Seeing red

My posts have all along been of the happy schmapy, la-di-da kind.


Well, this post aint gonna be so.


Have you ever been so angry that a red mist literally clouds your vision?

Your hands are shaking, your skin is burning and you just feel like screaming, throwing something, beating the daylights out of somebody? (not necesssarily in that particular order but maybe simultaneously)


Maybe its the culmination of too many "I dont like you, Mummy!" s from Terelle.
She rejects my good intentions and frequently peppers her sentences with declarations of not loving me anymore.
She shoots dagger stares at me when i get her to do things she doesnt like and is frequently rude and defiant.


Or maybe it's Thane's constant screamy demands, incessant whining which can last the entire duration of a car ride from home to destination and ridiculous fights with his sister that's doing my head in.


Or perhaps its hubby losing his temper one too many times, or him making snide remarks on trival matters or... i just dont know.

But i simply feel as though im losing it.


My tolerance level is almost zero and i feel myself losing control.

I can no longer sit there deflecting anger from everyone with patience and humor.
I cannot find a single ounce of energy left to do so.


A good friend who is also a stay-at-home-mum recently told me she got so angry with her son, she beat him with a hanger till it broke. It left marks all over his body and she felt so guilty over it she cried herself to sleep.
He's fine now, with nary a memory of why he got beaten in the first place, but my friend is appalled at the seemingly monstrous mum that she has become.

I am not capable of such release of my frustrations, and maybe that's why im going crazy inside. Maybe i should simply scream at them all, throw something around and basically let fly vitriol. Perhaps that will scare them a little and make them shape up.

I revolve my entire schedule around them, trying to make their lives as enriching as possible, scheduling my work only when it doesnt incovenience them.
And this is the thanks i get.

Admittedly, I have long accepted this job to be thankless and i do not harbor any lofty desires to be thanked for it.
Oh its supposed to be a selfless job you say?
But why do i feel no personal gratification from it?

Maybe im taking it all too personally. Im supposed to be raising happy, well mannered and adorable kids and not surly, ungrateful brats. They are my responsibility and however bad they turn out is all my fault cos I AM the one at home supposedly GROOMING them.

And so tonight, i have stormed out of the house for some peace and solitude because i just cant stand the pouting, whining and finger pointing one second longer.

I need help, God.
Help me find my composure once again.

A Prayer

While most of us are reveling in the festive spirit and worrying over inconsequential things like whether the home looks impressive enough for guests, like how to churn out the dishes for reunion dinner or even what to wear to make a fashion statement while visiting; i want to stop my very own trivial quibbling for a moment and say a prayer for someone.

Many of us know Charmaine, the feisty girl battling neuroblastoma. The girl and her long suffering mother whose story touched us all.

I do not particularly enjoy reading the blog chronicling her battle with her cancer, because it makes me so utterly sad and i cant stop thinking about her for the next couple of days.

However, i was reading someone else' blog today and that person wrote an update about her. Feeling curious and hopeful that perhaps there might be a chance of a happy ending for her, i started to read about her latest developments.

And the prognosis doesnt sound optimistic, the cancer's back.
I come away with feelings of misery, despair, unfairness, indignance and overall hopelessness again.
The pain i feel for this little girl is so real that she might have been a close friend or relative's daughter.

As Charmaine's mum puts it, all she really wants is to lead a normal life.
All she wants is to "go to work like everyone else, fret about the stressful life in Singapore, stress over my kids' education and complain that money is never enough."
Issues that all of us go on and on about every single day, moaning about our lives like its the end of the world.

I want to hang my head with shame for whenever my own kids are sick, i whinge and whine and think that im suffering just because i dont get a couple of nights' proper sleep. And here is this brave mummy who stays by her daughter's side day after day, night after night taking each setback and triumph with strength and grace.

I dont know if ill have her strength if i was in her situation. Looking at my kids playing together happily without a care in this world brings a lump to my throat and tears to my eyes.
They have been given this simple gift of health and it has suddenly become so precious to me because here is this little girl, denied the same gift and the experience of the pure, unadulterated joy of enjoying the world through innocent and pain free eyes.

Tonight, i thank you dear Lord, for my children's health and vow that i will not sweat the small stuff anymore.

Whenever im going to yell at Terelle for not learning to read properly, ill think of the fact that all Charmaine wants is to go to school.

When i find myself losing my temper when they dont behave, ill think of how much Cynthia wants Charmaine to simply be cheeky and have the energy to goof around.

And whenever i get upset with my kids not eating properly/watching too much tv/being tardy at bedtime/making a mess/fighting and basically just being kids, ill remember that all Cynthia wants is for Charmaine to be able to do all of that.

And i hope i will be able to find it in me to stop for a minute, calm down and just hug them both a little tighter and thank you again Lord, for giving them to me as they are, above everything else.

And so, i say a prayer for this little family tonight, that perhaps, just perhaps, the night is really the darkest just before dawn.

Dear Heavenly Father, i would truly give up all my creature comforts, just so that this little girl can have a decent shot at life, a life of health and happiness that all of us take for granted.

Please hear my prayer tonight, Lord.

Amen.

So long, and thanks for all the fish

It is 10pm and Thane is comfortably cocooned in my arms, blissfully suckling to sleep.

Little does he know that it will be the last time he gets to suckle and that a thousand and one feelings are swirling through me right now.

Tomorrow hubby and i leave for Bangkok for a 4 day getaway and we are going to use this chance to wean him.

I am sad.
We've been through so much, my babe and me. From the early days of mastitis, to finally achieving a constant supply, to his abrupt and emotionally wrenching milk strike, to him becoming kinda addicted to the breast...this last breastfeeding session just seems so sudden and so final.

As i watch his little angelic face slowly soften as he starts to doze off, my heart breaks and my resolve is weakened. I am so tempted to call off my trip tomorrow, just so that i can continue nursing my little one.

If i had my way, ill probably let him self wean slowly. But so many factors are pushing me towards this harsher decision of weaning him myself, now.

I think of the sleepless nights. Ive not had unbroken sleep for the past 2 years cos he still wakes up to 4 times a nite to nurse!! For FUN!! He's not really suckling!!

The screaming fits when i deny him the breast. The absolute worst case is when im driving and he's strapped in his car seat and howling incessantly for nen nen. He will wail and holler and scream and sob all the way home, and all the while im trying my darndest not to get into an accident amidst the racket he's making.

I think about his lack of appetite and disinterest in food cos he loves to suckle at all times of the day and he fills up before he gets a chance to have his proper meals. He eats like a mouse and i am afraid he is not getting enough nutrients, for breastmilk isnt supposed to be that nourishing to a 2 year old as it is to a 6 month old!

His reluctance to drink from the bottle cos the breast is always so much more comforting. And so i am chained to him, for i always have to be present to comfort him whenever he's upset and also to put him down to sleep. I remember him waiting for me way past his naptime, cos i was having tuition and couldnt nurse him. He ended up real cranky and screamed the whole house down cos he was extremely tired, but still he waited and waited till i was done.

I think about the embarassment when he tries to pull up my top in public as and when he fancies. The image of Emperor Pu Yi comes to mind and i am terrified if i dont wean him soon, he will continue to breastfeed all the way till he's 6!!
Horrors of horror!

And so i harden my heart and commit this image of his contented little sleeping face to memory before putting him down to sleep. I have to move on and close this chapter of my life.

That's it, its over...My milk producing days are done.

Ive breastfed Thane for 1 year 11months and 22 days, just 8 days shy of his 2nd birthday.
I deserve a huge pat on the back.

Oh and i forgot to mention, bye bye cleavage, hello runway again...sigh...

Mourning Jack

It was the day when torrential rains poured over our little island. And there was widespread flooding, the most well known one being in the Bukit Timah area.

I was in Bedok, far far away from Bukit Timah. I was supposed to be safe.

And yet...
Let's just say i was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I had just finished my workout at Tampines and was going to pick Terelle up from school. One of her classmate's mum called to say that her car couldnt start and asked if i could pick her gal up as well.
Sure, not a problem, i cheerfully answered, as i slowly negotiated the car through the blinding rain towards the school.

I picked the girls up, dropped Terelle's friend back home and headed off towards our own home.

Almost every car had their hazard lights on and everyone was going at a snail's pace. I had never seen such heavy rainfall before, much less drive through one, so i was exceptionally careful.

I saw some flooding ahead of me and estimated that the water would come up to about half tyre. But smaller cars than mine were cruising easily through the pool of water so i figured it was alright.

Never in my wildest dreams did i expect to stall right smack in the middle of the flashflood!

You always see other drivers standing forlornly by the side of the road, beside their vehicle that had just broken down, and u go "tsk tsk so cham!"
But you never ever expect it to happen to you.
When it does you are just flabbergasted and lost.

The next few minutes were pretty surreal.

I tried to restart the car but it sputtered and died, with all its indicator lights flashing.
Other motorists started to horn at us from the back.
Terelle jumped up and down excitedly, asking me loads of questions and yelling at me to "Quickly start the car and MOVE, mummy! We are blocking the road!"

At that moment my mind was a blank. I didnt know what to do but to call hubby, who was thousands of miles away in Beijing.
Sudden call at 3pm on a Thursday afternoon from wife, i wouldnt hazard a guess over the million and one bleak thoughts that could have flashed through his mind at that time.

After calling for the tow truck, i ushered Terelle out of the car and into the pouring rain cos i was afraid the cars behind wouldnt be able to see us and plough into us. I had to carry her through the flood, cos i didnt want her to get wet, and my shoes and pants were soaked through.

As we stood by the road side, huddled together under the umbrella, and waited for the tow truck (and the liews to come save terelle and bring her home 1st), i saw the floodwaters slowly receed.

10minutes later and the road was back to normal.

Sigh...if only i had stayed a little longer at the gym, if only i had driven a little slower, if only i had parked at Terelle's school and waited for the rain to abate, then i wouldnt have been caught in the flashflood.

See? Normal road conditions by the time the tow truck arrived

Poor Jack being towed after his watery death

I'd never thought ill feel so strongly over the car.

Poor poor Jack (Our family's affectionate name for the car) with his flashy rims, sporty exterior and customized racing stripe, is now lifeless with his lungs (engine) full of water in a dirty workshop. Jack who has accompanied us on many a happy family outing, who has drawn countless appreciative glances on the roads and who is a luxury to maneuver is dead, dead, dead.

And he is barely 2 years old!

As im writing this, im not even sure if we'll ever see Jack again, the initial prognosis from the mechanic is grim.

I feel like im mourning the loss of a dear friend. *sob*

Working too hard?

Ive been giving tuition for years but for the longest time this year, ive had no luck in getting assignments.
However, recently God has been good to me and all of a sudden im bombarded with so many referrals for tuition that i have to turn down many assignments.

Im very thankful for the work coming my way and the financial independence it proffers, not to mention the immense satisfaction from knowing that i actually count again.
I can earn my own keep!
Im no longer just a yellow-faced, thumb twiddling housewife whose entire world revolves around the 4 walls of her home!
The rusty cogs of my brain are turning once more!


It feels good to be able to buy stuff for the kids with my own money or to pay for their enrichment classes or workshops without having to consult hubby.

I can also treat myself to an indulgent snack if i fancy it. (it used to be "What? $3.90 for fried taiwanese chicken pieces? sigh...ill pass")

Hell, I can even buy little surprise gifts for hubby!
In the past a gift for him didnt feel like it was a real gift cos i was using his money to buy it!

But i wonder if im working too hard and spending too much time away from the kids.
After all i did quit my job to be a stay at home mum in order to spend time with the kids.

My typical day goes as follows:


Morning

Chauffeur the kids to enrichment classes/school. Thane attends classes at 9am so if Terelle is awake by the time we need to leave the house, I will get her changed and ready for school and take her along for a spot of breakfast as our helper accompanies Thane in class.
After he is done with class, i will send Terelle off to school.


(On a sidenote, I lament the fact that i seldom am able to accompany Thane in his classes because if Terelle is around, she always demands my attention and refuses to have breakfast with our helper and let me go to class with Thane.

Yes we do have a good time bonding over breakfast, as we read storybooks, do a couple of activity books and draw funny pictures together.

But i get this niggling sense of guilt that Thane seldom has mummy's undivided attention, unlike Jie Jie in the past, who had mummy all to herself.

Terelle went everywhere with me, literally. Even when i had to give tuition, i would bring her along and she would play with my student's siblings with nary a complaint.

Sigh the pitfalls of being the 2nd child...)



Midday

After Terelle is off at school, ill take Thane home, put him to sleep and rush to the gym for an hour's workout, ending just in time for me to go pick her up from school.
Sometimes if any of my students are home early from school, ill schedule tuition during this time so that i can be home for a longer stretch in the afternoon.



Afternoon
After showering Terelle and giving her a snack, ill put her down to nap, wolf down my lunch and rush out for tuition. Usually ill have at least 2 sessions a day and ill only return at evening time. This means that after their nap, Terelle would have spent about 2 hrs playing with our helper while Thane would have spent at least 4 hrs.



Evening
Ill have dinner with the kids and after playing with them for about an hour, its time to start the bedtime routines.


Im concerned because lately, Thane has been clinging to me like a limpet each time i return home. If im occupied and cannot tend to him immediately, he cries inconsolably and keeps saying "I want mummy!"


Terelle has also commented that she seldom sees me at home anymore. And sometimes whenever she is excited about something and wants me to share her excitement, she calls me "Aunty!" and then "Mummy!" *horrors*

Is my working 4 hours a day too much for my kids? Cant i have my cake and eat it too?

Sigh...


I still want my stay at home mum status to be a badge of honor and not become a subject of contention.
And so i shall cringe and turn away yet more lucarative assignments because after all, my kids are still my top priority.

If tomorrow never comes

Sometimes late at night

I lie awake and watch her sleeping

She's lost in peaceful dreams and i turn out the lights and lay there in the dark

And a thought crosses my mind

If i never wake in the morning

Would she ever doubt the way i feel about her in my heart



If tomorrow never comes

Would she know how much i love her

Did i try in every way to show her everyday

She's my only one

And if my time on earth were through

And she must face this world without me

Is the love i gave her in the past gonna be enough to last

If tomorrow never comes


My best friend made me watch a youtube video of a talented singer crooning this ballad today. This song never fails to leave me with a lump in my throat.

And even though you have made me so incensed yet again throughout the day, with your constant whining, refusal to obey instructions and general mischief, tonight i will hug you a little tighter, give you a few more kisses and vow to be more tolerant, patient and indulgent towards your antics tomorrow.

To my special firstborn, i hope you know that no matter what, Mummy loves you, more than you can ever imagine.

Toxicity

These feelings are usually easy to write it off but today not so much.

I just HAVE to write about what happened today cos im just sooooo pissed, and i need to get it off my chest.

Are you a happy, optimistic, positive person by nature but when you're around a certain individual, you feel depressed, pessimistic and negative?

Or maybe you're an idealistic person who sees the world through rose tinted glasses, but some people just make you feel silly and delusional?

Has someone consistenly thrashed all your well intentions, not spared a thought for your feelings and yet leave you feeling guilty that somehow you hadnt tried hard enough?

These people ooze toxicity.
These people have 'issues' that are toxic.
They are toxic to our happiness.
They are toxic to our mental health.
They are toxic to our self-esteem.
And they are toxic to our lives.
They can suck the life out of us and even shorten our lifespan.

I know this is happening to me because of a certain someone and yet i am powerless to defend myself.

My certain someone has an extreme sense of self-importance and believes that the world revolves around him/her.
(I shant be so overt about this. Lets just call the person X for ease of writing.)
Many a time the people around X want to shout "It isn't always about you!" , yet we always bite our tongues and get on with it to avoid conflict.

X is so utterly focused on his/her needs, our needs are totally ignored.
If you do not do just as X wishes, you are in for a big guilt trip, and are often left feeling upset, disappointed and unfulfilled.
And so to avoid feeling like crap, you abide by X's commands even when you have to expend so much energy on him/her, you have nothing left for yourself.

X is never encouraging, affirmative or upbeat.
When you say you've tried your best, he/she doubts your efforts and belittles any struggles you had to go through for him/her.
His/her negativity is infectious. It consumes you and you find yourself feeling melancholic and depressed just cos he/she is feeling that way.

I can never give enough to make X happy.
He/she takes me for granted, always has unrealistic expectations of me, finds ways to continually fault me and never takes responsibility for anything.
Everything is always someone else's fault and never his/hers.

All of us spend so much time and effort trying to please him/her .
Why do we even bother when none of our efforts are ever appreciated?
All of us are worn out, our own needs are always sacrificed and yet we keep making the same mistake and going back for more "torture".

This person is so self absorbed, he/she doesnt see that what he/she is doing is wrong.
Talking and explaining my actions to him/her falls on deaf ears, and sometimes i wonder if i am the crazy one.

Hubby is at his wits' end seeing me get all worked up by X all the time. He stresses that the more these people get away with their behavior, the more they will continue.
I know that but yet i cant bring myself to take a confrontation to cataclysmic levels because i am afraid of the consequences.

I know life is too short to be dealing with such toxicity all the time.
I must learn to turn a deaf ear and blind eye to this peson's rants and demands.
I must learn that ive tried my best and it is not my fault.
And i must learn to hide my chocolates properly.

One day in Your Life

Yes this is gonna be another eulogy and no prizes for guessing who is it about.

Just finished watching the encore telecast of Michael Jackson's Memorial. I must say that it evoked a myriad of emotions in me.


Happiness.

Im happy that he is finally free of all the people who constantly found fault with him, who sniggered at him as he underwent his dramatic facial reconstructions, who watched and waited for a chance to hurl abuse at him if and when he slipped up.

These same detractors pinned child molestation charges on him and gloated when he fell from grace in the pubic's eyes.

I chose to ignore those reports that he allegedly molested kids. In my eyes, MJ was a soft spoken and kind guy, a symbol of love and peace who loved children above everything else. When he settled those lawsuits out of court, i wanted to believe it was because he'd rather an amicable resolution than a lengthy public court case, and not an admission of his guit.

As MJ's brother so aptly put when he gave his eulogy,"Just how much pain can one take?"

The tabloids were splashed with all the sensational reports on how frail and sickly he looked and the immense pain he was in both physically and mentally just before he died.

Im glad that he is finally in a place where nothing and no one can hurt him anymore.
God must have been pained that he had to endure so much suffering in his life and so called him back home early.


Sadness.

I grew up listening to MJ's songs.

I vividly remember rewinding and playing the song "Ben" over and over again on my little cassette tape recorder, to try and figure out the chords so i could sing and play it on the guitar at the same time.

I remember valiantly trying to do the moonwalk with my cousins, but failing miserably yet having a good laugh in the process.

MJ is the ONLY pop star whom EVERYONE knows. Ask any coffeeshop uncle who MJ is and chances are, he might start singing in a falsetto, do the moonwalk and grab his crotch. But ask him again who is Justin Timberlake and he'll go "Har? Justin Si Siang?"

No other pop star will EVER be immortalised the way MJ has become.



Gratitude and Pride

When i watched the choir sing "We are the World" and "Heal the World", it dawned on me that these 2 songs have become anthems which the whole world sings. For the duration of the songs, just a couple of minutes, the whole world is truly united as everyone sings along to the all familiar lyrics.

You dont need a lyric sheet to sing these songs, unless you've been living under a rock the past 20 years. MJ's influence on you was just so strong that these lyrics have been ingrained in your mind. He has truly found a way to unite the world, if only for awhile, through his music, for only his music transcends all races and all religions.


And i am grateful to have been in this era when he was alive, where i had a chance to be touched by his music.

Hubby and I have been playing a couple of his earlier hits from youtube, for the kids to watch. We have been showing them Michael Jackson as we know him, in his earlier days, when he was untouched by garish makeup and plastic surgery, when he was untainted by scandals.
We want to expose them to the King of Pop, whom sadly they will not get a chance to know as intimately as us.


I could write so much more on MJ but so many tributes have already been written to him. So i shall be laconic for once.
In the words of his eerily prophetic song which is coincidently one of my favourites


"One day in your life

You'll remember the love you found here

You'll remember me somehow, though you dont need me now

I will stay in your heart

And when things fall apart

You'll remember one day"





Enjoy the King of Pop at his best.

What now, What next?

I am going through a phase in which im constantly questioning my role as a stay-at-home-mum. Day after day passes, some in meaningless drudgery, some with satisfying results.


I find myself dwelling too long and too often on whether it is all worthwhile.

What would i have become if i had chosen a different path with my life?

What could i have achieved?


A doctor? Perhaps.
I have the constitution of an ox; i fall sick only like once every 2 years, am good with kids and think i have much better bedside manner than alot of other doctors ive seen.
I would have been a great paediatrician, i know it.

A principal? Most of my ex colleagues in school have gone on with their careers and have achieved success climbing up the education hierarchy. I could have been among their circles right now, but would it be something i enjoy doing?

A journalist? A business woman? A hot shot in some big company?


Well, all these are just wishful thinking on my part right now. I cannot turn back time nor can i ever hope to become any of these for the rest of my life.

And all because i chose this path - to become a sahm.


Yet I realise that im starting to take my children's lives too personally.

When they get injured under my watch, i beat myself up to no end cos i was responsible for their pain.

They cant read while their peers can; i berate myself for not having read to them more often.

They utter something hurting; i wonder why and get very upset cos i dont understand why they hate me so when ive tried so hard for them.

My children's every failure has made me bombard myself with countless thoughts of "I should have done that instead".

I care too much about everything and when things dont go as i have planned or envisioned them to be, i get frustrated and upset.

I would imagine this being akin to going for a performance review at work and having your boss tell you that you suck in many areas. It can sometimes be depressing and debilitating.



True, the rewards come in other forms.

My daughter proudly telling her friends that store bought snacks are no match to my home baked cookies.

Her eyes wide with joy when i present a pair of hand painted shoes of her favourite little mermaid (which i spent an entire night working on), to her.

A paper bracelet painstakingly strung together by little fingers, which now sits proudly on my nightstand.

A picture of me messily colored in by the both of them, but which i treasure greatly cos it was their 1st joint effort at drawing my portrait.

A tower of blocks carefully constructed and proudly declared to be "Mummy's castle", and that ill get a real one when she grows up and builds a real one for me.

Everyday occurences and snippets of conversation about everything and anything, all etched vividly in my mind.


But the children are starting to become my life's entire purpose.

After all ive poured out blood, sweat and tears just for them and they are supposed to be living proof that im not wasting my time at home.


My son's precociousness, his milestones...my daughter's excellent memory, powers of observation and speech. I take pride in them and it is through them that i find self validation.

And that scares me.



For in just a few years time, when they are all packed off to school, what's going to happen to me then? How will i find alternative forms of self validation?

Mine is a 24/7 job that pays no salary, makes no cpf contributions, let alone hand out performance bonuses. Ive left the job market for so long now, i dont think i can ever go back and accept starting right from the bottom again.


And so right now, i have to look for some pittance of an alternative income - its my way to self validate and to safeguard my mind for when the kids are grown.

Im not the kind to sit around and do nothing for the rest of my days. But when the time comes and ive all the time in the world again, will my few tuition and writing assigments be sufficient to keep me occupied, and most importantly keep my mind challenged?

Im seriously afraid.

Appalling!!

Saw this kids' tee in Tampines 1 today. Check out the print!

It reads:

MAGIC MUSHROOM

Magic mushroom takes you to heaven

TO BE STUPEFIED ITS SO FUN

I am appalled. Promoting the use of drugs on the tee shirt of a 4 year old?

Shocking.

But yet its so absurd its funny.

Bento Binge

Went to Daiso a couple of days ago and chanced upon these adorable little containers that could be used to hold different kinds of food to be packed in a bento. They came in all sorts of shapes and sizes - penguins, hearts, butterflies, flowers...and had lovely pastel hues.

I gleefully bought a couple back home, thinking i could pack a little bento set for Terelle on the days she has to stay back in school for enrichment classes.

On the said day, out came the cute little silicon cups and in went a cheese sandwich (cut into 3 bite sized pieces to fit 3 little cups), some raisins, some colorful cornflakes and a marshmellow.

Terelle was bug eyed with anticipation when she saw what I had packed that day. She was profuse with her "i love you Mummy"s and "Thank you so much mummy"s and lavished me with hugs and kisses and kept declaring that I was the "best mummy in the whole world".

Here she is, not able to take her eyes off the bento box, all the way to the car

Thank you baby, for reminding me that it doesnt take alot to make you happy and that simple things can earn me the stripes of a pretty awesome mum in your eyes.

Blessed

When i look at these 3, i feel like ive been given the world

Beautifully Imperfect

While the furor over the latest MCYS commercial about the Indian lady giving an eulogy at her Chinese husband's funeral is still getting everyone all emotional, let me add my two cents worth to this interesting debate.

Yes it may be cliche and yes it probably was a rip off of the scene from Good Will Hunting, but it sure did leave me with a lump in my throat. (And did i detect a sniffle from the whereabouts of my man too?)

I guess it strikes a chord with couples who have been together for a long time, such that they know each other inside and out, and all their idiosyncrasies right down to a fault.

We know exactly what makes the other happy and what exactly gets the others' goat. And yet it isnt easy to always do the things that makes the other party happy.
Call it character differences, complacency, or simply Im-in-a-foul-mood-so-I-just-wanna-be-a-pain-in-your-a**, we get fuming mad with each other, have a cold war for half a day, yell, scream, cry, but ultimately forgive and forget.

That's what its all about right? People have written into the papers condemning the commercial, saying that it advocates settling for 2nd best in a life partner. I dont think they have grasped the essence of the clip. Nobody's perfect - so its really just up to you whether you want to celebrate the differences between you and your partner and work hard at your marriage or just take the coward's way out and not even try.

Hubby and I have known each other for 16 years and we have been together for 15 of them, so you can be sure we know each other like the back of our hands.

Ive seen pictures of him snogging other girls. He's seen my granny underpants. I know all about the oily, birds' nest, walking fashion disaster hairstyle he sported all those years ago. He knew how i looked like with my thick as a magnifying glass spectacles.

We thought we really knew each other. We thought we were safe. Yet many things have surfaced to surprise us once we were married. Let me list a few:


- He has an extremely short fuse. Yet i always find ways, both inadvertently and deliberately, to light it.


- He abhors ants in the house and takes it upon himself to eradicate every single one of them, to the extent of following their trails with a torch into the deepest, darkest and tiniest crack.

Me - I leave tiny food scraps on the counter, I bring food upstairs to eat in the room, I do a sloppy job cleaning up, I leave junk food packs unfastened properly.

He thinks I must have been an ant in my past life so Im encouraging their existence in our house now.

Its not that I dont care...its just...I dont know...Whats wrong with a few teeny weeny ants? They're harmless right?


- He is a neat freak, im fine with chaos. i can leave my clothes, books, knick knacks, accessories, in fact anything and everything in disarray and i think its alright. So....He usually picks up after me.


- When we got married, I suddenly became Wife: Finder of all Things. Whenever he cant locate a certain item, a string of frenetic "Where??"s escalating in volume and exasperation will come my way until i locate the blasted thing.
I hate it! How would I know where he put the measuring tape/screwdriver/cufflinks/ear digger/whatever! Im not psychic!

Even Terelle is following in her Daddy's footsteps, yelling a staccato succession of "Where"s whenever she cant find her toys.

My reply to both of them - "Use your eyes not your mouth!!"

- He falls asleep in seconds, so much so that I could still be running circles around the kids and he wouldnt (or couldnt) open half an eyelid, much less help.

Worse, sometimes i cant get to sleep and i so resent the serene, contented little snores emanating from his direction.

Yes we're both imperfect but we're still hanging on tight on this roller coaster ride called marriage. And that's what makes it fun right?

(Though i dont think he finds it very fun when he's up following an ant trail at 4am just cos i left the cornflake box half open yet again...haha)

New Look

In line with the revamp over at the kids' blog, I decided to give my blog a makeover too. And since I lurrrve all things retro, it was a cinch choosing the look and feel of my new space.

So there you are, my faithful readers, the all new "Motherhood is not for Wimps"! Enjoy!

My CV

Hubby was updating his CV recently and that got me thinking. If I were to have a CV, perhaps this is what it would look like.

Personal skills and qualities

- Efficient multitasker

(I can change a diaper while feeding another child, all the while keeping an eye on lunch on the stove, draw up a lesson plan for tuition and a grocery list and draft out a new writing assignment in my head)

- Excellent time management

(I can have lunch, feed the baby and pat him to sleep, rush off for tuition, buy a week's worth of groceries, go to the library to return and borrow books, then come home and edit an article all within the span of 3 hours)

- Exceptional driving skills

(Honed from ferrying the kids all over the island for school, outings, enrichment classes, having to negotiate the tightest spaces in ancient shopping centres and jostling for parking space with other frenzied mums. Hubby says i can drive like a man, and coming from him, that is the highest praise indeedm cos he is a fervent lady driver hater.)

- Inexhaustible energy

( On worst case scenario days, i can function with just 2 hours of sleep, when the baby wakes 5 times a night, and i have to keep sponging an older child who's running a temperature. No help cos hubby's away. Most days i function with 5 hours of broken sleep)

- Dogged determination

(See post on nursing strike)

- Effective communicator

(I can talk down a wailing preschooler with the most creative promises in record time. I can convince hubby that i didnt scratch the front bumper of the car while it was in my possession.)

- Brilliant team player

(I have to manage the expectations of the kids, their teachers, my parents, my hubby, the helper, the inlaws, my students, their parents...the list goes on)

- Outstanding PR skills

( I am friends with almost everyone in the neighborhood, from the toilet aunty in my daughter's school, so that she will look after her when she visits the toilet cos she doesnt really do a good job wiping up after doing her big business, to the old Ah Lian hairdresser at the salon - so she can give me a cut and color in record time at a rock bottom price, to the bak chor mee uncle who will give me an xtra helping of mushrooms.

- Ability to speak multiple languages

( I speak a smattering of Cantonese, Hokkein, Teochew and even smaller bits of Malay together with English, Mandarin and French. But it is enough to endear me to most people. Maybe they find me amusing...haha)

So any potential employers who would like to hire me? I can start immediately!

Transitions

What was originally meant as a 2 week stay at my in laws while the reno at our house was completed has dragged to become a month long stay, the reason being we added a couple more things to our list of to-dos for the new house and that has delayed the completion of the reno.

I am thankful for some aspects of our extended stay here:
- The kids have become so much closer to their grandparents. Previously Thane would turn away and cry whenever hubby's dad attempted to even touch him. Now he would rather Yeye carry him and take him out on a car ride than stay home with me.

- The after dinner playtime with their cousins. I think they will miss this most of all once we've moved out. Every night, dinner is hurriedly shovelled down in anticipation of dancing, singing, painting, playing make believe...u name it, they do it...up in the computer room on the 3rd floor. Thane doesnt do much of the above but he is content to watch his sister and older cousins at play and will always laugh or clap enthusiastically at their antics.

- The 24 hr free babysitting service that lets hubby and i have some precious couple time together, be it going to the nearby coffeeshop for supper or busying ourselves cleaning up at the new place, we are always reassured that the kids will be well taken care of at home.

- The super duper efficiency of the 2 maids in the house. Because they help each other out, our laundry is done within 24hrs, the toilet is always glistening, our room is always spick and span, the kids are always well fed and well entertained.

But i will definitely not miss:

- My mum in law's outrageous superstitious beliefs. I am particularly miffed by the fact that she thinks all women's clothes are "dirty" and have to be washed separately from the rest of the family's.

- The suffocating heat of the house. My mum in law keeps ALL the windows perpetually closed for fear of dust entering the house. Granted, the house is spotless, but the sticky, cloying HEAT is just unbearable.

- Terelle's obvious disregard of my authority cos she knows she has the constant backing of her grandparents, who will indulge in her every whim and fancy. Just this evening, after dinner (she had a HUGE bowl of rice), she saw her cousins stuffing their faces with cashew nuts and junk food and promptly declared that she was hungry. A soon as Yeye heard her pitiful mantra, he immediately gave her a bowlful of nuts, and Terelle simply ignored my fervent protests. Hungry?? Like real!! What a total con job that only grandparents will fall for!

- Hubby and I are constantly at each other's throats; i cannot pinpoint exactly why...perhaps its because of the lack of personal space here, perhaps its because of the heat, perhaps its because im constantly frustrated over the kids and am subconsciously taking it out on him.

So there you have it, as im writing this, we are still waiting for our new place to be completed. And for all the good there is from our stay here, I know that when we really move, I for one would be most happy and relieved.

Maternal instinct

I am not maternal, never have been.

B.C (before children), i was never the kind to go ooh and aah over babies. Even when an impossibly cute specimen was hanging over my shoulder in the train, all i could manage was a smile or a polite pat on its hand, even while i knew that the mum was dying for me to ask some personal questions about her offspring just so that she could ply me with its latest anecdotes. No thanks, i would rather be listening to my music and escaping into my book.

Whenever i had to entertain a kid for more than a couple of minutes, my lame antics and silly noises would always be met with impassive, stony faces that conveyed the message that i was the greatest joke on earth. And i would be seriously wishing my friend/relative i.e the grimy kids' mum would quickly return or that the ground would swallow me up to save me from further embarassment.

And crying kids? They either gave me a headache or rendered me useless, and as such i avoided them like the plague.

While i was pregnant, i never felt that i was radiating femininity. While my friends waxed lyrical about how wonderful it felt and how miraculous it was to have a little being move inside you, all i felt were the longest 18months (2 pregnancies) of my life and i disliked the ungainly bump in front of me and the constraints it put on my active lifestyle.

6 years of marriage and 2 kids later, i am still learning how to be a mother. There are days i do give myself a pat on the back and there are days i wish i could kick myself. But through it all, there is one thing that i feel i have finally done well in - and that is breastfeeding Thane.

We battled countless problems together in the early days; latching issues, mastitis (3times), bleeding nipples, engorgement and yet we managed to overcome all of them. He has been a happy nurser for the past 9 months only to stop abruptly 4 nites ago cos i flicked his cheek in response to him biting hard.
This is not the first time ive done so as he has been biting pretty often enough, but this was the first time he looked at me with such hurt and betrayal in his eyes as he stopped nursing immediately, arched his back and pushed himself vehemently away from me.

Nursing strike - 2 cold clinical words that describe a baby's abrupt refusal to nurse.

Each time Thane draws away from me screaming his lungs out, I feel bereft; as if i am mourning the leaving of a loved one, as if im mourning my hold on mothering my baby. Mothering through breastfeeding is the only thing i know i am doing completely right and that nobody could fault, and if i cant nurse i feel useless, helpless, miserable and worst of all defeated.

I never thought i would finally come face to face with my maternal instincts in this manner. Yet through this nursing strike - these 2 simple, self explaining words have since shaken my entire life and soul and has made me feel like its the end of the world.

I have been trawling the net for information on how to deal with nursing strikes and have been trying to find success stories of mothers who have coaxed their babies back to the breast after a strike.

But all I have found are very factual advices about how to cope with nursing strikes (how do u spend skin to skin time when your baby keeps pushing himself away from you and crying himself hoarse??) but very few success stories about mothers who have actually survived a nursing strike and come out triumphant on the other side.

There is especially, a lack of stories about mums who reacted strongly when her child bit her, had the child gone on strike and emerged better off for it.

And so i shall chronicle Thane's nursing strike, firstly to remember these emotional days and also to provide hope and comfort to any other mum who would be as unfortunate as me to encounter this in her breastfeeding journey.

Maternal instinct? Guess i do have a smidgeon of it after all. But i wish i didnt have to realise it through this episode...

Hope

Ive finally realised the reason for my daughter's terrible moods - she's not feeling well.

Terelle has been on long term medication for her lung problems and allergies ever since January and recently her paediatrician decided to stop the meds. Consequently all the allergies started flaring up again - itchy, watery eyes, a sneeze a minute, leaky nose, breathlessness and a hacking cough with any slight exertion; and it drives her up the wall. And because of that, she takes her frustrations out on me, and who can blame her?

Coincidently a good friend brought her daughter to see a sinseh recently for her flu and it cleared up very quickly. She was very impressed and suggested i try tcm. I am not particularly a great fan of tcm, having heard horror stories of fly by night sinsehs who sneak weatern drugs into their "potions" and who use herbs from unknown sources. Moreover, i was brought up taking western medicine and coupled with my training as a biochemist armed with a plethora of proven scientific knowledge, i was skeptical and wary.

However, i have also heard that reputable sinsehs are able to treat the root cause of your problem and that treatment with tcm, although lengthy, aims for holistic wellbeing; versus western medicine which is quick acting but treats only symptoms. What the heck, i was desperate to try anything that can improve my poor girl's quality of life and also regain my sanity, so we quickly made an appointment to see this guy.


I wasnt too impressed when we reached the medical hall. It was old with flaky yellowed walls, non air conditioned and smelled very strongly of "koyok" (medicated plasters) A sour faced "nurse" told us in curt tones, without even looking at us, to wait until our number was called before going into the consultation room. After a 30min wait, we were finally face to face with the famed doctor.

He was a serious middle aged man who promptly ordered hubby out of the room so he could concentrate on sensing terelle's aura (or whatever he needed to do). Perhaps she was awed by him too, as she was uncharacteristically quiet and compliant. I started blubbering in my rusty mandarin but he totally ignored my ramblings. He took one look at her and grimly declared that she had weak lungs in surprisingly fluent English. ( Now why did i assume that just because he was a sinseh who practiced traditional chinese medicine that i HAD to speak in mandarin and make a fool of myself??)

He started to examine her and after a minute of silence (by then i was too cowed by his intimidating presence to utter a squeak), he looked up and with a voice that dripped contempt, asked me a barrage of questions.

"Do you give her yakult and juice?"

"Yes"

"Biscuits, chocolates, fruits?"

(more meekly) "Yes"

"She eats very slowly, has no appetite, sleeps poorly and tosses and turns?"

"Yes"

"She had an episode of lung infection in recent months?"

"Yes in January"

"Then she had high fever with fits too?"

"Yes during a 2nd infection in February"
(He can tell so much by just reading her pulse??)

"She is in very bad health, you shouldnt have waited so long to see me"

"....." (My heart sinks to the bottom of my shoes)

"Her upbringing is so bad, all those yakult, fruits, western stuff...they claim is good but it does more harm to our system. We are asians so we have a completely different constitution, we cannot eat the same way as the ang mohs."

(Bad upbringing?? what bad upbringing??) I felt abit indignant at that point.

"Your daughter has a very strong personality, she has very obvious leadership qualities. I can tell from her face. And being unwell hinders her learning potential. She gets very frustrated and irritable often right?"
(What is he now, a fortune teller too??)

"Yes"

He shakes his head and makes some notes. At this point i stupidly venture to ask a question, cos he made it sound as though she was beyond hope.
" So can she be cured?"

He looked at me over his glasses, arched an eyebrow and said curtly
"I know what im doing"

*But..but...i didnt mean to say you dont know what ure doing...i just need some assurance...* *sniff sniff*

ok no more talking from me, i decided to speak only when spoken to.

"ok she cannot eat nuts, all fruits from A to Z, fruit juices, yakult, green tea, chicken, eggs, all fried things, oily stuff, oven baked like cakes, cereals, biscuits..."
(i start to space out...so many things? What can she eat?)

"Ah i know u wont be able to remember all these. You yourself suffer from insomnia and hence cannot focus well, have a bad back here" (points to the exact spot where my back is aching) "pain here" (points to a stiff spot on my neck that i cant seem to shake off) "have constipation and heartburn"

Ahhhhh...he can see all that from my face too?? But he's spot on in his diagnosis

"Just give her small portions of soft foods now; oats, porridge. Boil it with meat but dont let her eat the meat. Fish ok"

"Can she eat sushi? Its her favourite"

"No, the rice is too hard for her to digest"

Terelle had been quiet and paying attention to our conversation so far. I noticed her face registering increasing alarm after hearing the entire list of forbidden food. To hear that she couldnt have her beloved sushi; it was the straw that broke her back. She couldnt help but blurt out pleadingly

"Noodles can? Doctor please say can?"

That elicited a smile from the doctor who told her with a laugh that noodles are fine.

"See your girl is so smart, we must make her feel better then she can really shine"
I heave an inaudible sigh of relief...he's human after all.

And i chose this moment to ask another dumb question.
"So do i have to be treated too?"

Another arch of his eyebrow. "Ill treat your girl first, part of your inability to sleep is because of her. Because u worry too much about her"
Whoa spot on again. I felt like a recalcitrant schoolgirl in front of a strict principal.

And so, that kinda concluded our virgin sinseh visit. Terelle was given a vile smelling concoction together with some powder to drink and ordered to come back in 5 days.

Miraculously, she took the medicine with minimal fuss and true enough, showed visible signs of improvement after 5 days.

We are now both seeing this sinseh for long term maintenance and well being and i feel much more lighthearted seeing terelle in better spirits and most importantly better health. She only has occasional sneezes when she wakes in the morning and can run like the wind without succumbing to a hacking cough.

And surprisingly, good ol serious doc has started to lighten up. He now laughs and jokes with us, probably cos we have been listening to his advice and have shown considerable improvement. Even sour faced puss at the recept now smiles and makes small talk with us. Or maybe our scintillating personalities are now shining through cos we are both feeling better? Haha...lame...

But there you have it, i now have hope, in the form of a no nonsense chinese sinseh.

I am crap

Lately ive been feeling extremely tired, both emotionally and physically, from taking care of the 2 kids. Im out of play ideas, i snap for no rhyme or reason, everything and everyone irks me to no end and when i wake up in the morning sometimes i wish they would just disappear.
In short, im simply at the end of my tether. I feel like a terrible, useless mum.

I have friends who breeze through being a stay at home mum to 2 kids, without any help whatsoever. And they are still cheerful and patient and can find loads to do with their kids. They can play with them the whole day, take them out to the malls (ALONE!!) and never scream like a deranged banshee.

Me? Most days terelle watches tv till her eyes glaze over while i sit on the couch with the baby stuck on my breast, repeatedly yelling at her to switch it off. And yet when she finally does switch it off, i have no energy left to think of yet another inane game to entertain her with. And i do have a helper to do all the household chores and cook for us.
I feel like a terrible, useless mum.

I used to have tons of patience to spare, i could counsel and advise even the most obstinate and rebellious student. Now i find myself getting irritated by petty and inconsequential things.

Terelle whines for more cereals. I grudgingly fetch the bowl for her and wish she would shut up.

She asks to be piggy backed to the toilet to brush her teeth and whines when i deny her cos my tired, aching body just cant take piggy backing her 14kg frame for that short trip to the loo. I forcefully haul her to the sink and brush her teeth whilst she is crying pitifully, saying that ive hurt her arm. And i start to regret...why couldnt i have just piggy backed her and saved myself from this emotional outburst?

The baby is cranky and refuses to sleep, and screams to be rocked and nursed at the same time. I stubbornly sit on the sofa, vehemently stuff my breast into his mouth and yell at him to cooperate, while he gags and chokes because he is fighting me off and crying at the same time.
And while i am fighting my epic battle with the baby, Terelle comes running to me and askes me to play with her cos my helper simply has no idea how to entertain her. I ask her to wait till the baby's asleep and she glues herself to the goggle box again. I think venomous thoughts along the lines of "why is my maid so darn inept that she cant entertain a 3year old for a couple of minutes?" and take my anger out on Terelle by continuing to yell at her to switch the damn tv off.

The baby is finally asleep but by now Terelle has watched a whole hour and a half of mindless cartoons and my wrist is aching badly. I force myself to inject some cheer in my voice as i ask her nicely if she would like to do some painting/coloring/puzzles/play with her playdoh/toys/read a book. She says no to all the above and screams non stop when i switch the tv off. I take my rising resentment and anger out on her by yelling at her yet again and ignoring her completely as she sulks on the sofa.

After awhile she comes over and asks me in a pathetically plaintive voice "Mummy make happy face, Mummy dont be angry" and my heart breaks. God, she must be thinking what a monster Mummy is! I must be doing some serious damage to her emotional health!

I remind myself for the umpteenth time that she is only a kid and that i really shouldnt shout at her for nothing. We do some activity for a whole of 20min before she loses interest in it and wants to go back to watching tv. I yell at her to switch the blasted thing off again and she goes and sulks again. The cycle continues.
Am i really such a failure at entertaining my own kid? Am i so boring compared to the damn tv??

I feel like a terrible, useless mum.

If she goes to school, at least i get some respite but its still not time for myself. The baby needs a bath, has to be fed and bounced to sleep again and i need some lunch and visit the toilet. If im lucky, the maid plays with him and he is happy while i can do my business in peace. On bad days, i have to rush through my business and cant do it properly cos i can hear him wailing himself hoarse outside. I am that pathetic.
And oh i forgot...i realise i didnt even have time to wash my face that morning.

If she doesnt go to school, i have an even harder time. After having barked at her non stop for the past hour to chew and swallow (Terelle hates eating, by the way), i am frustrated and sweltering (stupid muggy weather) and my patience is at its limit. And there she goes and sneezes, hurling chunks of food that she has been keeping in her mouth for the past 15min all over the dining table, floor and my face.
I literally lose it. Rage consumes me as i scream at her so malevolently i scare myself. She bawls and i send her to the room as i sit on the sofa and weep. I think to myself, how much more of this can i take?? After i compose myself i go to the room and find her a whimpering wreck and i start berating myself again as i try my best to soothe away the tears and raw feelings.

I feel like a terrible, useless mum.

If she doesnt go to school, i have to think of ways to entertain my gal, her with the attention span of a gnat. Somedays i take her out, but trying to manage 2 kids outside, albeit with a maid's help, leaves me exhausted and i wish i had stayed home instead.
Yet being exhausted outside still beats staying at home with a bored 3 year old who can take just that much of painting/coloring/puzzles/playdoh/toys/books. But hey, there are just that many places to go in Singapore and the blistering heat doesnt help one bit. Or am i just not creative enough?

When they are awake, im counting the hours till they take their nap. When they are napping, i pray fervently that they dont wake so soon. If there were a drug that would make my kids sleep the whole day without any bad side effects, ill rush out to buy it. Now what kind of mother am i to wish that her kids be asleep the whole day??
They have to sleep their requisite 2 hours so i can take the time to just cool myself down. If either of them wakes prematurely i find myself taking my frustration and despair out on them again. Its so unfair to them i know, but i cant help it.

I feel like a terrible, useless mum.

By 6pm im usually in such a state of misery that i start sms-ing hubby to ask what time he's coming home. Ive just checked the sent box on my handphone and realise that 4 out of 5 weekdays i ask him the same question. My messages sound especially anguished when Terelle is up from her nap earlier than usual and is in a foul mood.
Hubby has never complained about having to receive these messages day after day but i am depressed by the state i am now reduced to. I just live for the time he comes home and when he does im usually an exhausted, sweaty, crabby mess and I hate it.

Am i too idealistic in trying to raise my kids?

Perhaps a couple of hours of tv a day wouldnt do too much harm?
But i have friends who can keep their kids away from the idiot box and yet still keep them entertained by activity books, flashcards and books and here i am falling so far short of that benchmark.

Perhaps letting the baby cry it out for awhile wouldnt hurt him at all?
But ive read that happy, secure babies are the ones that have their needs met all the time and are stronger and healthier as a result; and I worry about letting him cry till he's out of breath while i am struggling with managing Terelle's emotions.

Perhaps letting Terelle play in the playground is a better idea than keeping her at home?
But what about the epidemic levels of hfmd now??

Perhaps letting Terelle go to a childcare for the whole day will do both her and me some good? But what about exposure to all those germy kids? What will that do to her fragile, allergy prone body??

Perhaps leaving them alone with the maid is alright while i go have some me time?
But i cant, i just cant bear the thought of leaving them alone with a complete stranger, someone whose entire background was only presented to me on a sheet of paper.

I look on enviously at friends whose parents help them to no end with their kids. And i start getting even more resentful because i know that i will never be able to have that luxury.

Perhaps im really being too hard on myself.
Perhaps i really should let go a little.
Perhaps i should just stop comparing myself with other supermums.
Perhaps i should go back to work so that when i come back ill miss them so much ill be a happier mum. (But that is out of the question cos i have no parental help and i cant bear to send them to a childcare)
Or perhaps im just not cut out for this job.
I feel like a terrible, useless mum.

Things will only get better

How many times have i heard that phrase being repeated to me the past 2 months. i have heard it so often that ive started using it as a lifeline to keep me sane when the going gets tough. And boy has the going been really tough in the weeks following Thane's arrival.

Firstly, my breastfeeding woes revisited.

I never have luck with breastfeeding; having suffered almost every single problem in the book during Terelle's time - Difficulty latching. Check. Engorgement. Check. Sore nipples. Check. Cracked nipples. Check. MASTITIS (breast infection). Check check check.

In the end, i ended up expressing milk round the clock for Terelle and i actually managed to do this for an entire year. But it was a chore and i really found those pumping sessions a complete waste of time.

With Thane, i had no difficulty latching him on, (everyone says its a male instinct, haha) but i had all the rest of the problems again. He was such a proficient sucker that my nipples started to bleed even while i was still in the hospital. And then because they were bleeding, the nurse told me to feed from the other breast, which led to the affected breast getting engorged. What a vicious cycle! It is no wonder so many women refuse to suffer the pain of breastfeeding! It is indeed a torture.

As usual hubby couldnt stand the sight of me suffering so again he told me to give it up. No way! I did this before and im sure i can do this again. But i feel breastfeeding (or at least the early days) is really more torturous than labor itself.

And then things spiralled even further downhill.

During my confinement with Terelle, i fell sick with high fever and chills twice due to mastitis. Similarly, i was sick again during my confinement with Thane, with a racking cough that just wouldnt go away.

And worst of all, Terelle caught a nasty bug that landed her in hospital with a chest infection for 4 days. She literally could not stop coughing; it was so bad it interferred with her appetite and sleep. I had to express milk while in the hospital and rush home at night to deliver it to my confinement aunty who would help me feed the baby. Thank God she was still around to help!

To compound our problems, the baby caught the bug from his sister. It was heartbreaking to see a one month old baby coughing relentlessly and puking each time the phlegm got stuck in his throat. Luckily my little trooper could still chug down full feeds, so even if some milk came out with his phlegm, he did not miss much.

The nightmare really started when, less than a week after Terelle recovered, she was down again with a bad flu. This time she had a fever so high she suffered from febrile fits. I had never witnessed a fit in my life and when it is happening to your own child, it is simply horrifying. I have read about febrile fits before and know that they are not dangerous, but still to watch your child having one is just terrible.

Terelle was having a high fever that day but she was still able to eat some cheese and bread with hubby watching her so i went to express milk in the room where the baby was confined in (to prevent him from catching the germs again) Hubby suddenly rushed in saying that something was wrong with Terelle. I scrambled out to find her with her eyes rolled upwards and puking all over hubby's shoulder. Her face was ghastly pale and her limbs were jerking wildly. Frantic, we rushed her under the shower and i quickly inserted a suppository. Hubby was so afraid we were losing her that he was crying.
Everything was so surreal and i vaguely remembered giving our details to the paramedics in the ambulance and packing a bag for hubby to take along to the hospital. The image of Terelle having a fit was so traumatic for me that i had nightmares about it for quite a long while afterwards.


Thankfully she was alright and didnt have to be warded, but it was hell nursing her back to health. Both hubby and i caught her germs too and at the height of our illness, all 3 of us were just lying around wishing we were dead. It was terrible having to nurse a sick kid AND take care of a newborn while being sick yourself. We had to monitor her fever round the clock and feed her medicine at 4hour intervals. If her fever spiked again, we panicked cos we couldnt risk another fit and worried ourselves sick till it came down again. Every single racking cough sent us into a frenzy and her incessant whining and pleading with us to make her feel better just broke our hearts.

To make matters worse, it was during this time that i had mastitis on top of the flu. When you're having chills and your whole body is aching from a high fever, and you have an excruciating lump in your breast the entire day, you really wish you were dead.

Thanks to all my friends who kept encouraging me by plying me with anecdotes about their similar experiences. It was these messages that kept me sane through those 10 horrible days. They were the ones who told me that things will only get better and that i should have faith.

However till today, i still blame myself for not having managed her fever better initially. If i had brought her fever down quickly by sponging her more, perhaps she wouldnt have suffered the fit. Never again for the rest of my life, do i want to witness a repeat of that awful scene of watching any of my kids having a fit while i am helpless to do anything about it.

On hindsight, i thank god for small mercies like the baby remaining healthy despite all of us being so sick. Things could have been worse, if he caught the bug too and had to be admitted. Thank god for hubby too, who slept with Terelle the whole time and patiently took her temperature and administered her medication without a single complaint, while being very sick himself. Hubby was at home for such a long time and was such a great help to me that when he finally went back to the office, i felt bereft for some time and wondered how i would be able to cope alone.

Its been 2 months since and things have really gotten better. Terelle has been healthy so far, though her lungs have suffered from those 2 nasty infections. Her doctor tells me that she has to be on medication to help her suppress another flare up of that wheezing episode. The medication makes her drowsy and cranky sometimes but i can live with that, as long as she doesnt fall so sick again.

And as for Thane, just when i thought i would never have unbroken sleep for the rest of my life, he started sleeping through the night without me having to do anything about it. And yes, there is a price to pay; he hardly sleeps in the day and i have to constantly carry him or he'll scream himself hoarse, but he gives me peace from 8pm till 7am the next morning...and that is more than i can ask for.

And breastfeeding is a breeze right now. Apart from my little sumo sometimes insisting that i carry AND nurse him at the same time; feeding him is like second nature to me now, even though im suffering from a chronic back ache from his weight. And i am secretly proud that i am that 1% of mothers in Singapore who totally breastfeed beyond 6mths. Ive done it with Terelle and im sure i can do it again with Thane.

Terelle was acting up and kept demanding our attention in the early days immediately following Thane's birth but now she is taking to her role as the big sister marvelously. She absolutely adores her baby brother and is fiercely protective over him. She sings to him and pats him when he cant sleep, tells him stories and makes funny faces to make him laugh and showers him with incessant hugs and kisses. And when passers-by tease her saying that they want to take her baby home, she yells at them to back off and stands over him protectively.

Things could have been worse with her being jealous of her brother but she is not in the least perturbed when i have to deal with him the whole day. So despite her tantrums and demands and generally being a terrible 3 tot (that will deserve another post), every night i thank god for my tough girl and pray in my heart of hearts that my kids will grow up to be real close emotionally.

I am keeping my fingers crossed that things will continue on the uptrend. And to all mummies who find that you are struggling with whatever problems plauging your kids right now, take heart...things WILL only get better.