Evan's preference

My four month old younger son has shown that somethings don't need to be taught. He's always been the more easy going one and this has helped us when we've had to soothe his occasionally testy sister. Because he's often the one not crying, he gets relegated to whoever Baby J doesn't want near her. This means there have been times where the maid is carrying him while I'm off trying to soothe his big sister. It also occasionally means he gets put in the cot or bouncer chair to self- entertain. He's become wise to it and has learnt that everytime's he left to his own devices, Jordan's in someone's arms.

So he's developed this very pitiful puppy dog look where he'll look up into your eyes and first, silently plead to be picked up, falling which, bawling that could rival his sister on any given day. Worse if I were carring his sister and walk out of the room with her. I've been told that causes a lingering look at the door with a down turned mouth and tears to follow.

I think even at this young age, his preference is to be the only child. He's not content being the baby of the family. He revels with joy the nights he sleeps with us because it's just him and Mommy and Daddy don't have to worry about pay attention to anything else but him. Unfortunately for us, his joy translates into wanting to play or chat at 3 in the morning when both parents are begging him to allow them to sleep. Often, he''ll fuss and deny his sleepiness right to the split second where sleeps takes hold of him mid protest.

Hopefully, he'll outgrow this and see that there's really nothing to be insecure about. He will always be the baby of the family, unless we are insane enough to attempt to have another one and risk another set of twins! Anyway, our simplest and most fervent wish for the both of them apart from the usual good health and good heart ones is that they will grow up enjoying one another's company.

And that they will love one another and look out for one another fiercely, even if it means Evan is part of the posse that stands guard with Daddy on the porch waiting for Jordan to come back from her date. That would make a great deal more sense than constantly bickering, competing and comparing and arguing about who Mommy and Daddy love more because although the grandparents seem to show a preference, we don't.










Technorati Tags: babies, sibling rivalry

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Mirror mirror..

Everyone says that Baby J looks like Daddy's side of the family and Baby E has inherited the Ng looks. This highly inaccurate but fun programme proves otherwise.




Like I said, not all that accurate.

Temperament wise, it seems to be the other way around. Baby J's fiesty, intense, chatty and takes no shit from no one, much like her Mommy although her Mommy's excuse is you grow up with a thick hide and the ability to fight anyone when you have 2 older brothers! Baby E on the other hand has Daddy's ability to chill, his easy and lazy smile and pretty much everything goes. Although... when he gets pissed off, take shelter! Of course, at this point, the only things to get peeved about not getting a. enough sleep b. enough milk c. enough being carried time.

Technorati Tags: babies, family resemblance

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Liquid Gold

For the last four months, I've been squirreling away breast milk into the freezer for the proverbial rainy day. It all started with my decision during the twins' first month to feed them formula milk for the last feed of the night. Because I was going to skip that feed, I would express during the duration of the feed and store the milk.

It slowly became an addiction to express and see how much I could actually produce. Admittedly, there were times where I wished I no longer had to express. My day is broken up into 4-5 hour blocks and whatever I plan to do in a day is limited by whether it could be completed within this stipulated time frame. Even if I didn't have a kid sleeping with me at night, I still had to wake up to empty the breasts. So many times, I've wanted to give up, telling myself that 4 months is enough and I was too tired to do this but guilt (once again, rearing its ugly head) has always gotten the better of me.

Now, thanks to my doggedness, I have a freezer full of frozen milk and some spill over in the family freezer downstairs. I face the happy dilemma of trying to squeeze more milk into the freezer while trying to keep the freezer door open for as little time as possible. It's gotten to the point where I'm tempted to freeze milk in the work fridge. The milk in the freezer doesn't get cleared all that quickly if I'm at home because I'm there to provide fresh milk for the twins. At times, I insist on just using frozen milk just so that we can get rid of the earlier date packets.

All of this makes me feel like a hamster that's running very quickly but not getting anywhere because it's running on a wheel. I thaw milk to use to clear space to put more milk into the freezer and the cycle repeats. My sister-in-law had suggested sometime back that I could donate some of my milk to mothers with little or no milk. I wasn't really aware of such a thing occurring (especially in Singapore) until she told me so.

So I finally decided to put an ad up on the Singapore Motherhood forum that I occasionally go to. I did get some replies but some of the responses made it feel like it really wasn't worth my while especially since I was doing to help other mothers and more importantly their babies. On my part, I saw it as I was doing something good. But when you get descended upon by what seems like a pack of wolves, you begin to wonder if it's a good idea. I understood that these mommies wanted to know how old the milk was and it doesn't hurt to be careful but this was done with the subtlety of a bull. I got asked extremely rudely to provide a list of food I ate in general, I was asked about my hygenie practices, whether I had HIV (?!), how I stored the milk, whether I had slept around etc. Like I said, I get that they need to be cautious, I would be as well, but if I had HIV? Or if I slept around? Seriously? How do they think that they are not offending anyone? Through this experiment, I also discovered that Singaporeans have no sense of humour because my reply to one of the questions was " I don't drink, smoke or do drugs" and the reply was "Good, I'm glad, otherwise I won't want your milk".

Anyway, I think I will still give away some of the packets. Because the freezer is so full and I tried to shove more packets into it, I had a packet inevitably blow up on me. Well, not literally but the packet leaked into the ice tray and I had lost 160ml of milk that way. Of course, an insensitive person would just say that since I have so much, no sweat, no big loss. But such a person will get a swift and hard kick in the shins for saying that. I have an inherent fear though, that if I gave away some of the milk, I would be in a position where I would suddenly need milk but not have any. But then I think to myself, at the beginning, I had no idea if I would be able to produce enough for my twins and by God's grace, I did and here, I just have to trust that I will still produce enough even if I give away some.

It sure beats having it explode in the fridge or having to deal with suggestions of selling it for profit.

Technorati Tags: babies, breast milk, milk donation

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Weekends

I think both Packrat and I hate working right now. We see it as a necessary evil but we hate it. This is because, we miss our kids. Granted, both of us have agreed that we aren't the type of parents that are super hands on, the type that are not willing to allow anyone to do anything for the kids. We're realistic. We have two. If we practised that, we would probably kiss the marriage and our sanity bye bye.

Having said that, we do love spending time with our kids and I think we live for weekends now when we get to spend as much time as we want with them. Here's what we did this weekend.

First, we just hung out and chilled in bed till they got bored. So I decided it was time I had a photograph of myself carrying the both of them before they got too heavy, which will be soon.



Not the nicest photograph but I get a kick out of seeing Jordan's foot in my pocket.

Even though they are twins and shared a womb for 9 months and a week, they are like ships in the night. So we try and put them together and let them discover one another. And it is heartwarming when they cuddle up like that, even if they're not aware of what they're doing.



I often growl at Packrat for WoWing, especially now with the kids. And since he used to read to them in my belly, I suggested he continue the habit. His willing listener was Jordan who loves people talking to her. At the same time, she has a penchant for voices of lower timbre so she was a riveted audience while Packrat read.



Because it was a Saturday afternoon, what else to do but to pass out. I walked into the room and saw this.


The first thing that popped into my mind, "how deep a father's love!" Tiny baby taking up the whole of the king sized bed while Daddy is relegated to dozing on the chair for fear of waking her.

Usually we try to go to church but we haven't gone for a while because it's quite hard to mobilise the entire family unit in time for service. But I had decided yesterday, enough was enough. I wanted to go to church so when all were awake and ready to go, we all trouped off, only about 15 minutes late which is quite a feat! Going to church usually means hanging out in the creche and half listening to the sermon over the voices of screaming babies. But we get a great amount of peace going to church and the kids are generally well behaved. We suspect it's because it's cold like the Arctic and both babies have polar bear mentalities inherited from both parents. Better cold than hot I say. Plus going to church allows us to dress up the kids.



Evan, in denim and Jordan in a Dora the Explorer dress but I have no pictures of her because she was strapped onto me, asleep and her dress was hidden in the sling. Tomorrow's Monday and all I can say is Poo. At least the holidays are coming.

Technorati Tags: babies, family time

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Tummy time

Evan is the charmer of the two. His sister Jordan regards the world through serious and wise eyes. He, on the other hand sees the world through cheeky and playful eyes, grinning easily, giving us mirthful gurgles. In many ways, he behaves like the baby of the family, which he is, even if it's only by 2 minutes. He also cries pitifully, wanting us to pick him up whereas Jordan cries as if the world has wronged her and she's angry about it.

The other thing about Evan is that he's a surfer type of baby, laid back, easy, happy to just chill. So unlike his sister who can pretty much sit up, hold up her head up and flip over, he's very happy to let his head loll around. Although... when there's no one looking, he'll hold it up straight and high, craning to see what's around before flopping back down exhausted.



We don't let him get away with it if possible. So today, under Mommy's watchful eyes, he got unceremoniously plonked onto his front for "tummy time" which he absolutely hates and will complain at the top of his lungs.



The good thing is when he's indignant, he forgets to be all lolly as he flings his head around in displeasure. This is when I decide to record him. And a good thing too because at the end of it, he's so annoyed, he flips. Well, actually, he just rolls over but we take what we can get. . To hear his annoyance, turn up the sound.

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A bad mother

This post is slighlty self-flagellating so please excuse it.

For the first time last night, I wanted to throttle my daughter, or dump her back in her cot and let the maid deal with her screaming being, or barge into my in laws bedroom looking somewhat mad with wild hair and eyes and throw her onto their bed, bolt and slam the door behind me.

Why?

She wouldn't stop screaming. She woke at midnight whimpering. As usual, I came out to check on what was going on. Daisy asked if I wanted to feed her. I don't know why I hesitated. Maybe instinctively, I knew that would lead down a path of little rest. Maybe because I was supposed to take Evan last night. But anyway, my selfish side lost out to my mommy conscience that wouldn't allow me to turn my own child away and I took her. I tried to feed her direct first since her milk wasn't ready but as mentioned, she wasn't too keen. Perhaps that was what set her off but whatever it was, it went downhill from there. She screamed and cried, would stay calm only for short periods before embarking on another screaming bout. I felt increasingly ineffective and Packrat woke up grumpy and to an extremely snappish wife (sorry darling!) and it took an hour to get her calm enough to fall asleep. That was almost half 1. By the time I got to bed it was after 2 because whatever was happening, my boobs still needed to be expressed.

An hour and a half later, the same yowling ensues and it trebles very quickly into full blown screaming. I give her more milk but even while drinking it, she screams and is generally pissed off. Again and again, I shush her and entertain thoughts of dumping her back to the maid. And while I kiss her and rock her, I am not feeling all lovey dovey toward her. In fact, I'm downright frustrated and extremely annoyed at her and want to yell at her or worse yet, want to smack her to shut her up. Thankfully I don't because smacking her will only incense her more and even with a mind half lost, I know that's not a good idea. To all those stupid baby books that say these are the sessions where your bond with your child strengthens- "Go f#$% yourself", seriously. I have never felt so much like throwing her down on the bed or like yelling at her or like banging my own head against the wall.

When she finally did fall asleep and I had an hour or so to do the same before I get up to start the day, I had bad dreams of being a horrible wife and mother and being sternly chided by Packrat. This caused me to wake up in tears because the first thing I remember is how resentful I felt toward my daughter last night and the resonating thought that if her own mother felt this way about her, there was no one to protect her innocent being from the world out there and that was just unacceptable. So I try and pick her up this morning and nuzzle her but all the residual feelings from last night prevent my heart from soaring the way it does usually when I hold her tiny being to myself.

So what do I do? I try harder. I bring the both down to bid their father farewell but I'm irritated because he doesn't help me move the chair even though my hands are literally full with children. With no choice and not wanting to snap at my equally exhausted husband, I drag the heavy rosewood chair ( have I mentioned how much I hate rosewood???) with my foot. The resulting sound causes Jordan to jump and becomes reason for her to scream. Her brother, not to be outdone follows suit and I have two screaming bubs, in stereo. At this point, the straw has broken the camel's back and in my doppelworld, I've snapped, flung the children off me and declare I no longer want anything to do with them. In reality, I'm racked by guilt for entertaining these dark thoughts and have ceded the two kids over to the maids and have gone into hiding in my own room, determined not to appear until I get a grip on myself or until I've had a good cry and feel better about everything. It's that or 9am comes round and I have to go off to work, at which point I would have to leave my room and go say goodbye to my kids. I know I have to do at least that because anything less than that is just plain cruel and I'm in enough trouble with myself as is.

Technorati Tags: babies, sleep

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Tabula Rasa

Now that I'm back at work, I have even less time to think about blogging much less to actually blog. On occasion though, I am inspired to blog about something and have every intention to do it when I find the time to. The problem is that when I actually do sit down to blog, my mind is blank. Ironically, blank, like a newborn's memory.

I was warned when I was pregnant that one of the effects that the hormones would have on me was that it would screw with my mind and not in the way where I stare for hours at my hand, fascinated and convinced that it is moving. I didn't really believe that pregnancy and the subsequent child birth would short circuit my short term memory until I started to walk into rooms with the full intention of doing something and then realising that I didn't really know what I was there to do. It's a strange sensation for someone who usually has a memory that can rival an elephant.

So I figured, I better start blogging more regularly even if it's about the mundane rather than not at all and have absolutely no recollection about what I had been doing. This is especially important since the one of the purposes of this blog is so that the kids will have something to read and there won't be much to read if I sit around and wait to blog but blank out along the way.

Anyway, snippets from the past week that I can remember.

1. It is unnecessary to buy toys.

My children have made friends with tissue paper. Tissue paper stands as the cheapest and most effective distractor for them. Throw out the rattles and noisemakers, just have tissue that moves and it captivates them for minutes on end.

2. My daughter is a water baby.

She has come away from the screaming new born who hated her clothes taken off because it was often a precursor to getting herself wet. Now, the opposite is true. Put her in the tub and she'll kick her Michelin legs around. She's also slowly learning to splash around and has no qualms getting water on her face. At the same time, I'm not about to wipe every single droplet of water off her face. A friend's daughter hates water on her face with a passion and this originated from the fact that her caregivers would freak out and make a big fuss about the one tiny drop of water on the girl's face. Anyhow, Baby J enjoys her morning bath time so much that the minute you lift her onto the towel, high decibelled howls emanate from that little body and don't really come to a stop until her blessedly short memory allows her to forget that she was in the tub ten minutes ago.

3. Evan the Rocket.

Both twins have super legs and they show it by kicking me in the belly and in the boobs. They especially like doing it when I have full boobs ready to be expressed. Packrat said it was because we wished for ballet dancers and basketball players and they are just starting early. I'd agree with him but I'm too busy gingerly rubbing my C-section wound that didn't hurt right up till round about the time that the two babies decided to use my belly as a launch pad.

Now, not only do they use my belly as a launch pad, they use anything, the mattress, the changing table, their pillows...thankfully they haven't discovered using one another yet. This has caused us to watch them all the more closely, especially Evan who seems to have Bionic legs that will probably serve him well when he has to do Standing Broad Jumps. Anyhow, we got a taste of how dangerous his Super-Legs can be. 2 mornings ago, I'm up and outside making him formula (which takes about a minute compared to warming up breast milk which takes about 4). Anyway, I could hear him fussing but all of the sudden the fussing gave rise to a huge pitiful wail. I rush in to see him sobbing in Packrat's arms and Packrat soothing him. Apparently, lil' Super-Legs had pushed off so hard, he had rocketed himself off the mattress that he was sleeping on and onto the floor. Thankfully the mattress is a 6 inch mattress that was placed on the ground so he didn't really hurt himself except for giving himself and us a big big scare. It was a great way to get babied because we rocked him, kissed him, soothed him and took him to bed with us after that.

So, now Evan sleeps in the baby equivalent of a padded cell so that should he decide to launch himself into orbit again, he'd richochet off the sides back into the safe confines of his mattress.

4. Jordan and breastfeeding

Jordan has always been schizophrenic when it comes to her feeding habits. We went through a stressful period when she was 6 weeks old where she refused to take the breast and only wanted the bottle. This made me feel very useless as a mother. Then, after that, she decided the nipple was what she wanted. This meant she'd politely drink enough to fill her rumbling tummy and then look around for me or more importantly, my boobs. This went back and forth quite a bit and it was quite frustrating at times especially because I couldn't be anywhere in the vicinity of her because she'd sniff me out.

Now, she allows me to give her the bottle and now, the breastfeeding I do is more for my benefit that for her. The problem is at this point, she has decided the bottle is better. She'll still take the boob but the minute the "let down" occurs and she chokes and sputters, she decides it's not worth milk coming out of her nose (and it has before!). She'll still take the nipple because I think it's familiar and a source of comfort, but she'll alternate between suckling and unlatching causing milk to be all over the place- on her face, in her hair, on my clothes, on my bed, everywhere but in her belly.

I might still stick with it and try but I think I need to accept the fact that she's slowly showing her preference. I know the Breastfeeding Nazi would say it's my fault since I introduced the bottle to her 4 months ago but I don't care. The bottle saved my sanity then and has continued to help me preserve it now. I just have to find other ways to hang out with her. Thankfully, she's getting easier and extremely fun to chat with so there're other ways to spend time with her.

5. Flip and turn

We expected the two to flip and turn soon. We expected Jordan to do it before Evan because she's more tenacious and dogged in her efforts. Evan's pretty much "oh, if I discover it, great! If I don't, there's always tomorrow to try". And if we were betting people, we'd have won because Jordan did indeed turn over on her own. You put her on her front and walk out to get her pacifier only to come back to her resembling a little beached whale with her belly up. I have not seen her in the midst of flipping but I'm always there to see the result. Evan succeeded his attempt to turn over two days ago. It saw him flipping over, right onto the grills of the cot and resulted in having his head wedged in a corner and him fussing and still trying tunnel forward. It was akin to watching a car stuck in mud trying to rev itself out of it.

Hilarious.

6. The need for speed

My friend Debbie while doing some spring cleaning sometime back unearthed a running pram. She said it was between throwing it away and giving it to someone who might use it. She thought of me because in my previous life, I used to run. Anyway, I gladly took it. In the last few weeks, we've begun using it. I would take the twins, one at a time on long walks, sometimes hour long ones, just to get out of the house. I was surprised that they took so well to the pram because they don't really like their twin one all that much. Packrat's theory is this pram, made for running has better suspension, makes for a better ride and is faster. Evan loves it, he falls asleep within minutes. As for Jordan, it depends on her mood, but she too is generally quite chill about hanging in the ride.

7. Jordan the Ostrich

The twins have favourite ways of falling asleep. It usually requires us to be carrying them. Evan rubs his face vigouroulsy into your chest before settling down to sleep. Jordan squirms and whimpers until she finds the just right position which is often face down with her head wedged between my body and the crook of my arm. So from the top, she looks like an ostrich who has stuck her head into a hole. My mother claims that, like the ostrich, her mentality is that if she doesn't see the world out there, no one can see her and she can go to sleep. Some nights ago, being very tired and somewhat whiny myself, I caught myself doing the same thing, burrowing into my pillows till my world was dark, soft and consisted of nothing else but me. Only then did I fall asleep. So it is true, she takes after me, in disposition as well as in sleep behaviour. How funny.

The last few need pictures and I will add in the photos when I have time. For now, I have suitably cleared my mind. In a way, this post has acted as my pensieve and these memories have been retained for the twins and for me to use against them when they bring home their dates.


Technorati Tags: babies, post-natal amnesia

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Ships in the dark

Everyone who has heard that we have twins comments that it'd be so cute too watch them play together. Now, in order for them to play together, they must know that one another exists and that's the catch. At this point, they don't.

We can try to put them side by side but most of the time, Jordan would turn her back on Evan and either one or both would fuss because they know there's a mommy or daddy person around so "why the heck aren't I being carried and why am I still on the bed??"

On occasion, they catch one another's eye and eyeball one another with suspicion. Here, Evan's fussing and woke Jordan up, as all big sisters will do, she put him in his place by tweaking his ear. Thankfully, he was oblivious to the intent and just moved away to fuss some more.















The only time they seem to acknowledge one another is when I carry the two of them at the same time and for some reason, that seems to calm the both down and allows them to coexist peacefully. Perhaps it's the unit of us 3 that they are familiar with. The only problem with carrying both of them at the same time is they weigh a whole lot and I'm deathly afraid of dropping either of them. That would probably entitle me to a big "failed as mommy" sign stamped across my forehead.

Technorati Tags: babies, twins

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Guilt

While talking about feeling guilt in general, I commented that I had the ability to feel guilty about everything from global warming and the drowning of the polar bears to the fact that the my mother was upset because I forgot to give her an inconsequential phone message. The person I was talking to, coming from a different cultural background from me, asked "Why?". My flippant reply was that I was part Jewish. Relating this to another friend, this friend said that the Asian ability to feel guilt could rival the Jewish one and that's why we could feel guilty for the baby of the mommy ant that we had accidentally trampled on.

Anyway, this guilt has reared its ugly head again. This time, to do with my children. I have been increasingly feeling that there aren't enough hours in a day and I feel like I'm neglecting my children even if I'm at home for the most part. Why do I feel like that? Every 4-5 hours, I need to disappear for at least a good hour to bottle sustenance for the babies. And then, I'm either with one baby or the other. The problem is that they've grown big enough for it to be near impossible for me to be carrying both at the same time. So, I have to share my time in order to be fair to them. It becomes a vicious merry go round.

If I am on Evan duty at night, then first thing in the morning, I'd want to hang out with Jordan and that goes on for most of the day and then I feel bad that Jordan's being talked to and carried whilst Evan's left to his own devices on the play gym. And it continues. On top of that Jordan's fussier and more sensitive so in order to calm her down, she's perpetually in someone's arms while Evan has developed this puppy dog look where he looks up at whoever from his bouncy chair with a quasi hurt and puzzled expression that says ' WHY aren't you carrying me?'

It got worse yesterday because I went back to work. I was warned, no matter how often I've ducked out over the last 3 1/2 months, going back to work is different. Sure enough, I felt miserable. To make it worse, Jordan was particularly chatty in the morning and everytime, I looked at Evan, he would give me a big grin, as if to remind me ' this is what you're going to be missing today!' Sigh, 16 weeks old and pros at the emotional blackmail.

To top off what had already started off as a bad day by sheer fact that it marked the end of my leave, was work itself. Looking for a private place to express was damn near impossible. And this is a work place with rooms galore. It led me to mutter about the hypocrisy of the Singapore government, a fact well known, but hammered home loud and clear. If indeed the government wanted us working women to have more children, making workplaces mommy and child friendly had to come after maternity and baby benefits. Having us search for a make shift nursing room is just down right annoying and I categorically refused to use the bathroom. Eventually, I found an empty room that could be locked from the inside and I spent that hour expressing alternating between muttering at the inconsiderate nature of the systen and worrying that someone would bang on the door and possibly get the janitorial staff to break down the door lest there were kids getting hot amd heavy making out. I knew that if that were to happen, I wouldn't be the one embarrassed. I discovered that breastfeeding mommies have very thick hides. I think it comes from realising that your breasts are food items and property of your child's. Anyway, my point is, if someone barged in; it wouldn't be me being embarrassed although I'd be pretty pissed off. The barger-in would see my exposed mammaries, be extremely embarrassed and possibly try to hide the embarrassment by telling me off and making it my fault that I was there to begin with. I would be told off for not finding a more secluded place to do my 'mother' business. I think it would tick them off more than if they found a student couple making out because, then you could hide the embarrassment by yelling at them and threatening explusion.

So, somehow or other, my not being able to find anywhere to express in peace and private would be my fault and although it didn't happen, it could well have and it will be something that I will have to worry about for the next two weeks. A friend suggested that if such a scenario did occur, I could let loose and rant about how lousy staff welfare was and make sure all the higher ups heard about it and I could also threaten resignation on the grounds of not getting enough support for having a family and how that was against the grain of government policy.

I guess I could. And fantasising about that would distract me from missing my two babies temporarily. But for now, now that I'm home and not expressing and not having to angst about work, I shall go sniff the tops of my children's heads.

Technorati Tags: babies, breastfeeding, back to work

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No time

I desperately need to find time to sit down and blog properly but until I do, I feel like I'm shortchanging my twins if I don't record something for prosterity, so here are some snapshots, photo-journal manner, of them in the past weeks...

Evan, looking completely maniacal. He responds to the sound of the camera clicking away with his somewhat rubber and cheeky face...



...him and Mr Bee, toy that crinkles, rattles and bounces...but he doesn't do any of those things with Mr Bee. He just wants to eat it. Rawr.



...now to teach him to share.

Jordan, allowing herself to be captured in the most undignified of poses... about to sneeze...and then the sneeze. This Princess is unlikely to forgive mommy for catching her in such a pose.

,

And thankfully now, they sleep for longer times, at the same time...



and when all is quiet on the western front like now, it's time for me too, to get some shut eye. When baby sleeps, mommy sleeps too.

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