The way to a Mommy's conscience

I was writing to dear friend whom I have not seen in a long time this morning and I commented to him, regarding motherhood, that I had never known such an ability to feel guilty or insecure. It's easy to hit the right spot and send me into a big puddle of tears. And one would think that a fellow mother whose gone through the same insecurity and I'm guessing guilt would know better than be so heartless as to aim straight at that most vulnerable spot.

When I had commented that Evan had woken up in the middle of the night and wanted to play, the opinion put forward (not that I was asking for one) was " Of course he would. Since he knows his mommy is never around to play with in the day, the only time to do it is at night". That's grossly wrong, unfair and a damn mean thing to say especially when I break my neck trying to get home the minute I am able to leave work. So sue me if I need the money to buy inconsequential things like diapers and food.

Now, if looks could kill, or at least incinerate, there'd be a suspicious pile of ashes lying around right about now.

Technorati Tags: babies, a mother's guilt

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Shameless plugging

So apparently, the twins have won me a spot on the Top Momma website. I don't know how I got there, but it's kinda cool and so click away.



I do however wish they'd use a cuter photo though but that's just me being self-indulgent. :)

But I guess it's not as bad as enterring the babies into baby contests although it has been suggested.

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Got toes?

My daughter, in her element. Trying to get both feet into her mouth.

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Splash

The fun thing about having kids I guess is that there' re a lot of firsts to look forward to. When they first smile (6 weeks) , roll over (9 weeks) right to when their first teeth come out (last week) and then some.

Today was another first. We took them swimming or rather, we took them splashing. Once again, I'm amazed that two beings who shared a womb for 9 months and are created out of genetic material that is Packrat and I can be as different as day and night. Jordan was quite pleased to be in the water, she kicked and writhed round, waving her arms and gasping excitedly when I splashed water onto her head. I love the cheeky expression she has on her face as she watches her older cousins cavort in the water.

There are no pictures of Evan for one simple reason. The poor boy absolutely hated the water. When I lowered his feet into the water, he screamed and clung onto me for dear life. I thought maybe it was the initial shock of the water being cold so I waited for a bit, let him watch his sister splash around before trying again. Some reaction, flicking his wrists in frustration and anger like "Why Mommy??? I told you!!! I don't like this!!!" So I gave in and figured I'd try on a warmer day. So, I sat there, watching Packrat and Baby J splash around while he nuzzled and burrowed as deep into me as possible. And when it was time to take Baby J out of the pool, that was when she screamed blue murder.

I suspect it has to do with new experiences that he doesn't like. The same set of reactions was seen later when I showered them. Because we were at my brother's place and he had no need for a baby tub, I only had the shower to use on them. Once again, Baby J was puzzled by the new experience but was game to get her hair wet, water raining down on her and tiny jets of water plummeting down on her. Evan however, clung and clawed, cried when I turned the shower on, slithered and struggled when I tried to stand him up to soap him. He went to bed last night with unshampooed hair because he wouldn't let me get close to his head and all I had time to do before he went ballistic was to rinse off the soap I had already lathered onto him.

Thankfully, he calmed down after that.

What I remember most vividly about swimming was that I was always very pooped after that. As were my children. I think it was helped by my bro's uber luxurious Ritz Carlton quality mattress. They fell asleep very quickly and were sound asleep before I even left the room. When I came back in to get them before we left, they had really made themselves at home on the bed. So please Uncle Mark, can we sleep in your bed more often?












Anyway, lessons from yesterday my son is very timid and fearful of new things. My daughter is gung ho and has no fear in trying new things. I guess, in her mind, if she didn't like it, she could always get angry. My poor boy. Now, I need to figure out how to make a braver little boy out of him.

But till then, we can keep trying at Uncle Mark's on the weekend and they can fall asleep in his big bed, which makes me think of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, by the way.

Technorati Tags: babies, swimming

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The Couple from Bimboland

A friend rang me and asked if Packrat had given me a push present to reward me for birthing the twins. My initial reaction was horror at such an archaic idea and then indignation at the thought of having to be rewarded for going through child birth. It made me sound like an unwilling birth machine who had been forced by cruel in laws to produce a son and the benevolent husband thought it generous to reward such an effort and sacrifice on my part.

On top of that, we weren't the type of people that gave or received huge bling as presents. So I told the friend, apologies but all I got was a diaper bag albeit expensive but a diaper bag nonetheless. Strangely enough, The Straits Times's Urban section still thought it a worth while story and asked if they could interview us.

I agreed to do the story only if Packrat and I could tell the story our way emphasising what was important and playing down the present bit. Both of us felt very strongly about how sometimes, it goes unnoticed that Mommies after delivering feel kinda crappy. It's to do with the hormones which go into a tailspin, the expectations of childbirth and what actually happened, the great sense of being overwhelmed and not knowing what the heck to do with the squealing and helpless babe who is a stranger to everyone.

We wanted to talk about how it wasn't the gift that was given to me but that Packrat thought about me and went out and did something for me when I was feeling blue and overwhelmed. That bringing the babies home was a scary thing and a husband's support was important.

The problem was that it was going to be featured in Urban- so instead of it sounding sensitive it came across making us sound like the ditzs from Bimboland. That all it took to get me out of feeling blue was an expensive bag. That my husband buys my affection by buying me gifts and that's how our relationship survives...on gifts! That even though baby-rearing was hard, all it took to make it better was an expensive diaper bag. Unless it was a diaper bag of magical proportions, I don't think that was possible. It might have been an expensive bag but it was still just a bag.

And I think, we're going to get so much flak from our parents who were from the generation where being extravagant is frowned upon. That so much money was wasted, that the hospital diaper bag (which is butt ugly) could have worked as well and my children's diapers did not need to be housed in an expensive bag.

That's why I hate being interviewed by the press. They already have a story in mind and scrunge up your words to fit it into that story even if it's far from the truth. Well, at least I got a nice photograph out of it.



Here's the article for those overseas and had enough sense not to pay money for a ST online subscription.

----
Being a first-time Mum to two babies sure ain't child's play. But for Ondine, 31, the challenge of tending to fraternal twins Jordan Alyssa and Evan Joshua is now easier to bear, thanks to the gift of a $600 Kate Spade diaper bag.

Husband Packrat, 31, surprised her with the Mummy present during her confinement period.

Explaining why she was so thrilled by the gift, the junior college teacher says: 'It's easy for a new mother to feel down because her hormones are out of whack and she is emotionally overwhelmed by the baby.

'It doesn't help that all the weight gained during pregnancy makes one feel unattractive. Plus, everyone's attention is focused on the child and the mother is often neglected.

'So when my husband came home with a present just for me, it really made me feel special.'

For Packrat, also a junior college teacher, the gift was about affirming his love for his wife.

'I wanted to let her know that things between us as a couple haven't changed even though we're now parents. She'll always be to me a wife first, and a mother to my children second.'

On the choice of the gift, he said his wife had mentioned in passing that she liked Kate Spade bags.

He had originally wanted to get her a Kate Spade handbag, 'something that isn't obviously a mother's gift' and that she could enjoy independently of the kids.

But the designs of the regular bags did not appeal to him. So he ended up picking a cheery- coloured diaper bag that comes with a detachable changing mat.

Ondine uses the bag whenever the couple take the six-month-old twins out.

Packrat's demonstration of affection towards his wife does not end with the diaper bag.

The couple make it a point to spend quality time together without the children, going out at least once a week when the twins are asleep at their grandparents' home to catch a movie or grab supper.

Ondine says: 'Our children are important to us, but we believe that for the family to be close, the marriage has first got to be strong. Recognising our relationship as a couple, through gifts and time spent together, is part of it.'

---
Technorati Tags: babies, Kate Spade, Straits Times

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Heartbreak kid

At 6 months, Evan can now sit up unassisted. And he seems quite pleased with the feat. He can also pretty much assume crawl position and on occasion, accidentally crawl forward. I say accidentally because he doesn't intend to and he doesn't seem to know that he's propelling himself forward. Things are going very fast now, his tooth is budding, he's pulling himself up into standing position and he's learning about his surroundings. He also knows how to seem puzzled that things disappear when he drops them on the ground and will look around on the floor for them. So, I'm pretty proud of the little tyke. :)





And I'm also proud of the fact that he's such a happy baby despite the fact that his face looks pretty awful. If it were me, I'd lock myself at home and drown in self pity but he seems to take in stride the fact that he's got a severe rash on the lower half of his face. The diagnosis from the different doctors we've seen range from the common milk rash, to thrush to ringworm! Whatever it is, it isn't pretty. In fact it looks very red and angry. And it seems to be getting worse, despite our best efforts to keep it dry and saliva free which is no mean feat since he's got enough drool to fill an ocean. I guess I can be thankful that it isn't an allergic reaction especially since I unwisely fed him half a strawberry last week!

So all I can do is hope and pray it gets better and as all mommies do, they feel so sorry that their baby has to go through anything uncomfortable. And for me, who scores super high on an empathy scale, I just had to take it one step further. Every time I looked at him this morning, my own face felt itchy and I actually thought I had a rash as well.

Sigh, what I'd give for his face to clear. Well, at least, he's a happy boy and he can still find things to laugh about. I guess being six months old helps. Anything and everything is funny, even Mommy nuzzling into his armpit. :)



Technorati Tags: babies, skin conditions

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Sparing the rod

Occasionally, Packrat and I have encountered children, not our own, that exhibit such infuriating behaviour that it makes us feel like slapping them. Often the thing stopping us is that we'd either have a lawsuit on our hands, for laying a hand on someone's precious child but more importantly, it really is none of our business although it doesn't stop us from taking the moral ground and dreaming up all the ways we'd do it differently when we had kids. That was before we had kids...

Now that we have kids, we still dream of being strict. Of not letting them get away with blue murder. Thing is we also now have real personalities to contend with. Take Evan for instance. The boy's got a classic baby of the family disposition. He's needy, always likes to be carried, needs the security of our shirts, clothes, anything that smells remotely like us, cries at the smallest thing which includes my leaving the room. At the same time, he's got a cheeky and willful side, knows exactly what he wants and how to cry till he gets it. It's challenging then to leave him to cry to learn that he can't get everything done his way and that Mommy is King. Reason being, being Mommy, I think I'm biologically keyed to react to the crying. Some chemical reaction that gets triggered in my brain that tells me to go to my baby. I suppose it's one of those things that gets hot wired to ensure the existence of mankind.

Then, there's Jordan, who's willful in a different way. She's got a little mind of her own and she knows what she wants. She screams if she doesn't do it and you can't deny that the girl's got tenacity and huge lungs. This means she can cry till she wins because which ever adult is trying to calm her down just gives up with jangled nerves and decides it's much easier to give in.

A counsellor once told me that it would be a challenge to parent the two of them because their needs and dispositions are so different. Packrat is of the school of thought that says you cane the willful nature of the kid. Me, being from a family where I was hardly caned, although the slipper featured quite a fair bit, cannot bear to cane my children. Also, I know how dangerous it is because you don't know the intensity of the cane on the kid's flesh. At least, if I were to smack, my hand would hurt correspondingly to the intensity that which I smack and that in itself acts as a control.

Over the last week, I've decided the children shouldn't be allowed to get away with everything and given into all the time. The first to experience this was Evan.

Evan has the bad habit of twisting, pulling and then biting down on my nipple. It's extremely painful and I'm guessing it's akin to getting kicked in the balls although I really wouldn't know. Anyway, friends have told me to smack the bugger when he bites. Negative reinforcement. Bite Mommy, get smacked on the bum by Mommy. So I tried it. The first time he bit, I warned him in what friends have nicknamed the 'teacher tone'. That didn't even get a blink from him. So the second time he did it, I smacked him. That got his attention and he stopped and looked at me. While looking at me, he took another big chomp which caused me to involuntarily yelp and smack him a little bit harder. I think that was when he knew he had done something wrong and was getting punished for it so he stopped and wailed, with big fat tears and a red face with the "what did I do wrong?" tone. Of course, this led to me explaining why I had smacked him and consoling him and being partially amused that he was so offended and with a partial heartache for having had to smack him.

Now, Jordan. I haven't smacked Jordan yet but I have used the teacher tone with her, as have some others who help with caring for her. As I said, she's willful and will fight any attempt at doing something she's not ready to do. I think she takes after her mother. :) Anyway, when told off, she would stop whatever she was doing and look up but it's often with a look of contempt and a rather indignant "WHAT???" on her face. She also knows how to look displeased at being told off. On occasion, she would accede to what we want, which is usually to settle down and sleep but other occasions, she will get pissed off and cry and scream for not being allowed to get her way. Once again, she does get consoled but she does get a talking to as well for why her behaviour warranted a harsh tone.

I don't know how much of it sinks in but I think it's important for us to show the kids who's the boss around them and much as they like to think they are, they aren't!



Technorati Tags: babies, parenting, discipline

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The two sides of Baby J

There's been this ongoing debate in the family about which child takes after which parent. So far, the consensus is that even though Baby J looks like Packrat and his side of his family, she seems to be all me in terms of personality. High strung, antsy, temperamental, all type A. Of course, I take great offence because every time he says this, he says this in a some what mocking tone aimed at making fun of me and my neurotic ways.

In the last few weeks, we've discovered another aspect of her that reminds me that she is indeed my daughter.

I am the youngest and only girl in the family. My siblings consist of 2 much older brother. Needless to say, as I was growing up, they provided much of my points of reference and were my role models for good and for bad. The problem with having 2 older brothers to copy, I soon thought their behaviour was kosher for a girl too. This meant, climbing trees, catching spiders and basically behaving in ways most unbecoming of a young lady. In fact, that term was used on me quite a bit. I grew out of it though. I learnt to sit with my knees together, I learnt to be shy and much to the chargrin of many, I swung to the other end of the pendulum and became a Little Miss. But I also realised, you could beat the tomboy out of the girl but you really couldn't get the girl out of the tomboy and on occasion when I think no one's watching, I do like to sit in the most un-ladylike of ways and pretend that I have no semblance of grooming whatsoever.

And I've realised the same thing about my daughter. She acts like the most prissy of princesses. When she eats, she doesn't like it when she's got food smeared all over her face even though, half the time, she gets it there and all the darndest places all by her little self. She also seems to enjoy the attention when we dress her up. Most of the time, she's in dresses and skirts with a pretty hair clip to boot and she does look every bit the Pixie Princess in it. Her latest get up included the ugg ugg boots that Aunty Threez got her for Christmas. I love the boots! They're the most impractical thing in our horrendously hot weather but oh so fun to see her in and Mommy being a ditz at heart loves playing with the pom poms which Baby J tries to put in her mouth.



Doesn't she look like just the little girl in this and her little Dora dress? Oh, by the way, I've okayed Dora as something the kids can watch because Dora's part of fraternal twins, her brother's Diego and their adventures revolve around rescuing animals from evil poachers and stuff. Much better than the fashionable but horrendous prostitot characters like Winx Clubs (who are witches dressed in slut wear) and Bratz (self-explanatory I think). But I digress, that's a full post for a later date.

Anyway, so if you see Baby J, she's all girly, feminine and princess-y. But her true colours are shown when she's fast asleep where she sleeps all sprawled out. And on occasion with her foot up on the side rail of the cot. Here, she's all sprawled out. When you try to put her legs together, she kicks out instinctively and her legs go back to being obscenely unladylike.
















The other time her inate sam-seng-ness comes through is when she's eating in her high chair where she will insist on sitting with one leg up on the chair itself and occasionally, she'll prop herself against her leg. Packrat insists it's my deep buried tomboy-ish nature that she's manifesting and he's probably right on that count. But at least, if I'm anything to go by, she'll figure out that she can only be like that at home and when she's sleeping as then, she can feign ignorance. The rest of the time, she'll like pretty clothes, make up and all the beautiful trappings of being a lady. Hee.

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A first date

Jordan's first date, as blogged about by her Daddy.

So my daughter went on her first date today. It wasn't as traumatic for me as a father as I thought it would be. But then again, she had a chaperone and it lasted for all of 5 minutes.



This was getting a little too close for my liking but before I could question the young man on his intentions with my daughter, he moved away a bit.



They basically lost interest with each other after a while and the boy then proceeded to check out the pram that he was sitting in. Typically a boy to proceed to take interest in the ride over the girl.

But oh well...

At least I didn't have to wait for her till midnight (or worse) and arm myself with a shotgun.

For now...

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Back to work mom

I finally go back to work tomorrow after being off work for 8 months. I'm not going to count the 2 weeks when I went back in October because that was part time and I started work at the godly hour of 10 am rather than the usual 7am. I am thus, filled with some sense of hesitation. And my hesitation exists on many levels for many reasons.

1. It is my first day back to serious work after I was put on serious medical leave pending the arrival of the twins in April last year.

2. It's a new place of work. I decided that my previous work place was too far for me to travel to. This had initially filled me with a great amount of guilt because, while I did feel I was ready for a change of scenery, my previous work place had been extremely understanding to me all through my pregnancy and my leave. The only problem was that it was on the other side of the island and the travelling compounded by the shortage of sleep made it a dangerous drive back and forth. So anyway, new work places are always intimidating.

3. I'm sick. 8 months, I haven't really fallen sick but in the last 2 days, I've been sick with 2 different bugs. I had severe food poisoning where I threw up 5 times in the course of 3 hours and subsequently passed out for the rest of the evening till the next morning and then this morning, I wake up with a drippy nose which my brother assures me is caused by the same bug that I ingested that caused the food poisioning. Great. I however, think that it's just a psycho-somatic reaction to me having to go back to work.

4. As ditzy as it sounds, it's important to me. I don't have anything to wear. I can't seem to find my pre-pregnancy work clothes. I'm certain I had a large enough wardrobe not to ever repeat my clothes within a semester but I don't know where they've all disappeared to. And now that my favourite brands have, in the course of the last 2 years become part of a uni student's couture, I need to find new lines of clothes that don't look slutty, grungy or too boho which seems to be trend these days.

5. I'll miss my children and I'm torn. When I'm home, sometimes they drive me so crazy because they're always needing something and I can get through the day without having a clue what I've accomplished through the day. But then now that I'm going to be out at work consistently, I know I'm going to miss them. I'm going to be wondering what they are up to, what new tricks they would have learnt while I've been at work and whether I'll be doing our relationship any irreparable damage by going back to work. This is caused by all the breastfeeding and Stay at home Mom Nazis that have succeeded in imbuing the great demons of guilt and insecurity into my sub conscience.

So all in, I'm not sure about it. I know it'll be good for me though. I know we need the money. I know I need to get my brain working again. And I know that other women have gone before me back to work and their kids have turned out fine- my own mother and sister in law being the prime examples in my life. So, it should turn out okay after I get through my initial jitters. But till then, I'll be missing my kids and counting the hours till I can go home.


Technorati Tags: babies, maternity leave, back to work,

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