Greener grass

In any situation, there will always be people who will wish to be some place else, in a better situation. And there will always be a person who is in a worse situation who wishes he could trade up. It is known by many names. Envy, greed, the glass being half empty... but at the same time, the glass can also be half full or that there is a silver lining. It usually is a matter of the perspective that is taken.

I realised, moms and moms-to be are such people. Some of them are like that because of circumstance. Some of them because they are just never satisfied.

For the one who wants to be pregnant, their expectant friend has it all.
For the expectant one, the loss of freedom is a frightening thought.

For the one expecting a girl, a boy who would carry on the name would have been better.
For the one expecting a boy, a girl is preferable because she will look after her parents when they are old.

For the one still breastfeeding, stopping would be ideal.
For the one unable to breastfeed, a freezer full of milk is 'bow'-worthy.

For the one who becomes pregnant unexpectedly, only the inconvenience is thought about.
For the one who loses the baby unexpectedly, if only the child could have been saved regardless of cost.

For the one who discovers after birth, something wrong with the child, there is guilt possibly wishing that the child would not live.
For the one who miscarries, at least there is a child to be brought home.

So there is always want. Sometimes understandable, other times, you just want to throw a soiled full diaper at them.

Technorati Tags: babies, pregnancy, parenting

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The Yammerer

My mom said that when I was little, I could chatter all the way from Bukit Timah in the West to Tanjong Katong in the East non stop. I couldn't imagine how that could have been the case, but I have a strong feeling, I'm not going to have to wait long to find out.

Today, it was as if a switch had been flipped and Baby J started to speak not in words or gibberish phrases but full gibberish sentences which I suspect, in her mind amount to a story that she is trying to tell us.






If you notice that the video is shaking a little bit, it's me shaking from keeping all the laughter in. Every new word and new action is a source of pride for us but when it's so animatedly incoherent, it's just plain funny. Watch out for the last bit where she does a mixture of a flying kiss and her "fish goes UM!" sound.


Technorati Tags: babies, speech development

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Rouser of the Rabble

The twins have settled in school! Thank God! They still cry when I drop them off but they apparently stop the minute I leave and the minute "Circle Time" starts. I also know for a fact that they're good in school because previously when I went to pick them up, they would drop whatever they're doing and run to me crying and laughing out of relief; well, what I imagine to be relief. Now, when I appear, they look up, acknowledge that I'm around and go back to whatever high jinks they were up to previously. It's like "Oh, ok! Hi Mommy! I'm busy ok? Later!"

Yesterday, I got true confirmation that all is well in school. My daughter incited a riot in class that disrupted the entire lesson. They were doing an animal matching game in class where each child had an animal and had to match the baby animal to the adult animal. Jordan somehow or other got hold of a crocodile (I don't know how one distinguishes a baby croc from an adult croc, especially for toddlers who have no concept of big or small) and decided that she was going to chase Evan with it. So she thunders after him shouting "UHM!" at the top of her lungs. He knows it's a game and takes off, chuckling and squealing round the room. The other kids see this, decide to take up arms (animals in this case) and followed the leader (Jordan), chasing one another round the room yelling "UHM!" on top of their lungs.

According to the teacher, that was the end of the lesson they planned and by the time they managed to get the class back under control, it was time to head out to the playground for even more high energy activities.

So my little instigator. I should hire her out to factories that want to protest and picket. I'm sure she'll be quite happy to lead it and fling the first rock. Strange thing to be proud of, possibly only now, at this stage when she doesn't know what a Molotov cocktail is and the police won't arrest her for disturbing the peace or causing civil unrest.


Technorati Tags: babies, school

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Diplomacy but not the Henry Kissinger way

I am always full of admiration of people who talk about how their children love each other and protect one another. I believe that these children are fictitious and live in a parallel universe because I know no children like that. And obviously, my children aren't like that.

My twins fight for my attention, fight for each other's toys and snatch it (Jordan), get pissed off because he can't win and chuck and royal fit (Evan), bite in retaliation (Evan), scream and stamp feet (Evan once again), cry pitifully when punished (Jordan), have crying that self-perpetuates into a sobbing-hiccuping bawl (Jordan) and fling the toy given in concession with great anger (Evan). Thankfully, they are also beginning to show some sense of diplomacy and other means of conflict resolution that does not involve violence. The foreign policy stuff I did in uni comes in useful here. They try to be conciliatory, they try quid pro quo- I'll give you this toy, if you give me that one-although even at 20 months, they understand the idea of equal value and if it is not, the discussion is off the table. Literally. Flung off.

So, here's when quid pro quo didn't work, even though the items in question were exactly the same. 900g milk tins albeit of different brands (We're testing which one they are least averse to). This exchange required a third party peace broker to remove the offending item and even then tensions were fraught between both parties. Thankfully, unlike nations with leaders with elephant memories, it is easier to broker peace between 20 month olds because they are easily distracted, by the bird flying by or the airplane in the sky.



Technorati Tags: babies, siblings, fighting

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The end is near

To date, I have breastfed for 19 months, 3 weeks and 1 day or so my Lilypie counter tells me. I have weathered through some episodes of mastitis, some episodes of Baby J rejecting the breast, the breast pump breaking down, pump parts mysteriously disappearing, travelling-expressing and storing milk in Bali, dumping milk into milk baths in Phuket , expressing on the flights to Melbourne and Las Vegas and many other adventures. I was aiming to hit 2 years but I'm not sure if I'll get there.

The reason is that my milk supply's taken quite a dip, regardless of all the support I have given it with medication and herbal supplements. It might be long term exhaustion, it might be the running around I do everyday despite the fact that I'm not working, it might be the fact that I try not to give in to all my culinary cravings or it might just be that it's time and the hormones have made the decision for me.

It will be a relief in some ways. I will be able to go to bed when I'm sleepy rather than go to bed an hour past sleepy. I will be able to fit into my pre-pregnancy bras, assuming the boobs are obedient and shrink like they are supposed to. I won't have to divide my days into 6 hour blocks and be stuck for half an hour a time to a machine extracting milk out of me. I will be able to travel without nursing equipment and incurring strange looks at customs when my bag goes through the x-ray machine. I will not need to constantly worry that the twins are consuming bad milk, especially at night when their milk is warmed up and left for a while before they drink it. I will also stop destroying the environment by packing my milk into milk bags that cannot be recycled and will stop spending a fortune buying the aforementioned milk bags.

On the flip side, I will be sad. Instead of spending a fortune on milk bags, I will spend an even greater fortune buying formula. I will have to forgo the antibodies that breastmilk affords the twins. I worry about them falling sick more; now when they fall sick, I ramp up the amount of fresh breast milk they get. Even if it doesn't really do much good, it makes me feel better. I will miss the time when Baby J snuggles up to me and feeds. Evan gave that up a long time ago but gets a big kick out of watching me express. I will miss Baby J asking for "meeyurk" and tugging at my top. I will miss knowing that I am burning an extra 500 calories by not doing much else than being a human milk machine. I will miss not having to worry as much about my weight and not being able to find time to exercise. Someone said I should convert the time I express into time exercising, but I don't really know about that one yet. I will get my periods in full force and all and sundry that comes with it. Neither Packrat nor I are looking forward to that.

I'm still trying to prolong it. Part of me wants to just let it be. After all, they will be 20 months in a couple of days. But the other part of me, I think the dogged part of me is loath to give up this part of me.

Technorati Tags: babies, breastfeeding

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Book in blues

I hated Sundays when I used to work. The last couple of months, the days of the week didn't make a difference especially when Packrat hadn't gone back to work. Now that he has, I look forward to the days that he isn't at work. But there hasn't been dread, the way I used to previously. But over this weekend, I came close to feeling that same horrid rock in the stomach feeling.

Why?

Because of the twins. Because of their averse reaction to school. Mostly Baby J's. She cries pitifully when I put her into the car seat. Over the weekend, when I put Jordan into the car, she cried too and only stopped when I pointed out that her backpack that she brings to school, wasn't in the car. She continues wailing when she arrives at school and that escalates when the teachers take her from me. So, my ears ring with her cries for half an hour and it takes me about that long to shirk off the feeling of being the world's most terrible mom. When I calm down enough from that, I end up feeling bad for Evan who had cheerfully run off and didn't need Mommy's reassurance and was subsequently and involuntarily ignored because of the loud protests from his sister.

In Packrat's words, Evan is easily contented and happy to run about on his own with a goofy grin. And in his words, Evan is easy to neglect. Those 5 words make me feel depths of guilt that penetrate the ones that Baby J's wailing brought about.

So between the both of them, I hate school and I hate Sundays and Monday mornings that come after.

Technorati Tags: babies, going to school

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Love is in the air

Now that the kids are no longer alien and squeamish about paint, I decided that it was time they spend some time mucking around with colours and materials. Since Valentine's Day was round the corner, I went to get some art supplies so that we could hopefully fashion something out of their mucking around.

I found a design I liked online. It looked easy enough to replicate. Unfortunately, it didn't account for the squirmy uncooperative hands of 19 month olds and their penchant for smearing glitter all over the place and uncreative me trying to make something presentable out of it.

This is the outcome. I think they look more like squished kidneys than anything. Unlike my brother, Packrat or my mom and sister-in-law, I have zero inclination toward art. I liked mucking around but had no sense of it. In fact, one of my best friends and I were about the only two people in our class that failed at an art exam where we had to paint a papaya.










































One for Papa, of course. One for Ah Ma and Ah Gong. One for Godmama who received hers with much glee yesterday and one for Godpa Mark because he was lamenting the fact that our mom no longer had time to send her children Valentine's Day cards.

Evan's adventure with the cards lasted longer than Jordan's. Not only did he print his fists on it, he came with me to the post office, stuck the stamp on the envelope for Godmama's card and dumped the card into the post box, clapping his hands full of glee and accomplishment.

Me? I'm just glad that Valentine's Day is once a year, although there's also Mothers' Day and Fathers' Day and all the birthdays. I think by the time I make the next card, I would have found all the stray tinsel and gotten it out of the places it shouldn't have been to begin with.

Technorati Tags: babies, Valentine's Day, craft

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Baked goods

Apparently the way to a reticient child's heart is through baked goods. Jordan who has been crying quite a bit in school because she really doesn't like being left there by Mommy was quite happily distracted stirring batter and adding sprinkles and choc chips into the mixture.

This was to celebrate Valentine's Day. The kids stirred the batter, dumped the batter into cake tins and then when it was baked, used a cookie cutter to cut it into hearts for their parents.















It looked like they had fun. It looked like something I should do with them at home. The last time we made muffins, they put the muffin cups into the tray. After that, Packrat gave up because that endeavour took them 10 minutes. But I'm inclined to try it again at some point, seeing that they had fun and Packrat lurves butter cake.

I think gradually school is becoming a fun place for them. The morning histrionics are still quite a sight to behold but I hear they get better when I leave. That makes me feel a little bit less of a rat, but there is still some element of rodent there that hasn't been banished.

Technorati Tags: babies, Valentine's Day, School

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East meets west

Because the twins' school has a large Japanese population, they celebrated Setsuben- Japanese bean throwing festival last week and all the mommies had to bring food for the kids' lunch. Once again, because of the large Japanese population, much of the pot lucked food, apart from my chicken wings, were Japanese. There was sushi, inari, soba, onigiri and strangely enough, Japanese pasta.

Anyway, the twins had a field day experimenting with the different foods and it turned out that Evan really liked sushi, taking two big pieces of it on top of onigiri and a bite of my inari. This led Ee-Por to comment that Evan needed to find himself a Japanese bride which of course led me to roll my eyes.

Of course, Packrat was thrilled, not about the Japanese bride bit but about the Japanese food bit since one of the greatest loves of his life is Japanese food. This, together with being at home more and wondering if they were bored with their porridge-soup meals led me to think about making Japanese food for some of their meals.

So first, there was the buying of the Australian Calrose rice which is a cheaper alternative to real Japanese rice. Then there was the buying of the salmon from a Japanese supermarket to ensure that it would be a full Japanese experience for them. And then there was me taking a deep breath so that I could come face to face with the salmon. The smell of the grilled salmon evokes a slightly nostalgic and slightly nauseous at the same time. While carrying the twins, I was constantly reminded of the importance of salmon and it's Omega-3 properties. At the same time, I hated fish with a passion with salmon leading the charge. Packrat, being the sweetie he was, tried different ways to get me to eat it, ways that would stay down. What we found worked and I actually developed a liking for was salmon flaked into sushi rice and fashioned in onigiri; rice balls.

Making it for the twins seems to have brought that entire memory full circle, although I never really made the onigiri myself and had to conjure up the memory of Packrat fashioning the rice balls with warm rice and a bowl of water. Thankfully it's quite an idiot proof meal to make as long as the rice and salmon are done right and one played with play dough as a child.

The result was 12 snooker ball sized balls of rice with the salmon flakes adding a pretty peach tinge to it.

















I haven't been staying home long enough to tire of the thrill of doing little things like that for the kids instead of leaving it up to the twins. So, I hung around to see if they would eat my attempt of Japanese cuisine for them. As usual, their reactions was of the night-day, black-white variety.

Evan proved that his dalliance with sushi at school wasn't really a dalliance. The boy popped the entire rice ball into his mouth in his excitement, only to have to spit it out because it was too much for his little mouth.



















Jordan on the other hand, took one whiff at the rice ball and turned away, burying her face into Ee-Por's shoulder, refusing to even look up at what Mommy made for her. When we finally coaxed her to take a mouthful, she made like she was going to gag; the true sign of her displeasure at whatever food was offending her sensitivities, of which she has many. There wasn't much else for her to eat if she wasn't going to eat her onigiri so I had to figure out what I could whip up for her in a hurry which had equivalent nutrition. Since we, adults were having pasta and meat sauce for dinner, that seemed like the likely replacement. I just needed to complete the following ... Rice is to pasta as Salmon is to _____? And the closest I could come up with was cheese.

Now, that, Baby J had no problems with, literally breathing it down in 5 minutes when coaxing her to take the mouthful of rice had taken us a good 20 minutes- further fortifying the difference between brother and sister.

I suspect as they get older and their taste more diverse, it's going to be impossible to make meals a simple affair where everyone eats the same thing. Time to start being creative.


Technorati Tags: babies, eating habits, Japanese food

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Raw Hide

There are so many books out there on bringing up toddlers and how to prepare them to go to school. There's the talking to them. And the developing a 'going to school' routine with them that even deals with what to say to them. One thing the books don't deal with, which is sorely needed and yes, I'm going to sound like a big cry baby saying this, is HOW TO PREPARE THE PARENTS FOR PRE-SCHOOL!

And by that, I'm not talking about the Singapore edition where it tells the parents to take some course to teach the kids what they need to know before starting pre-school like perhaps, how to breathe, how to swallow, how to eat and how to walk...

I'm actually talking about how to deal with the heart wrenching experience which is to leave a crying child, or two at the school gate. It requires a mind of steel and a heart of stone. Both of which I pretend to have but don't. Today, Baby J was happily munching on an egg when I decided to leave. I'd already kissed her good bye but she was oblivious as was Evan. But as I made my way to the door, she must have seen me and ran after me. I heard her, her footsteps and her wail of anguish and I just kept on walking, resolutely to the car. Not turning around, knowing that I was being cruel but that it was necessary for her and for me.

By the time I shut the car door, I was a nano second from dissolving into a puddle of self-flagellating tears for doing that to my 19 month old. Anger, guilt, self- loathing, anxiety...all potent poisons to a mother's mind. And they are swirl in there, tormenting me as I drive off with my twins left behind.

I cannot imagine anyone who can do this and not feel anything. From the exterior, I'm sure some see me as indifferent, careless and hard hearted. But I know the truth. I'm over-sensitive, insecure and overly- empathetic. So, while the mature me knows that by leaving and coming back when promised, I'm teaching my twins to trust me, to learn not to depend on me yet know that I'll be there for them, I also cannot help but feel that I'm being cruel. That my children will remember this incident and attribute their potentialy dysunctional behaviour to being unceremoniously dumped by Mommy at playschool. Packrat's very good at reminding me that it's a good thing they're going to school. I know some will disagree and some have put the emotional guilt on me for doing this, but it's the right decision for us and we're standing by it.

So, I'll just have to suck it up and ignore the criticism, allow the crying to fall to deaf ears and develop the skin of a hippo and just patiently wait till the twins can sail through the school gates and wave a nonchalant good-bye. Of course, I'm sure that by that time, I'll be wishing for them to be clinging onto me.

Technorati Tags: babies, parental guilt, playschool

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Stairway to heaven

Stairs are a nightmare for any mother with toddler children. The minute the children could walk, we bought safety gates to put at the top of the stairs. They hate being barricaded. But too bad, their safety comes before their toddler desires. There have been scares.

Both Evan and Jordan are extremely zealous in descending the stairs. Often it's because there's the promise of more fun downstairs or people at the dining table, that is visible once the landing has been rounded. On occasion, I have worried about Jordan's shoulder socket being yanked out because she lurches and barrels down the stairs headlong with only me keeping her from tumbling down. Evan has actually tumbled down before, thankfully without hitting his head but giving us the fright of our lives and having me scream with fear I had until then never felt before.

But there is a lighter side to these stairway drama. Of course, the over-protective older generation find no humour in it and proceeded to give me a lecture about safety and toddlers. Anyway.

The twins love ransacking their grandfather's shirt breast pocket. They love his pen and his card holder. Both of them. One card holder, four grubby, snatchy hands. Sometimes Evan gets to it first, sometimes Jordan. But it is prized possession. One day, Evan got hold of it because Baby J was distracted by having shoes taken off her. Baby J catches sight of the "Golden Snitch" in Evan's hands and makes at him. Evan takes off, with the head start since there aren't hands holding him back. He runs across the living room, knowing his sister is in hot pursuit, scampers up the stairs, surely and quickly, also knowing that if his sister followed him, she would be stopped, which she was. Of course, he was chased after too by our helper and given a talking to.

Then, there was yesterday where for about 5 minutes a giant hunt for a missing Evan ensued. When they come home from school, I bathe the both of them. Usually I do it in my bathroom, both at the same time. I had announced this to them very loudly before hauling Baby J up the stairs leaving Evan with Ee-Por. But when Ee- Por looked up, he was gone. Then there was 2 minutes of "No... I thought you had him" before everyone fanned out through the house looking for him, hoping that he hadn't fallen into a bucket of water or something equally horrifying. He was finally found, once again, conquering the stairs so quickly that no one saw him, standing and waiting patiently in my shower stall holding his bottle of shampoo, for me to come shower him, totally oblivious of the panic that he had caused.

Yes, it is dangerous. I am fully aware of that. But kids do do the darndest things.

Technorati Tags: babies, stairs

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Rat

I haven't blogged much this week because the kids have been in school. It's ironic. I'm supposed to be more free because the kids are in school but I'm not. We started on Monday. I use "We" as the collective pronoun of choice because it was indeed a WE effort. As parents, we were allowed 3 days to settle the kids. So, on Monday, it was Packrat and I. On Tuesday, it was Ee-Por and I. On Wednesday it was Ah Ma and I. So, yes, we started school on Monday.

I had the usual fears. That they would fall, that they would catch germs...I physically dragged Evan away from this boy who had snot all over his face. I now know why it is important to dress one's kids' presentably. This boy, with snot all over his face, also had dried food stains all over his face and his t-shirt didn't look any better. Immediately, I wondered why he was allowed out of the house looking like that. My subsequent thought was to smack my own wrists because I was judging a fellow mom.

Anyway, thankfully, there wasn't too much histrionics from my kids. They fussed when they were in an enclosed space i.e. their classroom. They fussed when they weren't allowed to go out to the playground. Generally, they fussed when they didn't get their own way. Some of the time, the teachers gave in, but some of the time, the teachers stood firm, depending. In my book, that's a good thing. They also fussed when I left the room. They wanted me beside them, holding their hands while they sang, danced, did craft everything. The only time they let me go and were happy to wander off on their own was when it was tricycle time. Who needs Mommy when there are wheels?

Watching them, I really need not worry about them. Most of the tricycles were too big for them. There were some that were trishaw like, allowing for passengers. The twins immediately took a liking to those ones and were unfazed that they did not really know whoever was taking them round. Of course, we could look at it through paranoid Mommy eyes and be concerned that they trusted anyone who had a toy they liked. But for this, I much prefer looking at it as the glass being half full.

Anyway, today being the fourth day, I could no longer be there with them. I think that hurt me more than it hurt them. I was nervous and fearful that they would cry. I did everything the books told me to do, look them in the eye and tell them that I loved them and I was going to come back for them. At that point, they were distracted enough for me to leave and their very capable teacher gestured for me to go. So I did and then felt like a total rat after that because I didn't say good bye properly. I was ridden with guilt. What if they turned around and discovered I wasn't there? Would I have scarred them for life? Would they be upset and nervous for the 3 hours that I had left them?

I was ready to cry after that. And when I returned to pick them up, I realised I was the only one. The twins had a merry ol' time without me around, rolling dough, playing on the swings, eating chicken rice for lunch... The only time they cried, like I said was when they wanted something and they weren't given it or when they had something snatched from them. All the same reasons why they cry at home.

I now pray that tomorrow, they wouldn't be the wiser about me taking them to school and disappearing for a few glorious hours. I just don't want today to be the equivalent of beginner's luck.
























Getting ready to go to school, school bags and all. Watching Dora the Explorer helped because Dora always had a backpack. So the twins have learnt to associate going to school with being able to wear the backpacks on their backs, even though they lose their balance from having more weight concentrated on their backs all of a sudden.




















This is disgruntled circle time where they'd rather run free. Baby J's two favourite friends are Ko, the one facing the camera in a purple polo shirt and Shin, the pseudo Sumo boy in the back. Funny though because Ko is quite a thug and got a big kick out of taking what Baby J was holding on to. Rude and bad behaviour but funny at the same time because it was the first time we'd seen Baby J cowed by anyone. In Packrat's words, the bully has met her match. Of course, when the Bully becomes to the Bullied, there are loud wails and tears to follow.
























Little Sumo Shin and Pretty Miyu are the twins' best friends because they indulge the twins in their need to be peddled around. And Miyu is the quintessential big sister. Ever so often, she would turn around and actually check on her 'passengers' and make sure they were ok. Sumo Shin was just a speed demon, racing up and down which gave me a heart attack but sent the twins into gales of chuckles.

So if they go on doing well and crying less, it will be good. Once Mommy gets over feeling like a rat dumping them there in the mornings so that she can go get some work done.


Technorati Tags: babies, playschool

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