Oh Anya!

(One Saturday night, leaving for home from my parents'.)

Me: "Anya, do you need to pee? We are going home and it will take a while before you can use bathroom again."

Anya: "No. Anya don't want pee-pee."

Me: "Are you sure? It will take some time, you know?"

Anya: "Yes, Anya don't want."

Me: "Okay, if you say so."

(In the car. Five minutes after setting off.)

Anya: "Mommy! Anya wants pee-pee!"

Husband and I: *Sigh simultaneously*

Me: "Alright sweetheart, you have two choices. You can either hold your pee till we reach home. It will be another 15 minutes. Or, Daddy can stop the car but then you will have to pee at the roadside on the grass."

Anya: "Don't want (to pee at roadside). Anya will hold pee-pee."

The Husband: "You sure you can hold?"

Anya: "Yes."

Me: "Okay. In that case, you hold your pee. If you cannot hold anymore, you tell us, Daddy will then stop at the roadsie for you, alright?"

Anya: "Okay."

(Another 5 minutes passed. We were playing her music & movement sings CD in the car. One of her favorite upbeat song came on. I started clapping to the beat, turned around and asked her to join in.)

Me: "Sweetheart, you like this song right? Why aren't you clapping?"

Anya: "Anya no hand; Anya hold peep-pee." (Saying that, she held up her right hand and gesticulate to show that her left hand is covering her crouch.."

... ...

Oh, Anya!

Back!

Hi there! I know, I disappeared. Stress continued to build up in the last few weeks. I was overwhelmed and felt the need for a respite from blogging. So what has been up in our little household? Here's a quick update on the two girls whose name bored the title of this blog:

On Arielle:

We have begun feeding her solids. So far, she has eaten rice cereal (Bellamy's), papayas and prune puree. Milk feeds continue to be a challenge. On top of that, a visit to the pediatrician's office also made us recognize that constipation is another issue.

Things we do to get her to drink milk.

More importantly, after been stressed out for weeks by her feeding issues, I have learned to take things in my stride. So, yes, she may jolly well always have problems drinking milk and removing bowels.. Heck, even when these issues are resolved, there will be other challenges coming. The gist is, I learned to move by faith.

Food adventure begins!

Nom nom! Prunes are good stuff!

Today, we suddenly see remarkable improvements. I choose to believe it is by divine intervention because, last night, for once, my soul was still when I prayed faithfully for my baby girl. On hindsight, I didn't even realize that I was so unsettled. As I prayed, I was drawn to a vision of a soiled diaper with..(skip this part if you are eating while reading this).. oily poop. And so, I was led to pray for her digestive system to be oiled so that her poop will be able to slip out with ease.

After prayers, I did a bit of reading up in the Internet for viable home remedies for babies constipation. The first thing that caught my attention was this blog where a mother was sharing how she uses Q-tip dipped in Vaseline to do a swipe and swirl around baby's anus. The result was impressive immediate toothpaste-like projectile poop flying through the air. Highly inspired but slightly disturbed by the possible dangers of poking into my baby's hiney, I did a search on "q-tip Vaseline baby constipation". I could not believe the sheer amount of results yielded. I felt like I must be some mountain turtle ignorant of the use of such a seemingly vastly used method.

This morning, I sent the Husband to go in search for a bottle of Vaseline while I bring Anya for her music class. Full of hope, I tried it on Arielle the moment i walked in through our door with the bottle of magic stuff. Though half expecting poop to come flying out like what that mother described on her blog, I was not surprise when nothing happen after I performed the swipe and swirl. You see, i really learned to take things in my stride.

So, after two hours where nothing came out of Arielle (except for lots of grunting as she continued to push her bowels to no avail), we decided to bring her to our family doctor. Given today is the fifth day that she went without and second day that she has been heaving and grunting; must be quite uncomfortable by now right, we reckoned. To cut the story of the visit short: the biggest piece of advice we went home with was to (you might have guessed it) apply Vaseline on her hiney!

With that, we went home and religiously (A pun!) performed the swipe and swirl. An hour and some more grunting later, we had our first lightly soiled diaper in days. Praise God! By the time it was bedtime, we already have a total of three soiled diapers - the last one with good considerable amount of output. Yippee! 

Oh, and the divine intervention that we experienced today did not just stop there. Today, for the first time in months, she could drink her milk cheerfully at every milk feeds and wide awake! As I'm typing this, I've kinda gone teary-eyed. My heart is so full of thankfulness. Be it even for one day, just today only, that we get go experience such normalcy in feeding her, it is good enough. For I get to see God's intervention in our lives.

On Anya: 

These days, the toddler is picking up words and skills faster than we realize. As a result, we are often surprised by her (thankfully, more often, the surprises are pleasant ones!).

In addition, she is big on helping lately. I suspect it has to do a lot with increasing her sense of self-worth and feeling independent enough to help out. With that, whenever we are caught in a tricky situation with her, all we need to is conveniently drop in the word "help" in a sentence to get her to do something and she would gladly oblige. Woots! Catastrophe diverted.

"Anya, can you help to fetch Arielle's sippy cup?" / "Anya, do you want to help make your own milk?" / "do you want to help mommy as I bathe Arielle?" etc... 

Making her own milk

She is always so willing to help. So happy to be of help. So proud to be useful around the house. Likewise, our (the Husband's and my) hearts are brimming with pride and love, seeing our firstborn transforming to be this little person of her own.

Oh, and also, we continue to have some really enjoyable and funny conversations with her. Here is just two that I can remember offhand.

First scenario - we were eating a lunch made of McDonald's take-out. I asked, "Anya, what are we eating?". She gave my question some thought then sang,"E-I-E-I-Oooo...!"

Second scenario - Th Husband was bathing her in the shower room. He instructed, "Anya, turn around and face me please.". She wheeled round then repeated after the Husband, "Turn around.. Face Daddy.. " then, with her arms outstretched, she cupped the Husband's face and said "There.. Daddy's face.. Daddy's mouth, eyes, nose.. Ears!" .

Thanks to our little girl, there are so much needed laughter in the house. :)

Making us laugh even when she is asleep.

Despite the trials of parenthood, we are thankful to have y'all in our lives. The joy and love that came with you are immeasurable.

With that,i shall end off with a bible verse that has encouraged me greatly during this period of struggle. Maybe, just maybe you are needing some encouragement too. :)

Romans 12:12 (NIV)

"Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer."

Learning mandarin

At 22 months, Anya is communicating with us predominantly in English. This is a result of The Husband and I speaking to her in English even though she hears us speaking to each other 50/50 in English and Mandarin. 

Over at The In-laws, they communicate with her in Mandarin. Still, Anya always replies them in English. The MIL has been cautioning us not to put off teaching her Mandarin lest she has difficulties catching up when she reaches schooling age. So we have been trying to teach her to identify things around the house in Chinese.Here's an example of dialogue where I was trying to teach her Mandarin. 

Among the leftover Lunar New Year goodies that we are clearing out (i.e. stuffing our faces with them), there is one item that Anya particularly likes to eat. It is none other than 山楂 (Chinese hawthorn). 

Seeing how much she likes them, I believe she would take an extra interest in learning how to say it, so here was how it went:

Me: "Anya, this is called ' 山楂' in Chinese."

She: *eyes fixated on the one I'm holding in my hand, smiling widely in anticipation*

Me: "Anya, can you say ' 山楂'?"

She, in a whiny voice: *still smiling while pointing at it* "Anya wants...." 

Me. thinking that it will be helpful to break down the words: "Okay. Can you say ' 山'?"

She, in a funny accent: " shannnn.."

Me: "Say 山 again."

She, eyes never leaving the item: "shannn..."   

Me: "Now, say '楂'."

She, again in a funny accent: "zhhhaaa.."

Me: "Say 楂 again."

She: "ZHHHAAAAAA..."

Me, feeling slightly excited that things are going so well, beams and exclaimed: "Good job! Now, Anya, say *pauses for effect* ' 山楂'..!"

She, catching on the excitement: "YEAH!!!" *Proceeds to clap, jumping up and down*

Okay. At this point, I am not so sure about being an effective bilingual but I sure think that she can be an excellent cheerleader.  

Live Commentary

Now that Anya can string together short simple sentences, we get a live telecast of what goes inside her little head every now and then. It is cute, really. Maybe I will eat back my words weeks down the road when I get sick of it or if her chattiness grows incessant as her speech improves. Right now, we are finding the idea very fresh and are simply adoring the little commentator's firing away.

Here's some example of what she will broadcast on a typical day.

"Baby drink milk."

"Shhh... Meimei sleeping."

"Anya hugs Arielle."

"Baby crying."

"Mommy's fruits. Mommy share fruits Anya." (meaning I shared with her my fruits)

"Mommy's phone."

"Daddy help, please?"

"Daddy no more?" *pauses to think then continues* "Daddy working."

"Anya go pompom."

"Ar-fin (Muffin) sleeping."

"Biscuits. Anya eats biscuits."

 Etc...

The cutest thing that she comments on?

"Anya crying."

For whatever reason that set her off into tears - be it a booboo, being disciplined or throwing a tantrum, she will burst into tears, then suddenly pause and announces, "Anya crying.", then carry on with her wailing. 

Often than not, because the situation does not allow it, we find ourselves pursing our lips and holding back the urge to laugh.

Besides being a little commentator, announcing all that she observes around the house, she seems to be getting a tad bossy.

Just earlier on when she was having lunch, she suddenly piped, "Baby crying.". The Helper and I pricked our ears and listened for sounds (if any) from my bedroom where Arielle was sleeping. Nothing. 

"Baby's not crying. She is sleeping." I replied. 

Apparently, she has extraordinary ears, either that or vivid imaginations because she insisted again, louder this time to assert her point, "Baby's crying.". Then she instructed, "Mommy, go check.", gesturing to the direction of my room. 

With that, I duly did what she instructed - lest she raises her voice further insistence and wake Arielle up. That would be a Anya-fulfilled prophecy.

Silly mommy

In case you think I have disappeared. Nope, I haven't.

In fact, I have a few half-written entries saved in as drafts that cannot be published simply because, well, they were half-written. And the reason why they were half-written were because my time are no longer mine with two little girls under my care who disrupt my line of thoughts by taking turns to wake up prematurely from their naps, demanding my attention when it is rightfully a time for me to have some peace and quiet.

Why a few half-written entries and not complete one entry before moving onto another? You'd ask.Well, the moment has passed, and the first entry simply do not seem relevant anymore the next time I sit in front of the laptop. Therefore, I have decided to go for shorter entries. More manageable, more achievable.

This one, is entitled 'Silly Mommy' because it depicts one of the many silly things that I've done.

Remember after that thigh-wedged-in-cot saga, we installed a surveillance camera in Anya's room to monitor on her movements during her nap? Well, I just put down for her nap 20 minutes ago. When I came back to my room, switched on my laptop and opened the webpage to check if she is asleep, here's what I see... ...

Earlier on, I was playing with Anya in her room. I was the one who had unwittingly placed the balloon in that strategic position. Duh.

Now, judging that there is no more movement in the cot (i think), I can only assume that she is asleep.

All hail the burping king!

Since the confinement nanny left, my little household has been obsessing over burping the baby. 

It seems that Arielle is a difficult baby to burp. Either that or we are rusty in expeling gas out of babies. Now, when I say we are rusty, the 'we' really refers only to my mom and myself. The Husband, on the other way, has no problem whatsoever in making Arielle belch.

Actually, my mom and I think that the strength of his pats are a little bit too strong for a teeny baby. When we voiced it out, The Husband cheekily retorts, "You all are just sore losers.". Duh.

As a result of my mom and my failure in burping, some of the feeding sessions have evolved into a game of "Pass the baby". Here's how it goes: After the baby finishes the bottle, my mom will burp her for a good ten minutes. When no gas comes out, I will take over for another five minutes or so. Still, nothing comes out of the baby, except for cries of protest that she is all gassy and uncomfortable.Then Burping King takes over. Once he sits her onto his lap, she goes all calm and quiet while he does his thing. Before long, we hear a resounding belch where Arielle will then settle peacefully back to sleep. 

Right now, I am adopting Burping King's seemingly-cruel-but-is-really-effective way of patting. Hard. More strength. So far, I have not been consistent in successfully burping the little one but interestingly, I did manage to expel some gas out for myself everytime we're at it. *belch!*

What has the big sister been up to?

... Having regular high tea sessions with her friends...

... Still very interested in our family photo album...

... Having a ball of a time...

... Testing out her baby sister's furniture...

... Channeling the hip hop junkie in her...

 

... Being a 'mommy' herself...

... Regressing to being a baby by imitating her little sister's behaviour...

... Last but not least, giving away loads of kisses and hugs to her baby sister. (I just realised I already have dozens of pictures taken of her kissing and cuddling Arielle.) :)

Another conversation with The Tod

This time round, the conversation drove both of us nuts.

Here's the setting:
The Tod and I were watching Pororo on Disney Junior channel. This particular episode depicts how Crong (one of the character, a baby dinosaur) found a baby seal by the sea. I wish I could upload the picture of the said baby seal (the crux of this conversation), but I could not find it on the Internet. Anyway, for some reason - probably the husky "barks" of the baby seal, Anya thinks that it is a dog.

"Dog!", she said while pointing at the baby seal. 
"No, Anya. That is a seal. A baby seal.", I replied. 
With her chin slightly jutted, she repeated, "Dog!".
"No. It sounds like a dog, but it is a seal.", I explained.

This line of conversation ping-ponged to and fro between us for the next couple of minutes, with her repeatedly insisting that it was a dog while my patience thinned out while trying to get the facts across to her.

The end of this conversation was eventually initiated by The Tod whom, with a grave tone of finality drawled, "DO-O-O-OG..!..!", and simultaneously tossed a small toy in her hand onto the floor in exasperation.

Is this the start of mother-vs-child verbal sparring?

Overheard from the toddler

Lately, Anya has started to string words together more. For example, "Bye, Daddy.", "Dessert, nice!". With this new capability, things has gotten more interesting in the house.

Just this afternoon, I left home for my check-ups when Anya was still having her nap. Later in the evening when I got back, The Helper narrated the conversation she had with Anya when she woke up.

Anya, still in her cot: "Mommy... Mommy.."
Helper: "Anya, Mommy go see doctor. Mommy not at home already. Can Auntie 'baobao' (carry)?"
Anya: "No! Mommy..? Mommy..."
Helper: "Anya, Mommy not home. Come, baby, Auntie baobao?"
Anya: "No auntie...! Mommy??"
(Suddenly, thunder overheard in the background.)
Anya, shrieking: "Thundeee!!"
Helper: "Yes Anya, thunder."
Anya: "Auntie, baobao please."

While the above conversation gave us a good round of laughter when The Helper shared it with The Husband and I, what I am going to share next evoked a totally different set of emotions in both of us.

Praise God! Last night, Anya successfully slept back in her cot again. However, given that she fell asleep with The Husband keeping vigilance right outside her room within her sight (as a form for compromise), we were almost certain that she would wake up in the middle of the night looking for us. At 3am, we heard her whining. After a minute or so, whining escalated to soft crying which was the signal for one of us to go over. The Husband went to her room, and kept her company for about 10 minutes or so. He came back again when she drifted back to sleep in her cot. Unfortunately, she woke up again at 5am. We lay in our bed listening as she whimpered on and off for a couple of minutes. Then there was absolute silence for a minute or so.

Just when we thought she has drifted back to sleep on her own. Here's what she said, in her clear but piteous voice, "Mommy.. no more. Daddy, no more..."

The Husband and I looked at each other, jaw dropped. We could almost hear each other's heart sinking. With that, she got to sleep in our bed for the rest of the morning.

I think we need to go seek the Wizard of Oz to replace our hearts with steel.

Bath-time!

The Furkid was due for her weekly bath. Given that it is a public holiday and The Husband was at home, we brought both toddler and dog for a walk to the playground before washing the dog.

While walking back home, we were verbally prepping both dog and toddler about their impending baths. Back in the flat, The Husband asked, "Who should I bathe first?".

I replied. "Anya. So that she can go for her nap after that. Then you can take your time with Muff."

And so, we gave Anya her fruit juice then announced, "Anya, it's pompom time! (meaning bath time, in our kiddish dialect language)".

After a few prompts, Anya finished up her juice, passed the cup to The Helper then headed to the entrance of our bedroom's attached bathroom, waiting for one of us to undress her. Strange enough, The Furkid followed her to the bathroom.

Well, you might have guessed what's on The Furkid's mind. You are probably right. Yes, she thought it was her bath-time. Despite repeated dissuasion and coaxing from us that her bath will come after Anya's, The Furkid was at Anya's heels as The Husband led her into the shower cubicle.

With that, bath-time for both kiddos became the highlight event of the day in our little flat. :)

Alter ego of The Furkid

Our furkid is the perfect lapdog. 

She is affectionate, sweet-tempered, endearing and adores us madly. Friends who come over are always surprised by how quiet our dog is. She hardly barks, growls only once in a blue moon when she hears unfamiliar sounds that startles her and never snarl at anyone before. She is hardy which makes us more at ease to know that her body can handle rough play with Anya. 

She welcomes anyone who walks through our door, and never fail to greet them with a toy in her mouth, her tail wagging so hard, it looks really as if she is shaking her butt. Whenever we come home, she always greets us with much enthusiasm and fanfare, following us around the house, shaking her bombom for at least the next good ten minutes.

 She is forever yearning for a pat on the head, or a tummy rub. And more than anything (with the exception of food, of course), she loves to climb onto our lap and sleep there when we are sitting on the couch watching TV or reading the papers.

As you can see, she really loves to be around humans. Even The Helper has grown to like her very much, because she is so affectionate, and so ugly-adorable (I know the last part is subjective). My mom thinks that she is just plain ugly, period. Yes, I was saying, after 3 months with us, The Helper has grown to adore The Furkid much too and we know the feelings are both ways, cos afterall, our dog is such an affectionate dog! Plus the fact that it is The Helper who feeds her breakfast most of the time these days which is a doubly bonus points for anyone who wanna garner adoration from our dog. 

So. Last night, The Husband, Anya and I came home past The Helper's bedtime to find her still awake (usually happens once a week when we attend cell group meeting). Imagine my surprise when I asked her why, she told me, "Oh Mdm, you know, every time you not home and I go to sleep first, Muffin  always comes to my bed and go 'grrrr..... grrrrrrr....!' at me." 

Gasp! Our furkid has a fierce angsty side that we never know exists! I wonder why she does that?

Expanding vocabs

Her vocab has expanded by leaps and bounds since the last time I wrote about it. Of course, like some other toddlers, her pronunciation for some words require some getting used to. It does not help that I am a forgetful mother. So there are times when she says something, and I simply look at her blankly because I cannot remember what it meant.

Here's some 40 odd words that I can recall offhand that she says (Obviously, these are also the words that I do not not remember what it meant when she says it):

Daddy / Mommy / Ah gong - paternal granddad / Ah ma - paternal grandma / Porpor - maternal grandma / Gonggong - maternal granddad / Muffin (ar-fin) / Anya / *Mini bun's name* / Baby / Gorgor - big brother / Gugu- paternal aunt  / Jiejie - big sister / Auntie / Byebye / Bus / Car / Ball / Eeyore / "Booboo" - injury or pain / Thanks (annns) / No / Yes / Eyes / Nose / Mouth / Hair / Ears / Toes / Fingers (gers) / "Poopoo" - to pass motion / Pee / "Pompom" - to bathe / shower / Milk / Juice / Cheese / Bread / Bed / Cot / Socks / Diapers (dappers) / Dummy - pacifier / Go / Bubbles / Eggs / Cat / Amen

At this point, those that she articulates well are mainly still one-worded. Occasionally, she can string two words together, e.g. "Mommy, byebye." or "Juice, thanks.". Unfortunately, that "I lwuff you" remained a one-time incident. Instead, these days, the only 3-syllables thing that she says is... ...

...
... ...
... ... ...
 ... ... ... ...
... ... ... ... ...
... "Pororo!"

(-___-")

A cry in the supermarket

At the supermarket last night:

The Helper and I were selecting fresh produce while The Husband went off with Anya in the trolley to pick up dried goods and dairy products. Just like any other typical weekend evening, the isles are packed with families, many with small children and toddlers like Anya.

I was browsing through the meat selection with The Helper when I heard a shrill wailing cutting through the bustling of the crowd. Immediately, I recognised the voice as my daughter's. "Anya!", I said as The Helper and I pricked our ears, trying to ascertain the direction of her cries.

Even though I knew that The Husband was with her, I was worried. The cry was different from the usual ones. There was extra urgency (or God forbid, pain) to it. A flurry of ominous thoughts were running through my mind. Did she fall off the trolley? Is she badly hurt? Is there blood?

A nano-second later, The Helper pointed out, "Next isle, mdm."

Both of us rushed toward the next isle. There they were, The Husband had Anya in his arms, comforting her while she continued bawling. But there was something that was not right with the picture. Something that threw me into slight confusion. - The expression on The Husband's face conveyed both sympathy and exasperation.

"What happened?", I asked as I rushed up to The Husband's side.

Hearing my voice, Anya's bawl turned into a piteous sob as she threw herself upon me.

The Husband: "I knew she would cry lah! But I had to do it. I let her hold the Yakult. I didn't notice she bit through one bottle. Had to take it away from her."

I scanned through the contents of our trolley, and sure enough, lying on top of the pile was a string of Yakult and the grape-flavoured one had a puncture on the foil. Phew! I heaved a sigh of relief knowing that she was not physically hurt. Slowly, it dawned upon me how funny the situation was.

As I comforted my tod in my arms, I could not help but start giggling. The Huband added, with a sour note in his voice, "And she had to taste the best flavour one somemore!".

Yeah, no wonder she had to cry her eyes out.

Never underestimate the lure of Yakult.

Tribal dance

The Tod has the funniest groove in town.

Well, actually she has two moves. The first is the swaying from side to side to a slower melodious beat. Where a more upbeat song or tune comes along, she quickens her pace, spread her legs outwards and starts stamping around, resembling one of the members of an African tribe doing their rain dance.

Every time she does her fast beat moves, it set us smiling. It is a funny sight to behold. I think I will miss it when she grow out of these cute moves to more sophisticated ones.

Powdered face

From being an sideline observer, Anya now wants to get involved in the action whenever I am prepping myself to go out.

She knows where I keep all my cosmetics and is now tall enough to reach for some of them. On one occasion, we had to change her going-out outfit at the last minute because she had splattered my liquid foundation onto her dress. On the second occasion, she discovered to use of the blusher brush and goes "chu chu chu" as she brushes her face lightly with her eyes closed tentatively. Then on the third occasion, she took off with my blusher without my knowledge Moments later, when she came back into the wardrobe to find me, this was how she looked.. ...

Can you tell that the right side of her face is smeared with patches of sparkly pink? Heh. Too cute.

Conversing with Anya

I am getting more and more fun derived from conversing with Anya these days. At coming to 17 months old, her vocabulary is still limited to a handful. Most of the times, communication from her is still non-verbal or one-word answer. Interestingly, it is sufficed (at least for now) for me to have an insight at what goes on in her little head.

Here is two snippets that are replaying (fortunately or unfortunately, depending how you look at it) almost every day in our lives:

She refuses to call me! - And sometimes her daddy too!
Background: She has been able to call her grandparents, her Daddy and Muffin for sometime now. While she knows "Mommy" means me, she simply refuses to address me.

Me: "Anya, can you say "Mommy"?
Her: "Ahh-ma!" (meaning paternal grandma)
Me: "Anya, who is Mommy?
Her: *points at me*
Me: "Okay, then can you call Mommy?"
Her: "Ahh-ma!"
Me: (Decides to change tact) "Anya, how about Daddy? Can you say Daddy?"
Her: "Deh-ddi!"
(The Husband comes along and join in the conversation)
Me: "Anya, can you call Daddy?"
Her: "Ah-Gong!" (meaning paternal grandfather)
Me: "No, no, no.. You know how to say 'Daddy' right? Can you please call Daddy?"
Her: *a short pause* "Dee.."
The Husband: "Yes, Anya!" (The Husband believes that tonality will help based on our experience on how she could mimick us in callingThe Furkid in high-pitch voice) *In similar dog-calling voice* "Anya, can you call 'MAHHH-MEE'?
Her: "Ar-Fin!" (meaning "Muffin"-Furkid's name)
Me: ( -____-``)
The Husband: "No, Anya. You know Mommy right? *nods in my direction* "Can you say Mahmee?"
Her: "Arrrr-Finn!! Ah-Ma! Ah-gong! Ah-ma!"


She recognises a deal when she sees one
Me: "Honey, it's bath-time. Shall we go take your bath?"
Her: *shakes head vehemently*
Me: "Okay... Or how about we have some orange juice then we go and take your bath?"
Her: *nods her head happily and skippity-hop to her sofa to sit down and await her OJ*
(And yes, most of the time, she will willingly wait outside the bathroom for me to undress her after she finishes her OJ)


This third one, is a one-time off that happened yesterday.
 She is a budding fashionista
Me: *reaching for The Straits' Time's Urban and in exclaimation* "Woohoo! H&M is here!"
Her: "Woohoo~!" *does a little dance*


My baby, this is why I love my job so much. :)

I am a whale

Last night was date night for The Husband and I.

I was decked in a pair of skinny jeggings that I bought on my last Bangkok trip (one size bigger than usual especially for preggy me!) and a grey nursing cum maternity camis from Old Navy. As I was about to leave the house, The Helper came up to me and said, "Mdm, skinny legs!".

Half-flattered and half-concerned if that implies that Mini Bun is not growing enough, I asked, "Tummy?".

"Eh?", my helper hesitated for a while. Then she replied, "Your tummy? Very biggg!". And to further emphasize her point, her eyes widened into two large saucers.

The conversation really should have ended there. It would have left me contented to know that my tummy is big enough to support the pregnancy and yet at the same time, to have my legs still relatively skinny.

Well, it didn't. The Helper added on, "Mdm, you been eating alot!".

Coming from someone who has been pregnant twice, it made me wonder if I have been overeating for this pregnancy. Feeling like a whale now.

At 26 weeks, I have gained 7kgs - same amt of weight gained during my entire first pregnancy

Another online pre-loved bargain

 This was one of Popo's birthday gifts to Anya. These days, she is quite good at it, being able to cut most of the items without our help. Seeing how popular this set of toys has been with her, I thought that it will be a wonderful addition have a toy kitchen set for her.

I have seen how good other creative blogger mummies are with their nimble fingers. With some imagination and pooling of household resources, they could build a make-believe sink &/or oven for their little ones. Well, I think I am not so good at that.

On the other hand, it seems like an extravagance to spend more than a hundred bucks on a toy set just because I think she may like them. Therefore, off to Singapore Motherhood forum's marketplace I went. In the past two weeks, I went into their marketplace's 'To Sell' section whenever I open up my laptop and search for keywords including 'cook', 'kitchen', 'sink' and 'oven'. For days, nothing relevant came up. But with a stroke of luck and some patience, my efforts finally paid off on National Day.

A mommy wanted to sell a good condition toy kitchen. She disclaimed that it was not for fussies but then again, I am not fussy. Neither are toddlers. After some negotiation, we settled for a consideration one-third off its original price-tag.

A few afternoons ago, while Anya was away at her grandparents', I set it up (it was dismantled when we collected it for ease of transportation) after The Helper rinsed it in Dettox. I deliberately hid it in our bedroom as Anya was due for her milk feed and second nap when she arrived home.

Well, it did not go as planned. After I went over to The In-laws and back, pregnancy amnesia struck once again. Without thinking, I instructed Anya to wait outside our master bedroom's bathroom for have her hands washed while I put away her Eeyore first.

The kitchen set easily caught her eyes. Before I could stop her, she had gleefully ran to set and started tinkering with it. So there! For the next 45 minutes or so, The Helper and I could not persuade her to wash her hands, drink her milk nor take her nap. Her attention was totally rapt! Less off the slight exasperation that she was ignoring us, we were actually quite amused that she seemed to know exactly what to do around a kitchen! Looks like someone has been observing us while we are pottering around the stove and sink!

We have moved the toy set to her bedroom since. These days, cooking has somewhat been incorporated into her before-bedtime routine. So yeah, going by how much she likes the cooking set, I'd say this online purchase is more than a bargain! Its a steal! :)

My bad!

One of our inside jokes has been about the way I sleep. The Husband often teased me about my unladylike postures when I'm fast asleep which includes lying face up with one leg crossed over the other while my arms go all the way underneath my pillow.

The other night as I was giving Anya her last milk feed before bedtime, I arranged her legs such that it resembles my infamous sleeping position. It was out of sheer fun and I meant it as a one-time off but somehow, it caught her attention. My impressionable tod probably thought it was a game and was smiling away and giving me sideway glances as she drank her milk. I could tell that she was making effort to balance her leg in that position, and she kept readjusting herself back despite her leg giving way a few times.

These days, The Husband and I find her crossing leg whenever she lies down and for a couple of times, she even tried doing so when sitting upright. I know I'll probably regret it when she is still crossing her leg like an ah beng eighteen years down the road, but right now, those chubby legs look so cute! :P

How kiddos get into trouble and yet get away with it.

Here is an example of how little ones get away with mischief as executed by my tod:

On that fateful Saturday that I was made to reorganise our walk-in wardrobe. The Husband went out for twenty minutes  to pick up something from The In-laws. I was assigned to sort out my cosmetics drawer while keeping an eye on Anya.

To keep her occupied and close to me, I gave her a couple of my bracelets to play with. She willingly stayed under my nose in the wardrobe, looping the bracelets in and out of her wrists, studying herself in front of the mirror while I set to work on throwing out some dubious-looking long expired cosmetics. I must have been concentrating hard at those darn cosmetics that I did not even realize that Anya had wandered off to other parts of the house.

I was roused to check on her by the rustling sound of plastic bag. I walked out of the wardrobe, back into master bedroom and was greeted by this sight.. ...

Yes, my innocent-looking tod sitting on the platform with two conjoined buns in her hand, with her widen eyes staring with sheer bliss at her newfound treasure.

She must have saw the leftover buns from breakfast on the dining table and reached for them. As you can see, when I saw her, the buns were already out its plastic bag and firmly in her hands. When I asked for the buns back from her, she shook her head vehemently, screeching in protest. I was debating whether or not to try on a sterner voice but decided to give in, for she looked so adorable with those ridiculously big buns in her little hands, joy apparent on her face.

Pleased with her find

Laughing with us when I narrated what happened to The Husband who came back

I used to read / hear anecdotes on how children get away with mischief by looking oh-so melt-your-hearts cute/silly/innocent and now here I am, getting first hand experience. Not that I am complaining. With reference back to that Saturday morning, The Husband and I were still smiling fondly as we sweep away the crumbs that she left behind on the floor and our bed after that. Seems like we are not going to make good disciplinarians any time soon.