Eat, drink and be married!

This was us last week, watching over the poor boy who started coughing in his sleep and then spotting a fever of 38 degrees. He slept the whole of the first day after being diagnosed with an inflamed throat and missed dinner, super unusual for his greedy self. Skipped his shower even and continued napping. When the doctor asked us what we fed him to get sucha inflamed throat, I was so puzzled. He was on homecooked food and his food was mainly slowcooked and baked very occasionally.


Second day, I checked his throat and discovered a carpet of ulcers. Got him diagnosed for herpangina and bam! There goes the whole week of school and child care leave to take. The crankiness peaked on day 3 when he could neither eat nor drink and every time he attempted, he would stick his fingers in and wail non stop. :(


Herpangina is a variant of HFMD and it's usually detected through mouth ulcers and a fever. No blisters are sighted.


If he could he wanted to be hugged all day long and sigh, what I would do to make you feel better. The 4 day ordeal was horrifying with the rude looking ulcers flaring up and he refused almost all his favourite food - watching him cry was no joke. And all the time he didn't want to be confined at home triggering off unreasonable tantrums and never ending teary high octane screeching episodes.


Finally, the day came where he took milk from the bottle without wincing and even asked for more.


Herpangina 0, Cyrus 1. We won this battle of herpangina. Fingers crossed.


I wish I can offer any form of advice apart from wishing for the best and offering as much liquids as possible - I was syringing him milk at some point, 5ml at a time. :( The usual icecream and jelly did not work its magic as it did for HFMD. I'd say this herpangina is a curse and I detest it way more than HFMD.

Like all eager beaver parents, we signed him up for Heguru at a grand old age of 1 year old. Here's how it went for us, there were no trials to test and it was upfront signing up of a term and wham you swim or float or drown. (OK, not so serious since it was parent accompanied).




It is no secret that there is no hard selling, they know it works and is effective hence the whole "you know it's good since you are here" attitude. So fine, without a clue how a proper lesson in Singapore is conducted, we signed up for a term.


After 10 months with them, we called it quits.




60 minutes of flashcards, songs, games




It is intense. As an adult, I could barely catch up and I expected my 1 year old to. What an irony, if anything the fidgety little one was engaged enough at the start. And what more he was able to get some of those questions right so that kept our interest high.




Teachers matter, for the kid


In a span of 10 months he had a change in teachers and friends and I saw a noticeable change. He was less engaged in class somehow and I tried enquiring about his favourite teacher's class.


So then, with this declined interest came my dwindling interest in enrolling him for yet another term.


Right brain training until 3


Sure there is a lot of theory about this, theoretically the brain absorbs the most from 0-3 and beyond that? They have classes till 12...I mean really? At that age when the golden age is over, it still benefits?


Different outlets, different management styles


Under this franchise, there are two different groups governing this and they are managed quite differently. We went to the group under Mr Kuah Eng Liang, came with a briefing session and no deposit required, neither did we have to attend a "counseling" session to dissuade us from withdrawing Cyrus from the classes. It was rather fuss free and thank god for that, I cannot handle dramatic farewells.


I'm sure we benefited somehow from these 10 months and gave the programme enough faith I feel...he can complete iroita puzzles when he feels like it, has a pretty good memory yet whether or not it can be directly attributed to Heguru remains a big question and unless you're going to sit down with your child all the time to revise and reinforce then really, it really is just another enrichment class to check off the list.


Honestly, we could revisit this a year or two later but for now, we are quite done with Heguru.

 

 Thank you for making me a Mom and until you think getting sloppy kisses from your Mom is uncool...:) Let me just enjoy these moments.

Mother's day came and went and in true fashion...it was just chaotic.

645am He headbutted off the bed and landed with my pregnancy pillow cushioning his fall and the husband literally leapt out of bed and I barely woke up.

730am The bub attempted to gouge the Hubba's eyes and yank my hair out. I finally woke up to my second mother's day.



9am For the first time in yonks we arrived on time for service, sunday school and made it in time for my cake pickup at 1045am. Oh gosh, the precision really in planning all these appointments.

11am On time for Mother's Day Brunch...hooray!

1230pm Cyrus was relatively well behaved for most part of the brunch until....the last packet of quinoa and beet snacks was empty. I'm thankful I had 75 minutes to digest lunch.

330pm Nap up and the bub was ready to burn all of his energy and mine. We played toddler bowling, sorted pasta and lego before it was time to prep to dinner!

6pm Mother's day dinner and it was definitely not complete without drama. The helper put the ice bag into the car without the cake. HURHUR.


   

So back home we went to sing songs as if it's our birthday and it's time to eat cake! He had his first taste of chiffon...and he LOVED IT.

That kinda of wrapped up my Mother's Day with three cards. Two from Cyrus and one from the Hubba, three dresses and another celebration to add to my memory bank. 

I chanced upon this really interesting toy whilst taobao surfing and got it carted out almost immediately. Then came assembly, who should do it? HAHAHA. The default has always been the Hubba and I decided to unlock the achievement.







There, finally assembled though it took me a fair bit of figuring out how.







And it entertained him for a good two days until battery ran out. I'd not forget the glee in his eyes, the little dance he did when the animals went on autopilot around the circuit.


To more achievement unlocked!

Our plans to visit the gardens for the umpteenth time was canned because of sakuras which got everyone too excited. So...we ended up at a public playground to let Cyrus burn off some energy.


And this happened, two girls politely asked if they could play with him. Of course, I agreed...and they took such good care of him, I was reminded...how children before they get tainted with the prejudices and biasedness of the world, can be so innocent.


A motherhood statement? Hardly.


I saw how they had so much fun, a 20.5 month old, 8 and 10 year old respectively under the watchful eyes of their parents...and it's that comfortable distance we shared.


Stay little...for that weebit longer, please?

One day late and...happy belated wedding anniversary to the Hubba. With a child in tow, the focus of this blog has shifted to all on the bub and sometimes I forget why this blog was even started. Four years and I absentmindedly thought it was 8. HAHA.

It has not been an easy 4 years, we struggled, fought, had our fair share of disappointments, teary episodes and then...we all emerge a little stronger.

Nobody ever said marriage was easy work, and it wasn't mean to be. It's strange almost how I have forgotten most of my own vow yet I remember part of his - to make me laugh, cry and laugh more than I cry. And well...he did live out that promise and to many more of these annoying years..!

Looking back on our wedding day highlights...I cannot help but muse...we were all skinnier, younger looking and...thought marriage was just the next chapter. :)

With the Parents Curriculum Tea Session happening at the end of the week, I started the week hoping very hard the crying bouts would be weaned by this week. Talk about expectations huh.






Day 11: Moving onto extended day?

He sensed we were going with the routine of dropping off bag in the cubbyhole, place his waterbottle in the basket and then head out for play. He started raising his hands to be carried and whining before wailing. His Chinese teacher came over to take him to breakfast table and despite the whole dramatic "MAAAMAAAA" with arms outreached and tears spewing out, he settled rather quickly.


Thank GOD for a tamchiak child.


On a separate note, we are considering shifting him to extended and full day soon - onward to more normalcy in life!








Day 12: Finally another teacher that he is familiar with


I had my reservations when I was told he loved one particular teacher and she had to devote her attention on him, no other child could be near her and the crying would ensue if she was not within eye shot.


Today I saw for myself how he took to yet another teacher from his class, phew! At least he won't hate school if the other quits or for some reason joins another class.








Day 13: Disrupted sleep and a grouchy pickle


He napped and slept poorly the day before hence we had a super duper very grouchy pickle on our hands. The slightest irritation got him tantrum-y and really, this reminded me why we put him in school in the first place. (Shift of responsibilities dealing with the cranky haha!).


He cried in the car seat, refused to be placed down in school, adamantly did not want to place his water bottle in the basket and then was clingy at breakfast table (almost dropped his French toast) and...starting wailing before the toast made it into his mouth.


I heard him yelling but nooooo turning back. In less than a minute later, the waterworks stopped and erm, he was actually having his second breakfast happily. I sense some emotional blackmail going on in the little mind of his.






Day 14: The first no-tears drop off


I was somewhat expecting that he as graduating out of his teary goodbyes especially when his water works lasted all but a minute. He was hesitant to go over to laoshi but food is always sucha a huge temptation and in no time, he was carried off and I swear I almost did a fist pump - AT LAST.




Day 15: Byebye mama!


For formality's sake, at 81 weeks all in, we did not have a fluke when he was dropped off without a tear and he managed to wave goodbye. I am glad we are making progress and at his own pace I am glad he is enjoying school.


With a tear in my eye, I heaved a sigh of relief we crossed our first milestone in school - dropping off without tears. My baby is...no longer a crybaby. These entire 15 days taught me one thing: I am definitely not ready nor prepared to revisit this entire crying business again if we ever need to change schools. Ah, intertia.


And it was how aptly the same day that I received a call from his teacher with plans to extend his half day to extended and finally full day. We discussed in length all the possibilities and how we'd go about executing it and that, I am really thankful there are such good teachers around. While I do not have any for comparison, this is what makes choosing the preschool/kindergarten/childcare so important because these important people make their first years so fundamental.


We received his first two week report and we're thrilled he is enjoying school. No rejection of the uniform or the initial resistance towards teachers changing his diaper...baby steps!

The hubba claims he was otherwise, yet the in laws sing a different tune.




Well, jokes aside...I knew we were getting ourselves into some teary and messy affair - it's juts normal toddler behavior when they cannot verbalise their unhappiness otherwise apart from really crying.




And we had loads of it.




Day 4 - The jab screwed things up for us. We were late, they went into assembly (cues panic because he's not encountered it before). Clung like a koala and cried for his dear life.


Day 5 - Damn the weekend, the dropoff was expectedly tough. Plus, no familiar favourite teacher.


Day 6 - Another group of new faces at play area for dropoff. He ran towards us and was picked up by a strange face. Cues a good 30-45 minute wailfest. The only time he settled down was when his teacher appeared.


Did we say the crying will stop, soon?


Day 7 - The heartless drop off continues. I walked off without looking back and I heard the wailing become sobs and kept my fingers and toes crossed I will not get a call.


Turns out apart from the morning fiasco, he was actually ok for the rest of the day and it was only on Day 8 did we realize it's because they offered him breakfast (TWO portions! and he already had breakfast at home) to placate him. Sigh, this boy, food is the root of all evil and good here.


FIRST taste of raisins and emo mama wish I were there to see him partake of the forbidden sweet fruit.


Day 9 and the same clinginess, refusal to be put down or left alone. He knew what was going to happen, with his faced scrunched up and one hand holding his wholemeal toast but he remembered to bawl so loudly.


By the time the car drove past the dining area 5 minutes later, he was barely sobbing and still munching his toast whilst laoshi carried him around.  WHEW.


Second week down...and when things are looking up, it's time for weekend and then the terrible bout of Monday blues.

And I speak as if he is 18.




18 months, that is. We knew from the start he needed to start some form of routine and school searching started really early for us. At some point, infant care was considered and that's how I embarked on this search for THE school.




Depending on which part of the island you stay in, starting early never hurts. In some cases, waitlists are years' long and some end up graduating without ever getting a place in the first choice childcare/kindergarten. Well fact is, kindergarten only starts at 3 years old, anything prior is play group.




We had a checklist in mind and after some hemming hawing and calculations, we signed up for his first school when he was a year old.




First day jitters




Yes me. More than C who probably had no clue what the fuss anyway. We collected his uniforms, got them tagged and when I finally packed his school bag, reality sunk in. My baby is going to school, this 2nd January onwards...every single year will be a school year.




Half day first for us, we wanted thing slower and more manageable than to already culture shock him with friends, teachers and having to take a nap in a foreign surrounding.




We took the effort to tell him more things about school a week prior, and then last minute hug Buddha leg by teaching him his Chinese name (ahhaha, sorry son, we decided to enroll you in a Chinese immersion class when we don't speak much at home).




I like the fact that the school had an orientation session for us parents, sent us communications before school started. However, I wish I was given the chance to bring him in a week earlier just to orientate but I do understand insurance and indemnities and all.




It was a 100% accompaniment on the first day where he explored his new classroom, loved the toys and food (Cheese sandwich! and Miso soup!). I would have cringed at even serving him miso soup but...school being school, close both eyes.




The first day went well except for the slight resistance to diaper changing by the teacher (I really cannot fault him here since all along it's been family who's been doing that honours, and suddenly a stranger!).




My pee break was nervewrecking because he ran after me, almost had a melt down and well was a sign of things to come.




Second day...more tears!




I discussed this with the teachers prior on my plans and we both agreed that I should transit him since we only had 3 days. He was left with the teachers for 2 hours and I'd return when lunch was over. Save for a few sudden realizations that I wasn't there, he was mostly distractible - phew!


And then the mother of all meltdowns at diaper changing again.



Thank god I wasn't there to see him cry - else I'd have cried along with him!




Third day - are we ready?




By fluke or not, he was dropped off without a tear...had so much fun he didn't want to return. Got his clothes and diaper changed without fuss and we almost felt that we could just transit to full day within the month.




Four days into it, I can only pray after the weekend we don't have that many tears to deal with come next week.




So there, our first week done and dusted.

We paid a visit to Pororo Park without an idea who Pororo was, apart from the fact it is a penguin. This would resonate better with fans but I was there just to check out what they had.





The only indoor playground to date with a train ride included in the ticket price, well one can go on it continuously and only for older kids.





Cyrus had a ball of time at the supermart, and that peanut which he insisted on bringing everywhere within the compound.





There were two slides in the area for older kids, a ball pit and sand pit which had no age limit and a toddler's area. Rather limiting, if you ask me.





The said toddler's area, as pathetic as it looked was actually a hit.





At least the toys were rather new!





Taking pictures to justify our attendance at the park!





One of us was clearly more thrilled than the other. See what I mean by he loved the corn and peanut toy?





Hooray to free rides, if he could, he'd probably go on it for eternity.







We missed the mascot show but just had to snap a photo for the album!


What I liked?


I liked how different this playground was from the rest, it was a mini theme park and even for me as an adult, I was intrigued.


What I didn't?


Well...it was an enjoyable experience but the prices are on the higher side for the space area that was for play.


What's next?


We will be back for sure and this time, I'd make sure we are well educated about Pororo!

I'm a sucker for memories, anything that helps me hold onto them a weebit longer and...since scrapbooking is not in my blood...I turned to photobooking! No sponsorships involved, just one very satisfied customer.












365 days worth of, that reduced me to quite a sobbing mess. Tears of joy actually, to finally come to terms with the fact that my baby is no longer a newborn, and the toddler he is today.












And the same day I received the photobook, he whatsapped me  a string of letters and even snapped a picture of the ceiling and sent it to me. Haha, nonsensical but how precious!

I'm actually not sure how this should begin and I'm penning this just for memory's sake...


Many many years ago when I was around 3 or 4 and in kindergarten, we were all made to write a letter to a child far away (well to me back then, anywhere out of Singapore is far away) and I remember it was a cancer-stricken child. My teacher told us to write him some well wishes and draw something for him to cheer him up. I have forgotten what I wrote and obviously have no recollection what I sent him but it stuck in my memory. That there are sick children and not everyone's childhood is happy.






I'm not sure what prompted me to respond to this snapshot shared in one of my mummy group chats and I thought - why not send a parcel on behalf of Cyrus. I mean someday I will share all the snaps with him and the stories behind them.




I hope it brings some cheer to A, a very courageous little fighter who's bestowed with so much love. Our paths may never cross but you have taught me as an adult even that courage does not come with age.




I'm not sure how his parents feel about bringing him home for his last days, it aches even typing this. It was very odd trying to buy an appropriate card and thankfully for Christmas, there are such pretty and cute cards for this occasion.






xx

Okay, so I had this in my draft folder since he was a month old. Goodness me what procrastination does and with so many friends around me popping I thought I would revive it and publish it so...you know, it'd help someone at least!












And here's a throw back shot of him at 1 month, boy I miss those days!




I can't believe how many of these things I have given out during the full month celebrations I have attended much to the chagrin of the couple until I had my own. Never too late I suppose?

This entry was written way before the horrific news of a lactating mom made to expose her boob to unnerving immigration officers to prove she was indeed nursing when her breast pump was deemed suspicious. And clearly I am getting as much backlog as I can out of the way! Sorry if I'm rambling because...too little time and too much effort embedding the pictures!



I've not travelled out of Asia to test the security systems and so far, the officers have been very kind. Truth be told, I was seething when I read the article. And it turns out, there are many ill educated people on the topic of breast feedings.



Just thought I could just sum up what I've read in the responses, 

1) Breastfeeding moms pump to regularize the supply. How does being engorged for a full 10 hours feel when you're on long haul flight? Fill two plastic bags full of water, strap them on your chest and then turn on the lie detector machine too. It throbs, can hurt and in worst cases, cause migraines. 
2) Who ever says that you need to have devices attached to you all the time? If anything, its the shells that are used or breast pads to collect leaking milk.
3) It isn't always about "fresh milk". If breast milk always has to be consumed fresh, the almost common sense question to ask is - do you drink from the nipples of the cow?



****



Before giving birth, I knew I had to make up for all the lost time spent being stuck without a holiday. And so I did with 3 trips planned once Speckie was born. What I did not take into account was - what if I were still breastfeeding?



Somehow, somewhere, somewhat...things will sort itself out.



I had plans to pump during the trip, freeze my milk and transport them back. Sounds good on writing? Here goes what went into bringing them back safe and hopefully sound. 



The pre-flight prep work



This sounds like a mammoth task already but the truth is, it is! Before my first trip I consulted my mommy group and forums how to tackle this task.

Daiso is godsent for cheap supplies and with every priced at $2 I did not feel the pinch bagging a styrofoam box, ice gels and a plastic container.



Declare at customs



I find declaring before scanning a useful tip, at least it saves me the trouble of being picked up by the scanner, unzipping and having the team examine the contents. With the exception of one particular officer who gave a disgusted face, the process has been smooth.



Pump on the plane



It was only after my first trip that I explored the idea of pumping at the airport rather than at home before the flight.



I would expect Changi Airport to have an abundance of nursing room considering how many children and parents traipse through it during holiday peak season. Turns out, it depends which Terminal you are at.



Terminal 1 has just 3 and 2 were occupied leaving me with 45 minutes before my flight and me hoping against all odds the last remaining nursing room would be available. I literally ran to it (coming from one who'd not usually run for a flight even) and was sorely disappointed with it. Granted all I needed was a space to pump but this was not very well maintained with a constant stream of stall owners and diners coming in to gargle their mouths after food or washing of utensils and even utilising the hot water dispenser for making of cup noodles. Some did not even have the decency to rinse the sink of their disposed cup noodle contents.



Pumping on the plane was a whole new challenging ball game on its own. Cathay Pacific flatly refused me when I requested for my Fridge To Go to be placed in the chiller citing policy as a reason. I did not bother trying with SQ. Picking a seat right at the back of the air craft saw a constant stream of people pacing up and down the toilets and after a while I pumped away under cover.



During the holiday



It was during my trips that I dragged my pump times, ended up with porn star cleavage, soaked through my breast pads and still ended up with higher supply. Vacations do wonders I must add, somehow being physically away helps with the milk supply though not necessarily with the mental state.



Storage



Believe it or not, not every international hotel chain's hotel room has a decent fridge. By means of decent means cold enough to chill milk (18 degrees). I shall not name names here but I ended up storing in their staff fridge before, made do with an ice bucket filled with ice to bring down the fridge's temperature and even panicked when the milk did not freeze properly.



Transport them home like a champ! 



Finally time came for the trip to end and the milk to be transported like delicate cargo.

My first attempt with a styrofoam box, enough duct tape to make a mummy and ice gel packs was not cold enough for all packets to remain frozen.



The second and third were alot better - so they say, practise does makes perfect! I used my cooler bags instead, padded them with ice gels, sealed my milk bags in a ziplog and further wrapped them with aluminium foil. Sounds like a hassle? But bringing them home still frozen is *fist pump* a very shiok feeling.



The only hurdle to cross is, what if I need to fly for more than 10 hours?

If you've been following me on this breastfeeding journey, you'd know how I struggled and then got emotional trying to wean and...finally did.








I timed it in a manner that I would drop yet another pump and had my fingers crossed on Auntie Flo not reporting yet but the day I woke up with flaccid boobs I knew the end was near. Fair enough, the supply dipped a ridiculous low and suddenly, I did now know what to do with the additional time.


Previous pump times went as long as an hour and I was down to less than half. The time that I once had and lost and now regained, was a strange possession.








And as if he knew, as we increased his formula feeds he started fussing when breastmilk was fed. Sigh I know baby boy, formula tastes better right?


Slowly but surely, the journey was closing in on me as I watched the last storage of frozen liquid gold disappear. I guess that gave me ample time to be mentally prepared to resume the life I yearned so much to have in the last 15 months.






I said my goodbyes to the flanges and pump 1.5 weeks prior to completely stopping, I was down to hand expressing amounts that I started out with and finally closed this chapter called breastfeeding.


It is strange how reluctant I am, actually. Was it the calories burnt? Or the duty that I placed on myself that I was the food source for my son and then no more?






15 months later and I snapped this picture of posterity's sake. Thank you for the hard work my dear boobs and hello more free time.




P.S. It is just double whammy my supply decided to take a further nosedive days before my targeted end date. So yes, we parted quite un-amicably.


P.P.S. I dumped a total of 2.5 feeds when the fridge also bailed out on me. I was an emo nemo you bet.

I made the decision to be a Stay At Home Mom (SAHM) and a conscious one indeed, for an entire week. To think I even canned any holiday plans (but really, air ticket prices just did not justify a trip)...and so with bated breaths I begun my stint as a SAHM.










Stop counting the minutes








Try as I did during the week not to be obsessed with keeping to schedules. I have a 14.5 month old on my hands who probably is so curious about the world and I wish at times he were still that 3 month old who'd take naps as I wish and not move like a hurricane.






To the point, he actually skipped his morning nap and fell asleep in class. I felt bad for him when we pushed the envelopes and had to deal with a super cranky and tired toddler.












Doing things together






I took more videos, snapped more pictures....and just watched him.






I am guilty of always carrying my handphone or camera wherever I go and to the extent that I lose out watching those moments live. Sounds ridiculous but the struggle of freezing these memories and witnessing them live without capturing, is real. So real that I question...which is really more important.













Pull the grass? Touch the ground? Be the kid. That one week taught me not to be so uptight, over the dirt, the sweat and almost everything else that makes me want to bubblewrap him. I let him sit on the porch, pull the grass in our garden and then those gate grilles...baby steps? And then I realized how all these tiny things made him happy - yet none of them cost a cent.














Play, play....PLAY










Children's biennale, indoor playgrounds (a ton of them!), library and even the public playground! I used to be very anal about public playgrounds and really if I allowed the OCD in me to intervene, I could be lunatic enough to sanitize the playground.













So we covered all of that - the way his eyes sparkled at the exhibits, went on for 2 whole hours playing and climbing all over and shaking his booty during the programme for todds at the library and even getting all excited being at the public playground. I wish I videoed all of that down but I realized how happy he became just playing.










I ended up making toys out of the things we had at home, including making a choo choo train out of the toy box on wheels and a cushion. Surprise is me when he ranks this as favouritest toy in the house, considering how he hardly loves any toys longer than a day?












There is still a huge admiration for moms who chose to be stay home mums and let us not forget that choosing to work is also a choice. Driven by choice and circumstances, there is no right or wrong decision, only what's best for our sanity and children.











My emotional bank account was definitely brimming by end the week, weary and somewhat frazzled from dealing with him 8 full days. I was ready to head back to work.

It's hilarious how I'd even think of writing an entry just to address this. Breastfeeding is tough, much less glamorous than it is and taught me so much about myself than I ever imagined. Sounds like a self discovery journey already.

I was actually alot tougher than I thought I'd be

Until now I salute the moms who wake up to pump, after six months I considered my duty done and quit the midnight sessions. It was although very therapeutic and the outputs are actually higher but for my sanity and not to quicken ageing, I chose sleep.

What relationship if baby wasn't even latching?

A friend spoke of the intimate relationship she had with baby during their latching sessions and I could only imagine. C latched beautifully from day one and I thanked my lucky stars that he was sucha chomper which made those sessions so convenient but the day came when he despised them - preferring the faster flowing teats to what was potentially our bond.


No latching and I became an exclusively pumping moo.

I could have gotten obsessed with the idea of breast is best along the way, sitting up to an hour per session and tried all ways and means to get the supply  up and up and there's honestly a limit to one's output.

Drop pumps = Drop in volume

I couldn't accept that. From 6 pumps to 5 and 4, the output remained the same and I thought as long as I pumped long enough it would be status quo.

Apparently not when I dropped to 3.

It was horribly emotional and I let that eat me up.

I was less off just because I had to rely on my frozen stash.
I was less off just because I didn't meet the desired amount.
I was less off.
Full stop.

For moms who dropped pumps happily and even looked forward to the day they can hang up their flanges, I was just not one of them.

So why the breakup?

I was emotional about breastfeeding, introducing formula, keeping up with my ideal outputs, travelling and pumping, dropping pumps and finally this. In short, for as long as I have been pumping, I have been emotional.

I don't ever know if there can be a state of being overly emotional but it probably reached a point where I was planning my day around my schedules and it sounds almost ridiculous. So no appointments are made around the time I am scheduled to pump.

Honestly, on hindsight I cannot believe how many teary episodes I've had thinking of weaning even (not even putting those words into action) and there are moments I wish I wasn't so stubborn about this promise to myself even. Did it become a personal challenge and a measure of my worth even? 

So long, farewell slowly (pun intended)

Until the day I finally bid my trusted pump farewell, I am taking it slower. There have been memories that I will not forget this lifetime and I'm not sure when and if we will be acquainted again. If there's one lesson learnt, it's about "fed is best, not necessarily breast."

I don't think anyone can prepare yourself fully for the journey, I went for prenatal classes, stocked up the necessary vitamin (fenugreek) and medicine boosters (motilium for starters), suffered from constipation from too many pills I was popping, ate as much fish in a month as I did in a lifetime and ended up with engorgement, hated durians but ate them anyway because they are my booster, I had a case of bruised and clogged nipples, refused antibiotics just because it would affect my supply (I cried so many times when I had to because of some horrible virus attack). And then what's next?

It is a personal choice and a huge sacrifice, and to all mothers, we are already great on our own, breastfeeders or not.

14 months and counting, and someday when the body feels enough is enough, I will hang up my flanges.

This entry was timed to go out nearing his big ONE and last week, ST ran an article on parents splashing on such celebrations. For sure there will be opposing camps and views to how much should be spent on this special milestone and in response, this is my take. :)

Where do we start on this since it's supposed to be a Onederful One and it sets the tone for all future birthdays. I remember frowning upon the idea of babies not having a first bash to commemorate their first years and think that these parents are just giam siap.

(Sorry to the friend for using his cake for this post even!)

The unnecessary invitees

I think these grate on me more than I think they do. What usually starts out to be a cosy gathering ends up more often than not, a bash of some sorts with attendees that weren't intended in the first place. Friends of, cousins of...and the list goes on. I've had my wedding attended by a friend's friend just "because he had nowhere to go." so you get the drift.

What I hated about having a full month even

I'd like to wave this off and say never again. The crazy amount of effort going to so many places getting stuff - helium tank, trays of soon kueh and ang ku kueh...and doing set  up an hour before the party and having guests arrive earlier is nervewrecking to say the least. Did he remember? Of course not. Were we knackered? You bet.

So why do it again?  

And of course watching the people around me sweat it out from the weeks before the party to the week before, the day before and actual day...I am just not ready to go through all that again. 


The trade off

So then private affair it shall be with the close ones and enough birthday cake that the bub will remember the day for. Plus he gets to taste cake! Maybe he will or will not lament about not having any of those fondant cakes bigger than him in future but I hope he knows we love him all the same and birthdays aren't just about showing the whole world he is getting a year older.

What did I trade it off for?

A family shoot, DIY cake smash shoot (which I'm hoping against all odds will turn out fine...!), an excursion and family dinner. Well most importantly, we are taking it easy and enjoying this special one year of being parents...being chill.

The snap warms my heart, each of us received a woven crucifix including a baby one too. And it was just Palm Sunday and the church so thoughtfully gave out woven crucifixes to commemorate the sunday before Easter and in the past it included a procession of faithful followers of Jesus carrying palms as he rode into Jerusalem.