Sunday, 17 May 2015

Bring In The Glitters & Glam!

*shudders*

 


The moment that I long dread has finally come, complete with shockin' pink fluffy gagging tiara shiny glittery glam shazaaam that sparkly poofy magic wand right through my heart. 

Recently she asked me how come I don't put on make up like her grandma does. I said I don't like things clogging my face. She frowns. I warned her, no make up for you till you are 21 ok! I caught her playing with the brushes, lipstick and powder from my mom's make up bag though. 

I have been in denial and been dressing the kid androgynously because hey, I can't stand the Barbie-ness and hey, I don't like her to be mainstream and hey, princesses and divas sucks ok and hey, I want to give her a "don't mess with me, boys" outlook due to my unfortunate past experience on abuse that led me to be overprotective of my girl. (wow that was  a mouthful)

Each time we enter the clothing department, I would head straight to the boys section for the berms and t-shirts and be very selective on the girls clothing. Each time we enter a toy store, I would recommend her (forcefully shoved them under her nose that is) toys that I deem appropriate fine to my eyes (no barbies, no pinky minky stuff...you catch my drift)


i swear i did not dress her up like this. she came back excited to show me what her grandma bought for her. she saw me frowning and she said "you must like my dress ok" 

Ok fine, so that's MY personal opinion right? I wouldn't like it if people shove their preferences and opinions down my larynx right? But at the same time, for as long as I am paying for her clothes and toys, I have the last say. Hahahaha *cackles evilly*

The husband said I am not being nice. She is after all a girl. She deserves her girly-girl moment no matter how cringing and sore eye much it will cause me.

siiigh ok fiiiine.

 

Even after all those deviations and controls over preferences; she still wants to be a princess. She prefers tutu skirts over her denim shorts or jeans. She prefers her Hello Kitty over the Led Zeppelin tops. (although I purposely will defend myself with an "oops I brought the wrong clothes! no choice babe, you gotta wear these" when she pulled her pouts and tantrums because she's not in a girly attire)

So i think it's cute I caught her playing nails with the husband one day. 

I consoled myself. Let her be a girl, let her grow up, let her experiment...under my very watchful eyes that is because I say so wahawhhwahaw.







Saturday, 16 May 2015

Tell Me The Bad Stuff

I don't want to sit down and hear how perfect motherhood has been for you. I don't want to see your pretty picture of your well behaved, easy baby.  I have seen millions painted photos of how awesome motherhood is. I don't want all those.

Tell me the bad part. You know the one where you cry at night out of exasperation and breaking down from exhaustion. Tell me you tear that supermom cape of yours. Tell me how hopeless and helpless you feel rocking a crying child the entire day with no rest. Tell me about how you don't feel your best; being puked at and peed at after a new change of clothings and decided to just sleep in them. Tell me how you feel like a failure handling your kids alone. Tell me the part where you have evil intention. Tell me how you struggled with those whispers and images about harming yourself; your little one. Tell me how you begged each time on the prayer mat, praying for your sanity and safety of your children...from monster you.

Tell me I am not the only one. Please.

Friday, 15 May 2015

Breastauranting In A Hijab

I am still struggling (read: hijab mishap occurs like getting the kid entangled in the shawl while he tries to swat his way out with his tiny hands) to breastfeed while in hijab, i had moment of oopsies aka nipple slip. The Little Man doesn't seem to like the idea of nursing cover so I had to use the hijab as replacement cover. 

I used to lack the haya (shyness) department back then. I would just flip out the boob although discreetly but yea boob was out.  Now that I am covered up,  I believe more judgmental eyes roam hence I need to be extra careful when I nurse in public. Yey for nursing rooms to the rescue!

Thank god for big shawls. I believe in wearing sports bras instead of nursing bras because I find it easier and faster to just flip the twins out. A pair of singlet is worn underneath to prevent any skin showing just like how I did it with his sister.

Having a 2nd child doesn't make me a pro. There's a lot that I forgotten. I threw the parenting how to manual 4 years ago so I need to re-learn everything all over again. 

So here we go again. I can do this.

boobfeed at nursing room 
boobfeed at starbucks. don't judge, mcjudgeys!

at the back of the women prayer hall in ansar

more episodes of nursing room to the rescue

besides some storage area at ansar

yea my shoes are nice ok bahaha

swensons nursing time

while his aby and big sister D were on the carousel in USS, we boobfeed

at changi airport nursing room










Thursday, 14 May 2015

The Great Chai Chee Workout

0331hours: Guys, I have said it before I will say it now, no joke man handling another bub at my dinosaur age. This ancient mom has whatever that is left of her energy to work it.  I think I would probably go bonkers if not for my mom helping me out. Both grand-kids are totally clingy with their Nenek. It's like magic when she carries them and they seem calm and composed but when I handled them it's as if I just gave them a good whacking from the way they wailed. Hmpff.



ps: I am typing this after settling diaper wars and cries.

0506hours: Just finished settling the little man's diapers and feeding. I think I squirted milk all over his face and got him went crazy crying non stop. Sorry buddy, Umi is totally sleepwalking through all these bro.

0628hours: We interrupt you with clumsy me spilling my expressed milk. Urghhh!!! Annoyaaance level 10000! Yes i am awake after my subuh prayers and my bazookas decided to leak through my PJs hence sleep-expressing the precious bag of gold when I did this. Whyyyyy. Don't cry over spilt milk?! I'm pissed over precious spilled milk yo!


I haven't been blogging because:

1. Busy being crazy

2. I need sleep man. Sleep over blogging during my free period helloooo. Ok i lied, what is sleep when you have pending chores haunting me. You should so check out the mess of a house I have.


urm thanks for helping with the laundry folding kids?


3. I have this pile of laundry that seem to keep on multiplying when i stopped folding them a few days ago (because I went on strike) straight after getting them out of the dryer. They are like gremlins man. 


4. I have mummy brains and it caused me writer's block so i decided to type out timeline of the day as well as what happened 2 weeks ago.

Updates: I lost 8kg, weighing at 61kg, i still need 7kg to go to pre-pregnancy weight. My little man is at 4.88kg. We are still struggling with the first born vying for attention and from me turning into a mother hulk most of the time. 

In the midst of being husbandless that 2 weeks, (He had since flew off to the Philippines 2 nights ago. It's like we were just re-adjusting to having him back home and now we have to once again adjust to a missing Aby. O' wells, motherhood life goes on) 

I managed to activate the boy's CDA account, 
this young lady accompanied me to get her brother's bank account done. oh pardon tzi tudung mishap. tsk. 

...sent him to get his passport photo done (more like trying to keep him not to struggle much while getting his photo taken), then went to collect his passport at the ever so crowded ICA, 




...went for his 1 month jab at the polyclinic, well you know struggling with a bag and a cranky bub while juggling with running to and fro the doc's clinic and holding down his chicken thighs for the jab


...then we went to the kid's FIRST school performance. Adorable aplenty ok.




AND a lunch date catch up with girlfriends! Needed this badly. Finally, a proper interaction with adult human beings yey!


And of course many other errands and grocery shopping done.


This is cliche and repeated but I swear I am so lethargic and gets so achy easily. Woes of an old mom yall! But plus point is I get to go on date dates with my girl! Precious time spent.

I miss that one on one session with the kid.



0645: OK i need to snooze a little. I'm getting sleepy again. zzz

0715: righto. I'm up after settling a heavy poo-pie diaper boy and putting him back to sleep. He's always the first in the morning to get his bath. Now I'm wide awake even though my body screams for more sleep.

Mom is up making breakfast. 

I am typing this with one eye open. Onwards with my unfinished laundry folding business!

0808 - 1300hours: The kid is up. Usually after this, it's all madness. Please insert battle to feed her, bathe her, clothe her to school, sending her out of the door. All tantrum battles. Some days she will be all sugary cotton candy sweet, most days she will invoke hell upon the house. I kid you not.

Sometimes either mom or me will send her to school depending on the level of hell she gave us. Today was a good day so we decided to take a stroll together to send her to school, pre-empting and playing cheerleader along the way.





one of the many methods to woo her to school

1310 - 1330hours: Took turns to do our Zuhur prayers and then another battle continues. That is sending her to her classroom. She clawed onto my body, clung on my neck messing up my hijab whilst at it, screaming not to go. Had to peel her off me to hand her over to her teachers. Kissed a bawling kid and rush off.

Between 1330 - 1730hours: Sleep where art thou!?? Ended up going grocery shopping, forever endless laundry or cleaning the house which looks like a disaster area hours later. 

Oh gee another bed-sheet into the washing machine it goes. Kid just projectile vomit onto me and messed up the bed. 

Change kid and then he decided to pee on me. Off with my newly changed clothes!

1715 - 1900hours: Strolled to the mosque to fetch the kid. Pretty excited to see me. Everything seem happy and dandy that is until dinner and then she refused to change out of uniform. Another battle of screaming, tantrum child ensues. Insert flying chairs, slamming doors, kid on the floor banging her fist and more screams of "go aways" and "i don't want yous" me trying my best not to flying kick child to the wall. I kid of course but this is the mother of all test on me that is, not to lose my temper. Breathe Erda breathe.

1930 - 2200hours: It seems the kids are playing tag team on let's test the patience of the adults and see how far they will not break yey. The little man decided to test his lung powers by bawling and cries non stop till he goes red. Boob boob, change diapers, stand under the ceiling fan, lay him on tummy, back massage, more massages, run from bedroom to living room to bedroom, quiet time, switch lights off, tell the big sister not to make so much noise, more runnings, sitting on the exercise ball and bouced ourselves silly, more screamings. Mom took over and little man went radio silent. Gee thanks kiddo.

2230hours: Both kids to lalaland. I finally ate my dinner. Sometimes I don't eat at all. 

After all these madness, I am drained out and exhausted beyond god knows what.

0003hours: I should sleep right? I'm wide awake. *groans*





Well i hope to lose 100kg from all these colorful activities. thank you kids, make it happen!

love, umi

Wednesday, 13 May 2015

Happy Mother, Twice Interrupted Day To Me!

Last week, after sending the kids to the pediatrician, (Little Man caught the phlegmy chesty cough from his sister and was vomitting a hell lot after each feeding soooo here we go for his first doctor's visit and hellooo crazy waiting time of infinity and beyond at the clinic. Like hello!? 4 hours hellooo!? End rant)


while grocery shopping, this lady at the check out counter asked the husband if he would like to get me the wifey, a mother a stalk of rose for mother's day. He replied with no my wife is not a flower person. Wah i think i went a little berserk. How can i not deserve a flower even if i am not a flower person! *insert dramatic emotional hormonal tears here*

That evening he went out to run a couple of errands for his trip and came back with a cake.

"I couldn't find flowers so I got you cake"

Awwhhh!! *wipes tears of happines and motherly joy*

Thank you for not pissing off a mother on Mother's Day my love. Wo ai ni back atcha. 

Ahhaha 

oh cos i was not properly dressed so it seemed as if i am halo'd and oh hello endless pile of laundry in the background.