Salam Lebaran

For various reasons, we celebrated Syawal in mediocrity. I was more excited for the babies, buying them colour-coordinated dresses/shoes/ribbons and preparing the older one for the hustle and bustle of Eid.

We organised ourselves promptly this year- haircuts, spring cleaning, laundry and ironing were all completed a week before actual day.. nothing was left to the last minute. After all, I have risen to the ranks of Commander in Chief and my efficient Indonesian helper got my house AND Mum's house sorted without the headache and the tantrums of yesteryears. Money can buy happiness after all..

The ongoing baby boom for the Ariffin family is still in full swing with the addition of Aqil and Sofia, bringing the bub/tot total to 5 during the Day 2 visiting. Which really meant.. none of us were capable of meaningful conversations, with every minute punctuated by a cry or a scream.

Only she was the quietest..

Bugger off, I need my beauty rest.

But then she's only 4 months... give her time.

And with the coming of some, we mourned the going of others.

Puteh Bte Abdullah passed away peacefully today, 3rd Syawal. She with the pale skin and ash white hair... she with the bubbly personality and humourous self-deprecating manner, I liked her warm maternal ways from the first time we met. We managed to kiss her hand for the last time yesterday as she lay weakly in bed, looking unlike the robust grandaunt she was last year. As I introduced Sofia to her with a "Nek, ni anak Hafidz nombor dua", she squinted in her half-blindness in awe and wonder and held Sofia's soft, tiny hands, not wanting to let go even though a long line of family was forming behind us awaiting their turns to pay their respects.

Please sedekah Al-fateha in her name.

The End, The Beginning and The MD

4 days to The End.

The End of a state of bliss- of not having to worry about wearing a watch (in fact, where the heck is my wrist watch?!), of not having to set the alarm clock each night, of not having to iron work clothes or clean out my handbag... of not having to rush each morning, of not having to blowdry my hair or wear any makeup, of not having to cuss and swear at morning traffic and best of all, of not being obliged to answer/reply text/ return calls on my mobile (in fact, where IS my mobile?? oh here it is..)

The End spells The Beginning of all things maddening, rushing and nerve-wrecking.

In the meantime, I am weaning Sofia from breast to bottle. Dr Spock says to allow 2 weeks for the gradual weaning but time is not on our side, dear girl, as Mr Managing Director has asked Mummy to begin work 2 weeks earlier than scheduled.

Like a true unconverted, she gets offended when the bottle is popped into her mouth and will cry ever so lustily. Hrrrr... I wonder if I should work half days to begin with, something to ask The MD.

Gone too soon.

"What??" I yell into my phone over the din at the Geylang Bazaar, straining to hear Azie, my cousin's voice, hoping I heard her wrong the first time.

"Kak Norli! She has passed away a few hours ago.." she yells back causing my blood to curl.

..and my mind takes me back to the hospital room where my eldest aunt lay on her deathbed. My 38 year old cousin, Norli, and I sitting on the floor near the door amongst crying aunties, praying uncles and sad-faced cousins and we whisper about my aunt's rich life and that of ours.

Norli shared with me the problems with her marriage and her health issues, peppered with sound advise and a joke or two in between. All I recall was her resigned face when she admitted she could never have children because of polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCO) complicated by diabetes, high blood pressure and a weak heart. But oh how accepting she was of her fate from the many things she mentioned to cheer herself up despite her predicament. And I admired her strength and resolve set in that once-chubby, now-sunken face.

We share the same root problem- she & I. We both are PCO sufferers but I was able to conceive, against all odds. Her untimely death spells the end of her bloodline, her only children are stepkids from her husband's first marriage. As I thanked my cousin and hung up the phone, I looked... really looked... at my 2 girls- Arissa all sweaty and happy in the hot tent of the bazaar, swinging her blinking light stick and holding on to her bigger-than-life giraffe balloon and Sofia, wide awake at 11pm but quietly observing me from her pram- and for the first time in a looong time I whispered a prayer of thanks to God for giving these 2 to me.

God knows I've been whinging so much about how exhausting it had been trying to handle 2 kids alone but I could never imagine a life without them. I really don't want a life where I didn't have Sofia nuzzling my neck when she's sleepy or Arissa hugging me each night like a bolster as she sighs herself contentedly to sleep. Could I be happier if I didn't have to run after a buck-naked and happily screaming Arissa to get her into a diaper or have a bawling Sofia quieten down immediately as I cuddle her and put her to the breast..? As much as I craved my independance, their dependance on me is suddenly shoved under a totally different light- a beautiful, warm, golden light.

Even in her death, I can hear her whisper sensibly in my ear to appreciate all that life has given me because God knows, you'll always be gone too soon. May you rest in peace dear cousin and I thank you for rubbing off some of that strength and resolve on me. Inna lillahi wa inna Illaihi raji'un- To God we belong and to Him we shall return.

Desperate Housewife

Maybe I'm just not made of enough Mummy Mettle.. 3 weeks flying solo with 2 kids and I do believe I'd be less stressed being at work.

I've run out ideas on what to do to fill up Arissa's hours at home and I clench my teeth each time I turn around and see her glued to the telly. Hell, I even feed her in front of the telly just because she eats without protesting much when her attention is fixed on Dibo or Mickey or whatever's on. And that, ladies and gentlemen, makes my life e/a/s/i/e/r so I let her be. Sue me.

On top of having to cook family meals, I also juggle..
vacuuming
mopping
wiping surfaces with Dettol
showering both kids
laundry
folding laundry
keeping clothes in closet
serving food
washing dishes
...need I bore you with more?

On the occasions when I actually have some time to attend to Arissa one-on-one, out comes the marker pens and crayons..


Yes this is how she colours... in spots..


..and a little bit of drawing (me) and copying (her). She's only perfected her circles and lines, anything squarish or trianglish stumps her still.

And the perfect subject is still her fight club buddy- Rifqi, looking a little rough around the edges but oh-so-exhilarating to Mummy who NEVER knew she had the artistic hand (ok, not my gene!).


Next comes alphabet time.. though she still lines them up like a train.


The thing Mummy garnered from this exercise is the realisation that Arissa recognises her alphabets. Yea, yea.. so not the As from the Cs from the Ss (only X and B so far)... but she actually actually knows which way is up for each letter (except W and f and the divide sign). Haha!!

Not bad for a Playgroup dropout!

Oh and on top of the 1002 chores I need to attend to, No1 on my list is mediating between a bully and her 2 month old 'victim'.

Somewhere close..

A short break from life's bump & grind..












@ Aranda Country Club.

Tough as nails

Its been almost a month since my last entry, and a case of 'reality bites' it has been for us.

Let's see now...where do I start?

How about having to watch Sofia go through 2 hospital stays because Arissa kept passing viruses to her- first a cough that resulted in bronchilitis, then a week later a viral fever that peaked at 39.7deg.




I broke down many times at the hospital seeing such a tiny person being suctioned, loaded with drugs and pricked with needles. If not for the support of family and friends, I would have plunged into PND unavoidably.

The decision to pull the plug on daycare was made during the 2nd hospital stay, based on Sofia's paediatrician's recommendation. It hurt at first until I found out there are 34 other kids in her Playgroup and then I was just M-A-D; no bloody wonder she kept getting sick. It was a tougher decision because I had moved back home and now had to juggle 2 kids on my own with no help.

I waged a war against Oren, our beloved tabby. He just had to go, again I was acting on paediatrician's advise that his dander and fur can cause asthma development in an infant. Many a fights ensued with Hafidz about Oren's future but he's now safely placed with an aunt who herself has 6 other cats living in her terrace so I'm sure he'll be happy to have buddies (both Hafidz and Oren).

Then a few other phonecalls were made to a relative working in a maid agency and before I knew it, we've signed away another few grand to acquire more headache with dealing with a FDW. But help I do need especially now that Arissa is home 24/7 with me and I'm damned near losing my mind. I've resorted to many tricks that puts many parents to shame. To get her to behave I've allowed her to

a) watch Playhouse Disney the whole day
b) eat M&Ms for breakfast
c) threatened to give all her toys to the neighbours
d) spanked her countlessly
e) stuck her in the store room for all of 2 seconds

Hafidz says e) counts as child abuse- does it?!

1 month & counting

Sofia's safely crossed the 30 day mark, she's just about 4kg now but it hasn't been as smooth-sailing as I would have preferred, unfortunately.

There was the jaundice scare, when her paediatrician almost checked her in for phototherapy. Three weeks and 3 blood tests later, her bilirubin level is down to normal and she's returned to a healthy colour. All the while, I kept her on exclusive breastmilk which did not exacerbate the condition proving once again the goodness of b*milk. :)

And then, the flu bug struck- causing low grade fever, stuffy nose and a whole lotta coughing and gagging. The whole household is down with flu- from Mum & Dad to Arissa- so anyone could have passed it on to her. Since she's too young to be given any heavy-duty medication, Dr Vella prescribed nosedrops and Rhinathiol Plain for her phlegm. We were told to monitor her for RSV virus, which can cause serious damage to infants 0 to 6 months. To be honest, I don't really know what to look out for other than worsening of flu-like symptoms and difficulty breathing.

So for the moment, we haven't been getting much? any? sleep. She wants to be cuddled all the time and sleep better in a semi-upright position.


I get snatches of snooze throughout the day when bub sleeps but poor hubby has developed panda-eyes, I suppose we can consider them to be medals of fatherhood..? As for me, I'm voluntarily confining myself to another 14 days at mum's casa in spite of all my whining and whinging.. you can consider that signs of senility.

What's in a name?

Natasha Hulya.

The name flashed in my mind like a neon sign last night at 4am whilst I was semi-conscious and feeding Sofia. It was a name I had wanted for my future daughter... back when I was 14? 15? It was a name inspired by a Turkish girl whom I met on the sea crossing from the mountain resort of Ankara to Istanbul. I found a picture of her recently whilst spring cleaning my old room, which was probably what prompted the random recall.

As with my life, a lot of things that happen are like intended coincidences- some purely satirical, others simply strange.

My daughter is actually named, in part, not after a Turkish girl but after a Turkish historical site- the St Sophia (Hagia Sophia) which is a beautiful Byzantine basilica/church, turned mosque, turned historical museum in the city of Eastern Istanbul. In fact, Sufia means just that in Arabic- "beautiful".

Inside is a marriage of Christianity and Islam, a reflection of the great Byzantine and Ottoman empires.. *do you see a painting of Jesus Christ between the Islamic scribes?

(http://www.sacred-destinations.com/turkey/istanbul-hagia-sophia.htm)

Visiting that place invoked an awakening in me about how I was tied to this great civilisation and should probably know some of its history well. But back then, all I remember was how breath-taking it was being within its walls, a lot like those Roman churches in Angels & Demons (which incidentally was the last movie I watched a day before giving birth to Sofia).

Sara was my mother's idea. She who is the first wife of Prophet Ibrahim- the prophet who restored the Kaabah to its current glory. Whose footprints I chanced to see during one of my Umrah excursions with Mum & Dad.

But the names I truly like best are universal ones- they carry multiple meanings in various languages.

The girl's name Sarah \s(a)-rah\ is pronounced SARE-ah. It is of Hebrew origin, and its meaning is "princess". Biblical: originally called Sarai, Sarah shared an adventurous nomadic life with her husband Abraham. She is described as being exceptionally beautiful even into her older years.

The girl's name Sophia \s(o)-phia\ is pronounced so-FEE-ah. It is of Greek origin, and its meaning is "wisdom". Used in English-speaking countries since the 17th century. The famous Istanbul mosque Hagia Sofia was once a Christian church.

It occurs to me in the wee hours of yesterday morning how intricately pieces of my life are linked together without me intending it.

****

Whilst still on the topic of baby names, here's a hearty congratulations to Heidi and Manu... their long-awaited firstborn is finally here. Tino & Sofia share the same EDD- 30 Jun 09- so I was anticipating having Heidi as a roomie at TMC. I really should ask her what Tino means as Kai has various meanings:

"Rejoice" in Finnish
"Keeper" in Scandinavian
"Beautiful" in South African
"Ocean" in Hawaiian
"Forgiveness" in Japanese

Tino Kai Seth, 3.3kg popped out on 22 Jun 09, I guess the tips on inducing labour worked after all! *teehehehe*

An Idiot's Guide to: jaundice & jamu

Sofia's 1-week newborn review was up and I went back to our trusty Dr Vella at Singapore Baby & Child Clinic at AMK.

In spite of being cleared of jaundice on check-out day at TMC, she went from rosy to slightly yellow on Day 4. She gradually became more and more yellow and by Day 5 was looking much like a member of The Simpsons family. Even the morning sunbathes did little good. We hurriedly took her to Dr Vella who sent us straight to a Diagnostics lab for a blood test.

Here're some facts about jaundice, as explained to me like An Idiot's Guide by Dr Vella:

1) Bilirubin level should stay below 12. Anything more than 14 requires phototherapy (i.e. hospitalisation). Sofia's test results came back as 209. Divide that by 18 and her score is a borderline 11.6.

2) Jaundice peaks between Day 5 and Day 7 after which bub's liver begins to function well enough to steer her/him clear of danger.

3) Mother/Bub blood type plays a role. I am A+, Sofia and Arissa are B+, "not too bad a combination, I would be more worried if you were an O", says Dr Vella.

4) Traditional Indonesian jamu could trigger jaundice so I need to stop all that I am taking for at least a month.

5) Breastmilk could worsen jaundice so Sofia will be mainly on formula for the next 2 days. (Urgh, I thought my engorgement days are over!)

Then of course there are differing opinions about 4) and 5). My masseuse tells me one of her patients was asked NOT to stop breastfeeding by her baby's paediatrician..

Speaking of masseuse, this one is a whole lot better than the last one I had. She's thorough and has magical fingers, her package comes with the variety of jamu (herbs) from Mustika Ratu. In fact, she's MR-certified, being fully-trained by an Indonesian ibu.

I was so impressed by the packaging!

These 2 herbs are amazing. I was never a full believer of traditional therapy but I swear by these 2 tablets for breastfeeding mums. In the early days of breastfeeding Arissa, I remember having to pump for 20mins on each breast to harvest a measly total supply of 20ml. With the help of these tablets, I managed to pump out 75ml yesterday from one, yes just ONE!, breast- I was well and truly shocked! (maybe the $700 Medela breastpump had something to do with it too! All I had was a $99 Avent manual one last time..)

The best part of the post-natal massage is the bengkung or belly wrap, artistically tied from a long piece of cotton cloth, meant to deflate that jiggly, bulging post-partum tummy. Oh how I dreaded wearing a wrap as it usually leaves me hot and itchy all day long but this one has no wiggle room and is incredibly comfortable that I wear it for most parts of the day as it keeps my posture upright and slouch-free. Goodbye backaches!!

If anyone is interested, my masseuse's name is kak Siti and her number is 96541203. The only downside is she has many customers (pre-natal, post-natal, fertility treatments, weight-loss treatments...) so appointment times may vary from day to day. Her 7-day comprehensive package starts from S$500, depending on location.

D-day

Once again, Lawrence Ang proved his worth. After looking me over on 10 June at 5pm, he appeared disconcerted and wanted me to check into hospital by 8pm the same night. By then, of course, I was just SOOOOO looking forward to giving birth and ending all the 3rd trimester discomforts I was having.

When we left his office at 6pm, I started getting mild contractions which became 3mins apart by 7pm. I was in so much pain but forced myself to eat some dinner before leaving for fear of having no energy through labour. Arissa saw Mummy grimacing and sat on the bed by me, shoving spoons of rice into my mouth and telling me "Mummy must eat wokay?" while the husband gets ready for the night.

Here I am at 8.45pm in the labour ward still calm and coherent, falsely thinking "Hey, the 2nd time ain't that bad"- hah:


9pm Lawrence announces I am 4cm dilated then proceeds to break my water bag. At which point the contractions just hit me like a growing tsunami until it was practically one on top of the other. I tried surviving on gas alone but was begging for pethidine at some point. By the time it was administered, I had almost graduated into the pushing stage, rendering it redundant. The side effects- nausea and numbness- came afterwards and I was confined to my bed overnight.

930pm Baby is down the birth canal ready to be delivered but Lawrence is attending to another patient down the hall. The attending nurse puts her fingers in to stop baby from travelling much further down but her head is almost crowning and the pain was unbearable!!! Husband was gone the whole time I was in labour, he said he was at Delifrance grabbing dinner, thinking the drama would take sometime to unfold- wtf. By the time he got back, the nurses had gone into hysterics paging for Dr Ang yelling that I'm "in stress".

935pm Lawrence appears like Superman and I'm told I can start pushing. 3 pushes later followed by some blood-curdling screaming at the end and we have the latest edition to our little family who arrived promptly at 943pm, looking exactly like her sister. What a sense of deja vu for me.


We had spent an indecent amount of money at Toys R Us to get Big Sis presents supposedly from the Little Sis. It was advice well dispensed and money well spent.



Mum and Bub #2 are both resting at my Mother's house until the end of the confinement period. A little sunbathing to keep the jaundice at bay:


Please say hello to Sara Sofia Abdul Hafidz, 2.77kg at birth:

Suck it in.

It all started with a busy busy Saturday where Arissa & I attended 2 birthday parties- one in Marine Parade for Anish and the other in Woodlands for Alya.

I was so pooped by the end of the day my feet swelled up badly and I started waddling like Barney.

Yesterday's checkup revealed that I am 2cm dilated at 36 weeks (read: I'm already in early stages of labour- GAaAaH!) and baby is low, very low. Doctor Ang has given me some Salbutamol to help relax the womb and told me to take it easy. In no uncertain terms, he is basically telling me to hold it in for another week so that bub is not pre-term. Fidza tells me she was dilated 1cm at 35 weeks during her 2nd pregnancy so it is a normal occurence apparently. Strangely enough, bub is not engaged.. her head is near my right kidney but to that Lawrence has said that 2nd babies engage only at the last minute, unlike the 1st.

Thanks to my new diet regime (only good ole milk after midnight, if hungry), bub is only 2.6kg now. Which really means with 1 week to go, I can start binging again- muahahaha!

Beef rendang pie from Joo Chiat Road, good good good!

A kaftan's not the most glamourous of apparel but when you're big enough to balance a plate on your belly, its the most comfy! :p

I'm taking this time off to get the newborn stuff laundered and aired and sunned- ..take it easy, what's that when you don't have a maid!

Note to self: Finish that online FWD course asap!

All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go

Last night, we tried (again. unsucessfully.) to drill into Arissa the fact that Mummy needs to be away from her for a night or two to have adik, I really need to be left alone to recuperate after going through labour and most likely an epsiotomy (owwww!), thank you very much.

I let her help me pack my overnight bag and we even put her bolster in the receiving blankie and pretended it was her adik.


She cuddled it for all of 15 seconds before getting annoyed... as the conversation goes:

Me: Sha.. nanti Mummy's belly will become sakit and I will say "Aduh sakit! sakit!" and Mummy will have to take ambulance to go to the hospital (she associates ambulances with sick people) and the nice Doctor will help Mummy take adik out of my perut ok? You sleep with Daddy at home when Mummy's in hospital ok?

A: Taaaaaaaaaaaa-nak! I wan go opital wif Mummy.

Hrrrr... chialat.

****

But before that...

...we spent Friday evening frolicking in the sun. Unfortunately, I didn't foresee this East Coast stop so hadn't packed the necessary essentials, we were on the way to Sanah's after looking for a playpen for bub #2...

Home Stretch

I'm now on a fortnightly visit to the gynae... the home stretch. Just the thought of labour gives me the chills, maybe because I know how horrid the pain is but what goes in must come out.... right? ;p

Its been great sharing this pregnancy with so many other co-workers- Jacintha, my accounts assistant; Emeria, BBC client; Beng Seng, my studio technician; Johno, my Director. From time to time, we conduct an impromptu 'pregnancy conference' (as Elaine calls it) along the hallway to catch up with each other's progress.

I had my last monthly appointment with Lawrence last week, I was all of 53.5kg (the normal non-pregnant weight of someone my height) but the following conversation left me feeling... well, unsettled:

Dr Ang: Looks like you need to control your diet.
Me: You mean eat more?
Dr Ang: No I mean eat less.
Me: !?huh!? I hadn't gained anything..
Dr Ang: You see, the baby is already 2.4kg and you're only 33 weeks.. think all that you're eating is going straight to her, which is good for her but I'm afraid you may have trouble pushing later on.
Me: *jaw drops* 2.4kg!?!?!? (That was Arissa's weight at 36 weeks)

But by virtue of having the thin gene, I have never had to 'control my diet' and I find it impossible NOT to eat when I'm feeling famished. I continued to devour high-sugar, high-carbo, high-protein food at ungodly hours of the night. (The husband is to be blamed for this! He brings home pratas and fried rice and chocolates to tempt me.)

So it looks like this will be my last binge at Straits Kitchen, courtesy of the Godma Sapna. Followed by a little bit of priming and primping at the nail spa next door- what a treat, thank you ladies! Good food, great company... can't ask for more before my 40-day self-imposed 'imprisonment'.

Mind your language

Just a little update on Arissa's academic progress..

I love the fact that she is loving school these days. True she wakes up in the morning usually grumpy, stating matter-of-factly "I dowan to go khool, I tired" but when we get there, she waves me goodbye and rushes off to see her friends.

I think her best friend is an Egyptian girl, part of an identical triplet, named Amira as her name keeps coming up in our conversations. When I ask Arissa how her day went she will reply in part-gibberish, part-broken English, part-Malay about how Amira was naughty today or how Amira was crying today or how Amira and her played "colour colour" today. I do wonder how she manages to pick out Amira from the other two as they all look exactly alike with big solemn eyes and soft wispy light brown curls.

She has learnt to recognise an alphabet. I say AN alphabet as she is still unable to distinguish As from Bs from Cs, in spite of the flashcards (ok, ok I just started them)- but she always always would pick out an X triumphantly and proclaim loudly "Aksh!". I'm spending more time with her at the magnetic board in the hope of moulding a future Little Einstein ("This is big A, this is little a") but all she wants to do is to arrange the alphabets so it looks like a long train "See? Dis Thomas and flens..." she would then proudly say.

The great thing about daycare, I must admit despite my initial reservations about letting her spend so much time away from grandparents in the daytime, is that the kids are so independant at such an early age. I no longer need to feed Arissa, I just give her a spoon and bowl and she feeds herself (up to a point where she gets half-full that is, then I have to continue feeding her). I'm also only needed to put on her diapers, after which she demands I allow her to dress herself. Its a real blessing especially now that my belly is huge, rendering me a tad immobile. The only thing left to do is to fully toilet train her.. but I will leave that to after giving birth. Just the thought of having to mop up those accident spots induces braxton-hicks contractions.

The only annoying thing about school is her adoption of Singlish... phrases like "Finish oleady" or "Mummy aaaah" just annoys me to no end. Izzah says I'm acting all ya-ya papaya as Singlish is after all part of the Singaporean culture as much as NTUC Childcare is.... haiyah I know that la but there's the 'correct' Singlish and then there's simply the pasar-malam annoying version. Sure sure, Hafidz and I are just as guilty for regularly using suffices like 'lah' and 'isit' when we speak to her, or using mixed languages to communicate our point e.g. "Let's mandi".

Maybe its better we start minding our language first?

Arissa's first haircut @ the hairdressers with Abam Kiki

Road rage

Ever woken up on the wrong side of bed and feel like bashing someone's head in? Someone.. anyone will do...? Well, think twice cos it may end up being a police case especially if you cross the wrong person.

I was happily enjoying my Mozart on the drive to work when this impatient Camry behind me kept honking for me to make a U-turn when there is fast-moving oncoming traffic. Sorry buddy, I thought, I'm in front and if I get into an accident it isn't on your insurance so just bloody wait. But wait this fella could not and he overtook me at the U-turn junction and made a hasty (and dangerous) turn, despite being honked and high-beamed by oncoming traffic. He's still stuck in the yellow box anyway and threw me dirty looks for a full minute to which I raised my hand to signal What is your problem?

Mr I-didn't-get-it-last-night opened his door and started banging on my car window, yelling vulgarities at my mockery of him. He then went back into his car, cussing along the way, and pulled over on the left to wait for me to pass so he can follow me into my building. He waited until I had parked the car, continued to give me dirty looks over his wife's shoulder, before driving away.

He may be having a bad day but I'm in no mood to let his road rage pass, so I called building security as well as the police. And now this is a police case on his head, serves him well and right. I hope he gets slapped with a big fat fine.

Strangely enough I cannot find any useful article on the issue from SPF or the Driving Centres although there are many on individual's experiences with them. How is the line drawn between road bullies and uncouth drivers? When is it appropriate to get the police involved?

Lady drivers, know your rights (thanks Zack, the ex-policeman, who gave me a rundown of what constitutes a road bully, I was paying half attention that day over prata but it came in useful today!

1) Most importantly is that the driver a) gets out of his car, b) comes over and c) threatens you physically or verbally, that makes him a road bully in the eye of the law.

2) Do not get out of your car, lock your doors and windows but turn on your phone camera and film him threatening you. This serves as evidence to the cops if you've no eye witness (which usually is the case as no one else is arsed to get involved and your passenger may be viewed as biased) but bullies usually back off from fear of being implicated (or get even more violent).

3) Take down his license plate and report immediately to the police.

4) If the going gets rough and you're alone and/or being followed, get help from a nearby police post or building security.

Stay safe ladies and give those bullies what they deserve- a bad driving record.

Last lap

Whoa, 28 weeks and counting down!

The usual round of 3rd trimester ailments have surfaced- breathlessness, general fatigue, short-temper (from the lethargy?), needing to pee every 2 minutes, feeling like a hungry hungry hippo always, waddling, back pain... but because this is my 2nd pregnancy there is also this pressure 'there' as though the baby could pop out with the teeniest push. My gynae convinced me that its normal with the 2nd pregnancy as the muscles down south were not as hydraulic as once before (incontinence here I come!). The 20th week fetal scan revealed that my placenta is 'slightly low lying' but after an ultrasound, we realise that there is no risk of placenta preavia and I can do the deed normally. Thank god!

This month's checkup was to discuss my birthplan- as mentioned before Lawrence Ang is a natural delivery advocator so the word epidural is frowned upon. "You did it before, the pain is still the same unfortunately but you're well prepared to face it", he campaigns on.

He did say though that 2nd babies come out faster than the 1st and prepared me mentally to expect a fast and furious labour (hell, I'm not complaining! That 7 hour active labour where I bled all the way through is still fresh in my mind). Key word here, much like the Singapore Army motto, is Be Prepared.

Bub is weighing all of 1.3kg, quite a shocker as she was only 700g last month. This put her a good 200g above the average 28 week old bubs. I put on a measly 1.4kg even with all that milk and durians and dessert! How bloody pathetic.. I'm 4kg behind in my 28th week (compared to the 1st pregnancy where I was 48.5kg at this stage). BTW I love this development chart: http://www.babycenter.com/average-fetal-length-weight-chart

She's almost in an engaged position- head down with legs right under my right ribs which takes the blow for most of her tickles and kicks. She's just as active as Arissa, just the other day I went to bed in spite of her kicks and was again awoken by it at 3am! Hafidz & I have yet to name our little friend here, we can't find a name we can both agree on- typical eh!

And to add on to the list of new friends for our little nameless bub, congratulations to these new parents:

Yani & Amzhar
3.2kg Aqil Armani

Nana & Ogy
2.8kg Adrianny


Yani's take on labour pains was "I could only stand it for an hour!! Then I was begging for epidural.. hehehehe" Will have pictures of my little nephew uploaded soon..

xx