1 so soon!

Happy birthday to you..

Happy birthday to youuuuuu..

Happy birthday to Adelia..

Haaaaappy birth-daaaaayyyy tooooo youuuuu.. (*nah..amik kau, selalu bully aku kan!)

xoxo,
Kakak H-A-N-A Aritha & Aunty Shabanah

Locomotion

I've finally pulled out my old bible and wiped off the 3 year old dust sitting on it. The pages are brown with age with dog ears randomly placed (I hate bookmarks, keep losing them). Its really my toilet read, just about the only time I have to myself in the house. Baby's Month by Month Development is an all-time favourite, it allows me precious insights into the magical world of babies and why they do the cutest things they do, when they will do the cutest things they do and how to react to the cutest things they do. One can never be too much of a pro at mothering...

Month 7:
Still hates the bottle/formula milk- I have no idea which it is. Even the award-winning Tommy Tipee bottle failed the ultimate test... Her line of defense was to either:

a) chew on the teat
b) spit out the milk
c) let it dribble down her chin
d) shut her lips tight

Arrrghhhhh...........!

When I'm home especially on the weekends, she can survive on what little b*milk I have left until Sunday evening when I get a little bit of relief- the sight of her sucking down a full bottle of Similac formula is enough to make me weep with sheer joy.

But what little formula she takes, she compensates with solids. A little breakkie of cereal in the morning, followed by porridge at lunch and dinner and snacks in between. I'm not sure this is ideal, according to my 'bible' she needs at least 270ml of milk daily and I am certain I'm not producing THAT much.

This month we saw a spurt of large motor development. Which really means she went from 'Baby Relaks' (as Hafidz's cousin calls her) to 'Baby Wiggle'. Overnight, she developed a continuous urge to stretch /twist /turn /lurch so much so I now put her on the floor with Arissa where she will grab /bite /claw /pinch at the toys. I was most afraid that Big Sis would get annoyed and wrestle/push/punch /jotos her but worry I need not. Arissa is so in love with Baby Wiggle that she readily gives her a little trinket from her treasure trove, followed by a little show of affection- a pinch on the cheeks and baby talk "Aaaaaadiiiik... pweeeeeetty girl".

She hasn't started crawling properly, its a cross between creeping and lurching but yesterday she got on her knees and pushed off to a jumpy start...





But for Big Sis who has a pair of the well-padded, well-coordinated legs, its time to take the art of locomotion a step further. I suddenly realised I hadn't gotten her anything for her 3rd birthday yet so off we traipsied into Toys R Us, on an adrenaline-infused adventure.

Should I get this little tech thingamajig for my birthday...?


...or this too-cool-for-school trike...?

The secret to staying young is..

...to live honestly...

...eat slowly...





...and lie about your age.


[or at least get a rejuvenating massage so you feel a lot younger on your birthday, @ Estebel Spa].

Happy '25th' birthday nyet! *lolz*

Big girls don't cry

I remember my first day in Kindergarten.

In those days, no one has heard of Nursery or Playgroup or any of that nonsense. Us kids, we start school at 5 years old when our parents (my grandmother in my case, Mum was a teacher and couldn't take annual leave on the first day of school- duh) put us into a fugly checked uniform and tell us we're going to 'K-wan' at the nearest 'P-A-P'. I don't know what that means but I got a new water bottle and shoes to go with the uniform and its all looking good.

Lalalala.. we stroll along like any other afternoon walks. The sun is shining and we pass by an empty playground. "Nanti balik boleh main kat playground ok?", my grandmother assures me.

I hold on to her hands and skip along, feeling very excited to be in 'K-wan', Mum told me I would have nice friends and a lot of fun things to do. We turn round a corner and I stop in my tracks. No nice friends here, I am faced with a congregation of Brylcreamed children, all crying, some hysterical. They're all desperately clinging to their respective guardians. The teachers are yelling and sweaty from trying to exercise crowd control. I start to panic a little bit but my Tok Mak pats me and mutters words of assurances which I do not hear over the din.

We're all hearded into chambers that resemble a little more than a mortuary with alphabet stickers on the walls and small orange tables and chairs set in clusters. Fun is a foreign concept in this classroom it seems!

I feel a mounting claustrophobia at this point, that I would be abandoned in this whitewashed room with its glaring flourescent overheads, and would never see my Tok Mak & Tok Bak, my parents and smelly brother and cat- Bobby- anymore. My life had officially ended.

I join in the howling of my friends who had magnetically attached themselves to walls underneath the louvre windows holding onto the hands of their loved ones. But the witches pull us away one by one and close the shutters with a finality that makes us howl louder. In our mutinous state, we crying children cling to each other for comfort, each feeding off the other's panic.

By then, I had made up my mind to hate school, especially this one with its smelly and mean teachers. With its colourless walls and disinfectant odour. How long do I have to put up with this torture!!?

Sidenote: I put up with a decade of official schooling + 2 years in college + 3 years in uni + 1 year in postgrad + 2 years in Masters. Not bad for someone who started off so badly eh! *masuk bakul angkat sendiri, actually I was putting off going to work* But then, Mum had transferred me to a more fun school called Zion Kindergarten so kudos to them for instilling a sense of lifelong learning in their charges. :)

***

And because I remember all too well the (bad) experience of a first day at school, I prepared Arissa well in advance for her transition into school- by talking to her about the new school, taking her there during orientation and helping her make friends with the other children. We spoke about her school bus and her teachers and her newfound friends at length to whip up the excitement of going back to school.

I don't know if she remembers what was spoken (at 4, I sure as hell didn't) but little did I know, she was so ready to go back to school I had zero problems on Day 1. I didn't realise how much she yearned to be with friends her age.. even the solo bus ride did not daunt her.

When I got there, she ran over to me excitedly "Kakak tak nangis tau, Kakak dah big girl!". She's positively looking forward to 'Skola Masjid' every day!

No Sun in Sunway Lagoon..

Hi everyone,

This is H-A-N-A A-W-I-TH-A, apologies for the lisp I still can't pronounce my Rs and Ss properly. Mummy has enrolled me in a phonics class though, so hopefully my tongue catches up soon.

We've just gotten back from KL where we spent 2 nights in Sunway Lagoon, 2 nights in Vistana Hotel and another night in Kakak Batrisya's house. It was a fantastic holiday but all that moving meant Mummy & bibik had to keep packing & unpacking. She says that's the NOT SO FUN part.

Anyhow, here're some pictures from Sunway Lagoon:






















Mummy got Adik T-O-F-I-A into the pool too and she loved it! Mummy says she is a waterbaby just like me, way back when!!




Brrr.. this water is c-o-l-d!


















We got out of the pool when it started to rain heavily and Mummy, Aunty Bana and Daddy went for fish spa whilst T-OF-I-A and me napped.




















On the 3rd day, Mummy took us to Aunty Fidza's house in Sering Ukay. She is Mum's bestie since forever and even though they live miles apart, they talk to each other almost daily. Which explains her exorbitant phonebill.

I love her house, its a 3-storey terrace and the basement is a kids playroom, which is my hangout place with Batrisya, Balqis and Haq.



















I didn't even mind when Aunty Fidza kidnapped Mummy for a 2h spa treatment. She came back 6 hours later, happy as pie after a romantic couple spa...



















...but NOT with Daddy!

























Afterwards we went for a chow session (we've been on a binge-fest since we got here- Carl's Junior, Tony Roma's.... but Mummy is still stick thin!). This time, after much deliberation with Aunty Fidza- Ikea?? Chillis?? TGIFridays??- Mummy picked Teppanyaki. And they ordered 7 plates between them- the gluttons.





















And that rounds up our mini retreat. We'll be back again kissin' cousins! Hip hip hooray!

see how round my face is??! I need to lose all this holiday weight asap! xoxo

A birthday weekend

A birthday seafood lunch @ Bottle Tree Park, Sembawang with the Pereras..







Followed by a customary Christmas tree decoration session for the kids @ Sapna's new crib. Only it ended up being me & Anil decorating the tree, the kids destroying most of what we've put up and Sapna & Hafidz cooking up a storm in the kitchen..


*The next Travis Barker in the making :)

MeRrY XmAs and HaPpy HoLidayS to oNe & All!

****

But wait! Don't go yet...

I have to bring up a birthday movie where we 3 mums shamelessly eyeballed Rob Pattinson's bony chest, not really caring about the wrong shade of powder or Revlon-rouged smackers:

oh, he's hawt!

..and ate to our hearts' content, convincing each other that our husbands are better looking than him ANYWAY (and no REAL men wear lipstick hrpmph), with dire consequences afterwards... resulting in MC Monday!

...OK, now you can go! :)

And I will see YOU when I get back from KL! 1 more day to go- yeay!

:: xoxo ::

Home-bound

Sometimes death can be a blessing. It can end a suffering that has been ongoing for a lifetime. Especially when he had been the unlucky one to develop colon cancer, like his late father. Especially since the past 3 years of his life was spent in a morphine-induced comatose.

Was there a time when he had been happy? When was the last time he smiled that loopy smile?

I only recall a sullen-faced uncle whose epilepsy had prompted my late Tok Bak to ground him his entire adult life. He had believed it was for the good of his child that this was done. Uncle was always getting into fights with impatient strangers who did not understand his disability and hurting himself by falling on roads and down stairs.

But in death Uncle spoke to us. Words that he was not able to express. Words like "Please take me home". He didn't care very much being stuck in Bright Vision home since my grandparents' death but there was simply no one who could care for him amongst Mum's siblings. Everyone had a life to run and he just didn't fit in.

A wise woman once preached "there is no touch like that of a Mother's touch, it is full of love". But Tok Mak left us 8 Jun 99 and Uncle probably hasn't been touched with love since then.

So when we saw his final resting place read N1-3, 553... everyone was stunned. Unit 13, block 553. My late grandparents' home address, where he spent his entire adult life cooped up in. You've gone home now haven't you Uncle?

What was his life about, I wondered that morning when I got dressed for the funeral rites. He was sickly as a baby, was epileptic since he was a child, a 'liability' to my grandparents and his siblings, no CPF, no wife, no kids, nursing home, smoker... all these labels which determined his sad life.

And then when I saw all of us together again in the mortuary, holding on to each other in our guilt for not visiting him ever or as often as we should, I realised one thing. He is the magnet that pulls this laissez-faire family together, family members who otherwise would be too busy to catch up with each other.

So in his memory, I invited everyone for a post-funeral lunch at Fish & Chicks. Faces that I see perhaps a little more than once a year but whom I call family. And we went back to my parent's house afterwards and we looked at all the old dusty albums in the drawers with the high-waisted jeans and the big hair and the garish makeup. And Uncle was missing in every single one of the albums as though he was an embarrassment that cannot be seen.

And so here I declare that I have a disabled Uncle, I was terrified of him as a child and perhaps that made me postpone each time from paying him a visit at Bright Vision Home, even as I drive by there every evening on my way home from work.

But he remembered me.

I know Sofia saw him the night of his death, half an hour before I got the call from my brother. He stood by my window in the darkened room. He was observing us and she sensed him and stared back. She didn't cry so I was not scared. But I whispered superstitiously into the dark "Go away whatever you are and don't bother us" and read the holy verse in her ear.

Thank you for visiting me and looking at my children. Thank you for remembering me even though I have forgotten you.

May you rest in peace Uncle and remain always in our prayers.

All about Sofia- 6 month on

Ah... the six month mark. An achievement, a milestone, half of the success story..

Apart from the 2 hospital stays that cost us a bomb (reminder to self: if if IF there is a 3rd one, I should get insurance sorted before we leave the hospital instead of trying to decipher the baby bonus form), her growth chart is nothing short of exponential.

She's such a lovely baby to care after, so easy-going and well-adjusted. Perhaps having a loud lout at home (i.e. Big Sis) who will alternate between kissing her overzealously "I laf youuuuu" and grabbing her teethers with contempt "Mine! Mine! Mine!" means she doesn't have a moment to get bored or cranky. Once in awhile, I send Big Sis to ex-sitter's house and during those quiet days, Sofia would cry a lot and be maladjusted. She's very much in love with Arissa, often smiling widely and kicking her legs when she catches a flash of Big Sis, who has acquired the speed and dexterity of The Roadrunner. *peet peet*

The other day Sofia finally discovered she has a voice.. and has been practising her vocal range eversince. She gurgles, chortles and screams with full concentration, especially when she has a responsive audience:

Recently she has mastered the art of turning on her tummy AND pulling her arms out from under her AND raising her upper body at a 45* angle. Just days after learning this new trick, she has begun lurching forwards to reach for Arissa's toys. Oh the fun begins... we shall see how these two fight, I can just imagine how affected DADDY will be. If he thinks Arissa is naughty now, he's got a whole new thing coming.

She has lost all that beautiful thick baby soft hair from the womb and went almost bald, but stubborn me didn't want a shaven-headed baby no matter what people said. I didn't shave Arissa's hair and it grew fine. Mum called Sofia 'Professor-head' for a time, because she had tufts of shorter hair and trails of longer hair, fit for a comb-over!

But as the hairline receded, the eyelashes just kept on growing.

At 4 months, we spotted a pair of jagged edges popping out of her lower gums and I was quite miserable, thinking this must be the death of Breastfeeding. All that biting, surely I'm supposed to give up?!

The only issue is that she still protests very loudly to being bottle-fed. And Mum, maid & me end up scratching our heads not knowing what to do with this screaming bundle of joy. Silly cows that we are didn't think she's respond better to scheduled feeding (thanks MIL for the suggestion), as Arissa was fed totally on demand. Problem solved (most days at least).

With the advent of teeth, she started to get more and more hungry, often waking up 4-5 times a night for feeding. I end up putting her in our bed (R.I.P Romance). But I was wary of starting solids on her, I ought to at least wait til 6 months, says the cereal tin. Should've known better..

But wait a full entry about Sofia!!! This lout would not ALLOW me to shine the limelight away from her:

Me, me, me! I'm cuter!

Fish & Chicks

Hafidz's grand idea turned into reality in May 2009. Introducing the F&C team:

602B Sembawang Estate Drive (opposite Sembawang Shopping Centre)
Tel: +65 6852 0089

Its the stuff you find at beach bars like KM8 and American diners like Chili's and TGIFridays except its halal. They make their own pizza dough, do not pre-cook their steaks and prepare their own sauces from scratch.

Bring your mum & dad too, there is a local kitchen that serves Singaporean fare at obscenely affordable prices.

They're usually packed full house on weekends but the fresh food is worth the wait.. and have a mocktail or two while waiting!

*teehehehe, sales pitch habis-habisan seh*

Goodbye terrible 2, Hello terrific 3

And it's over!

For weeks and weeks, I have been caught up at work preparing for APEC 09. Our involvement was massive, there were 4 live positions in all- Shaw Towers, the International Media Centre @ Suntec Convention, Orchard Hotel, Regent Hotel and lastly we had to man the live hits from BBC studio. With such a huge deployment of people and equipment, I rarely left the office before 9pm and had clients, bosses and staff calling at all hours of the day.

And no, I didn't get to meet President Obama, none of us did, not even the correspondents..

With that on my agenda, I didn't have enough time to prepare for Arissa's 3rd birthday. Hafidz & I decided that this year's birthday party should be low-key anyway (can't expect the same wallet-busting occasion every year..) so I ordered a cake with her fav character plastered in icing and we tooted over to Nek Som's house and unabashedly hijacked her kenduri-nak-pergi-Haji.

It made sense, everyone was there and there was already food- shameless I know . I asked and the host didn't mind none anyway..I had Arissa practise her birthday song all the way over but a proverbial cat got her tongue when the grand finale came round.

!

Tummies full with yummy 'kampung' fare and cakes, we hopped over to the opposite block i.e. my parent's house, and had more cakes and prezzies to celebrate with her cousins. Again, we were killing 2 birds with one stone cos my parents will be performing their Hajj this year and Hafidz hasn't gone around to meet them in awhile.




I can't believe she's 3 already... it seemed not too long ago that I held her in my arms, tiny and quiet in the delivery ward. And now all she wants to do is steal my makeup bag.

Just yesterday, she proudly pointed out her black-marker drawn toenails and as I gasped in horror, she skipped away like Wednesday Addams (from Addams family laaaa).. As we were in a hurry to attend another kenduri-nak-pergi-Haji, I didn't have time to remove the self-inflicted graffiti so she walked around like a little goth girl all through Sunday.

I have more palette colours than Mummy! Oh joy!