Showing posts with label Baby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Baby. Show all posts

Thursday, 6 December 2018

Traumatic Child Birth Experience: Part 2

My super cute nephew turns 1 and it also marks a year since the fiasco over my blog concerning my sister's traumatic birth experience. Just this morning, the memory of her with bloody lips crossed my mind and my heart writhed in pain.

I had taken down that post since it caused too much of stress although that is the only post that had over 15k views! I wrote a sequel but I never posted it so I thought I should do it now. I have learned a lot over the year, about myself and the others around me. My husband till today is my strongest supporter with regards to this matter. The reason I thought I should post it now is beacuse although the first part caused so much of stress and pain and hurt, the second write up reflected my bravery in standing up to what I believed in. I just didn't post it as I didn't want to ruffle some feathers.So here goes...

What is more exciting than Christmas which is around the corner? A sequel to my drama, of course. As any sequels go, it could be better or even worse than the first part. So take out the popcorns and let’s find out.

For those who read my previous post about my sister’s ordeal may think that I have an army behind me rallying for justice now. YOU ARE WRONG! I don’t deny there were some who were sympathetic and empathetic but mostly were taking the whole story, which in my defence was a personal rant not an official complaint to the Ministry of Health, out of context and that made me view them as pathetic. But then again, everyone has a right to their opinion.

I was called a delusional, whiny, a writer of a story with so many inconsistencies and loop holes and my personal favourite ‘A-disgrace-to-the-non-muslims’(wow that’s rich) As family and friends began to share my story, more people began to read it and more people began to comment, more bad than good comments, I must add. It was mind boggling. Again, everyone has a right to their opinion.

At a platform, someone mentioned that it would have been better to communicate with the people concerned e.g HOD or Hospital Director and my good friend replied ‘I disagree. This issue concerns the public. And the public should know what’s going on in government hospitals that are supposed to serve the general community, which is made up of mostly middle class and working class folks’ Harsh? Maybe to some but think about it. If I had lodged a complaint at the hospital, I would have been informed that it was standard protocol and the hospital was merely following its policy. Because I came across a platform where many readers who you can guess are medical professionals commented that the whole process was on point and there was no sign of medical mismanagement. They would have apologized, of course. But if you take a minute and read my write up again, I neither mentioned the hospital, my sister’s details nor the medical personnel’s details. Why? I was not seeking for an apology, compensation or a damage control exercise, I just wanted to share my experience. 

I was accused of being crude in my write up, having distorted expectations and adding spices to my story. Again, it was a personal rant not an official complaint hence the flow of language will be different plus it is my blog la, why tell me how to write it? I was not seeking for fame (trust me, don’t even have an ounce of it). My write up became somewhat viral and reached the authorities and ruffled their feathers and that I must stress was beyond my control.

So what was my objective of the write up? I was just unhappy with the system and processes that are in place and I was hoping we could make a difference. And if a small group of readers who has read my write up began to reassess their birth plans based on reading my experience, I would be happy. Some of the comments were along these lines:
‘If you wanted to be treated like a Queen, you should go to the private hospital’
‘You pay peanuts. What do you expect?’

And another reader retorted ‘Does that mean you need to have money for a respectful birth care?!’ That hit me hard and got me thinking. We are in an era where everything is accessible with a touch of a button all for the sake of comfort and convenience but why are we still in the dark ages when it comes to having our babies in a calm and serene manner? Why do we need to spend so much of money in Private Hospitals when Government Hospitals are teeming with highly experienced and incredibly skilled medical personnel? What actually puts us off? In my opinion, (again it is my PERSONAL opinion) It’s the lack of humanizing services which stems from interpersonal skills that DO NOT need funding to cultivate. Change begins within you. If you choose to be more proactive, to be an effective communicator and take the effort to practice the values that define your work place, why would a patient have distorted expectations? I was informed that our country’s maternal and fetal health care is better than in the UK. That’s awesome news but don’t you see that there are still many areas to improve in?

I am not championing Private Hospitals. A reader commented that ‘government hospitals value lives, private hospitals value money’. Where is that coming from la? Both hospitals have experienced medical personnel with a wealth of knowledge and both have its pros and cons. I was asked why my sister opted to do VBAC at a government hospital. My question back was ‘Why not?’ She did her research and chose the government hospital. She understood the availability of facilities and services yet she underwent an unfortunate ordeal. To blame us for not doing enough research before deciding where to go was an unfair statement. She was a victim of miscommunication in terms of pain management plan and having her husband with her. And that is what I am championing, an effective communication process from all channels. I have friends and family members who had wonderful experience having their babies in the government hospitals and also some who had bad experience in private hospitals. So there are pros and cons in everything.

While Australia is celebrating for the legalization of same sex marriages and Pink is promoting genderless parenting, this unknown Malaysian is only championing for a calm and respectful birth care. Childbirth is a humbling experience. A child is made by two persons so shouldn’t that two persons be involved in its birth as well? A proper pain management plan is an added bonus. Of course a father may not want to be with the mother during birth for various reasons and a mother may want to deliver her baby without any drugs (I kow-tow to you, woman). The bottom line is, they should decide this birth plan and it has to be aligned with the hospital policy of which needs to be updated to them at primary healthcare level. When a mother goes through a positive child birth experience, the subsequent journey is guaranteed to be a smooth one which is good for the family’s wellbeing.  All this should be achieved without having to spend so much of money. I understand the constraints some hospitals face in terms of facilities in accommodating the husband in the labour room and the process involved in pain management plan. But please find a way to let the public know. Educate expectant mothers on what should they expect when they step into a hospital to deliver their babies so they can make sound decisions.

A wise woman said, ‘You can’t beat the system’ I asked back ‘Why not?’ The answer was it’s the way things are. Are they? Gandhi said ‘Be the Change You Want to See’ so expectant parents, if you are not getting what you want, if your expectations are not being met and you are just not happy with the system, step up and be proactive. Work harder in getting the right answers.  Have all the details of the available services and facilities to be mentally prepared. Share it with other family and friends as sharing is caring. My sister thought she did but it was not enough. 

Likewise, the medical fraternity should take this as a constructive feedback. Someone said I have to be in the system to understand what is going on but wouldn’t you get more sound suggestion by someone who is looking in from the outside? I understand now that different hospitals have different policies but how about conducting a study on best case practices among the GHs in Malaysia or other hospitals in Southeast Asia. Simple and inexpensive methods like putting up a board with patients’ updates and getting the nurses to update the family on hourly basis without being asked go a long way. You may be doing it already or about to embark to. I wouldn’t know. What I have personally gained from this fiasco is I have learned a lot about how the system works. But what about the next unassuming person? How do we educate the rest so we don’t have grievances aired in the open? The answer is so simple; Effective Communication Skill. My former boss always says ‘Knowledge is Power’ and that is what I believe in too. We have to empower more people with the knowledge. And this is my aspiration; one should not spend extra money to have a comfortable birth care.

So that was the main intention of my write up earlier, to highlight was is lacking. I am not going to apologize for the way I wrote it and also where I shared it. It’s my prerogative. I am fully accountable to what I do. But what I want to reiterate is I didn’t mean to hurt people or any organizations with my write up. Sometimes when you see something unfavourable on social media, take a step back and read it from a different angle. ONLY VERY FEW people understood it was a frustration of a sister over her sister’s ordeal and I am thankful for their emotional support. Just this morning, I received a call from a friend who is a doctor who actually thanked me for the feedback. It was like the light at the end of the tunnel for me like finally someone sees it!

There, I have done my part. I not only ranted, I gave some sound suggestions too. Now I am going to sit back and mentally drink some chilled Somersby beers after all the drama as I was asked to ‘Chill la’ when I shared some unbelievable remarks from the readers with my family members.
Have a nice day

Again, this is my personal blog so I write whatever I want and how ever I like and I am so darn proud of my write up :)

Tuesday, 3 May 2016

Kindness goes a long way in the journey of motherhood

My 17 year old teenager (OK,she is 17 months old but I swear she behaves like the former age) is headstrong and assertive as well as fiercely independent. As much as I admire those qualities in my child, sometimes I wished she would just be a kid and listens to her mother.

Pebbles 'descended' into the Terrible Two era rather prematurely at 14 months. Her progress was rapid and it was obvious that she was throwing tantrums simply because we could not understand her. I found it (still finding it) difficult to be a few steps ahead of her to avert any tragedies.

While I was holidaying with my mother, sisters and my baby niece, Pebbles threw the tantrum of her life. We were at a Chinese restaurant that was teeming with customers. Pebbles was hungry and tired and started wailing. Pippa and I took turns to comfort her but it didn't work until we gave her some ice cream. By then, everyone was looking at us and I was very embarrassed. I wished hubby was with me and I gently chided myself for being overly dramatic until I overhead a man telling his grown children that he was lucky his kids didn't cause a scene at public places. My heart shrivelled and I had no appetite to have my dinner. Later that night, Pebbles threw another round of tantrum and out of frustration, I smacked her leg in 3 quick successions which obviously did not help with the situation as she cried even louder. Eventually she slept off but I was overcome with mortification of what I did. I realized I reacted that way because of what the man said. I was deeply ashamed but I also knew that I was very tired and the fact that Pebbles chose the wrong time to act up did not help.

Fast forward a few days later, we three attended a wedding which ended with a lunch buffet. Having woken up earlier than usual, Pebbles was grumpy and insisted on eating by herself. Not wanting to make a mess and be embarrassed, I pleaded my hubby (who was hungry, poor thing) to take her away while I wolfed down my lunch and then I would look after her. A kind lady next to me said to let Pebbles eat by herself and it is okay if she messed up the place, the servers can help to clean. I was sweating profusely and my nose was blocked, my mind was telling me to eat quickly and I was praying hard that Pebbles would not break down but when the lady spoke to me gently, my heart soared. Her simple words touched my heart and I felt grateful. I was grateful for not being judged. I called my hubby and he came over with a rather flustered Pebbles. The kind lady continued talking to Pebbles in her lilting voice and she (thankfully) settled down and I even managed to feed her a few spoonfuls of food.

Her own kid was messing up the table and when I offered her some wipes she gently refused and said to save them for my own usage. She proceeded to talk about her kids, she has three while meticulously cleaned up the mess with her hands and a tissue. She even complimented my hubby for being supportive and helpful with Pebbles (I am blessed!)
She then left and I realized that I did not ask for her name! She may be a stranger but she made my day. The few minutes of conversation made me realize that kind words go a long way and I have resolved to pass it on.

Thank you sweet and kind lady. May God bless you always.


Image from Google

Tuesday, 5 April 2016

How I am keeping my sanity intact while travelling with a toddler in the car

So you have bought the world’s most comfortable car seat, made sure you have scheduled your travelling plans around baby’s nap time, ensured her tummy is filled, she is in the best of moods, her favourite toys and snacks are packed but only to have your eardrums throb in pain just 10 minutes after you have started your car engine because of her wails.

If you have nodded your head vigorously after reading the first paragraph, I would like to cordially welcome you to my club which is called ‘My Baby Hates the Car Seat’. Pebbles absolutely loathes it. She will be in La La Land for good ten minutes before she turns into mini hulk as she tries to squirm her way out of it while screaming her head out. Her screams alone can win an Academy Award as they are really LOUD and can be used in any horror movies.

So I have tried all the tricks in the book to make her ‘journeys’ comfortable but they have failed MISERABLY. Therefore this post is for those who are in the same predicament as me. What do you do to maintain your sanity?

Firstly, DO NOT REMOVE the child from the car seat. An absolute NO. Once you do that, their cries will only get louder the next time they are strapped in because they know you will give in. The car seat is installed for your child’s safety so do not compromise with that.

Secondly, take a long deep breath. Although your child is wailing in the background, taking in long breaths would help to suppress the rising stress level and maintain a cool head.

Next, play your favourite song on the player. Crank up the volume and sing along. If you are not driving, just do some groovy moves with your hands. You would feel more relaxed and probably your baby would too. I can’t count the number of times, other drivers have caught me dancing like a mad woman in the car (Hubby was driving and I swear he acted as though he didn't know me)

However, if your baby or in my case toddler decides to be the only ‘sound provider’ in the car, turn the player off and be completely silent; you and whoever else is in the car with you. When you hear the slightest sound, just say ‘Sshh’ loudly, with your finger on your lips. Your child might think you are playing a game and will soon stop or even imitate you.

If baby  continues to wail, stretch your arm backwards (if you are sitting in the front) and place your hand on her chest, apply slight pressure and reassure her that you are there and everything is OK. This can only be done if you are not driving. Please don’t be a hero by  doing that with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your baby’s chest!

Lastly, repeat this after me; “This too shall pass. Better days are ahead’. Trust me they are. Don’t let the mini dictator in the car seat defeat you! Pebbles is going to be 17 months old soon and the ‘civil war’ I have with her in the car seat is yet to end but I shall persevere!

And in the meantime, if you have smug parents and relatives who 'boast' about their angels in the car seat, go ahead and 'mentally' punch them. The key word is mentally, guys :)


Image from Google





Monday, 21 September 2015

Confessions of a horrible mother

I hit the lowest point (my version) in my journey called motherhood early this morning. I whacked Pebbles on her calf 4 times! Gasp!Horror!Cringe! Yeap, I did that.Not my proudest moment and I am ashamed at myself for doing what I did. My friend once posted in FB for feeling bad because she raised her voice at her toddler and here I am whacking my poor helpless child. I know my sisters are going to flip big time when they read this so I better quickly explain myself.

Pebbles caught the dreaded flu bug over the weekend  and understandably she was grumpy and not her usual self.  Last night she took it one notch higher by throwing a tantrum in the likes of throwing her head back and crying, hitting her head on the floor and screaming her lungs out.

When Pebbles returned from the baby sitter's, she was already cranky. Refused to take her biscuits for tea time and cried out loud when we wiped her snot. Out of sheer exhaustion, she slept off on Hubby's shoulder and as I was about to soak in the brief reprieve, she woke up wailing loudly. I thought she was hungry so gave her dinner of which she spat out angrily. I checked with my husband who confirmed that she finished her lunch at the baby sitter's. Thinking that she had no appetite, I let her play but our little Miss Sunshine was in the mood of throwing her toys on the floor and strewing all her flash cards at the dining area, my patience was already wearing thin. We were expecting guests for dinner and I had earlier tidied up the house

When the guests came over, they were cooing over her and Pebbles loved the attention. She was relaxed and played with them only to turn all cranky again as they stepped out to leave (Talk about Mr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde, man) If the little one was grumpy, the mother was SUPER DUPER Grumpy (I know, poor hubby).

She only slept at 12.30am. Woke up at 1.45am, crying loudly as though ants were biting her body (I did check for ants, Negative) Gave her milk to drink so she slept off. Woke up crying again at 2.45am, 3,30am, 4,00am, 4,30am, 5.00am. Every time I patted her to sleep on my chest, she slept off only to wake up wailing (with eyes closed) when I gently (very very gently) placed her in her crib. I was at my wits end. I just didn't know what she wanted. I gave her milk again but she refused. I walked around with her in my arms singing lullaby (in a raspy voice) she still cried. I didn't know what to do. I was tired and confused and angry as hell not to mention close to tears. I was going to wake up at 6 am to meditate, have some coffee, prepare her meal and leave for my 8 o'clock Yoga class and I had hardly slept.

At 5.00 am, I rocked her on my lap ( a little too roughly) but she slept off and I thought it was best to place her between me and hubby. She sighed loudly turned over and started crying again, that was the last straw, I gave her 4 quick whacks on her calf which obviously made her wail even more but that got my husband jump from the bed, scooped Pebbles and promptly told me that he was going to sleep in the guest room with her. I was breathing heavily like a mad bull but I strained to hear if she was still crying. No sound so I went to the room and she was curled up like a bunny and snoring away! My husband turned to me and told me to get some rest. I came back to our room.Instead of catching some sleep, I burst into tears berating myself for being a horrible mother. I cried and cried and slept off only to wake up less than 30 minutes later because I thought she was crying. Went back to the other room and she was still in the same position. I knew sleep had eluded me so I decided to meditate and of course my baby's tear streaked face was on my mind throughout my meditation session. I contemplated whether I should attend the Yoga class but I knew I needed to let go some of my pent up emotions so I went (Of which I am glad I did). Came home to find that she was still asleep breathing through her mouth because her itty bitty nostrils were blocked with mucus (sorry for being graphic). I quickly prepared her breakfast, woke my husband up as he had to some errands to run. I was embarrassed to look him in his eyes but I gathered my courage to seek his forgiveness for raising my hand at our child to which he simply said, 'It's OK darling. You were tired' My sweet and forgiving man.

At the sound of the front door shutting, Pebbles woke up and when she saw me she gave her sweet smile and my heart melted. How could I whack this little cherubic child of mine? All is good with mother and daughter now. We played some games. Gave her a bath, fed her and sang her lullaby for her after bath nap.

Personally, it was an eventful morning for me and I really hope I would be more mindful the next time Pebbles doesn't act the way I want her to. After all, I am the mother and she is only a helpless child. I still feel awful for what I did but it serves as a reminder that I should always control my emotions. Motherhood is definitely not for the faint hearted, I tell you!

my poor unwell baby
















Wednesday, 5 August 2015

Bottle Feeding is OK too

I had a tough time breast feeding Pebbles. The day she was born, the nurse brought her to me and we tried to get her to latch on. It never crossed my mind (in a million years) that I may not be able to breastfeed her.
Firstly, I had trouble getting her to latch on. Secondly, I just didn’t have milk. One or two drops but nothing more. Friends told me to pump regularly. I did for 45 minutes, but I only managed to get half a teaspoon. I was devastated, depressed and stressed out.
My brother in law who is an OB/GYN doctor advised me to get her to latch on 1/2 hour before her feed time. I did that religiously only to cry when Pebbles cried because there wasn’t any milk. I call the early months after Pebbles’ birth the ‘Dark Times’
Luckily my husband was very supportive and he took over the formula milk filled bottle feeding rather expertly.
Pebbles is almost 9 months old and I still feel guilty for not breastfeeding her. Whenever she had the sniffles or a slight fever, I blamed myself for not successfully attempting to breastfeed her and providing her with all the goodness of breast milk.
I anticipate in fear for the question “Are you breastfeeding?’ whenever we meet someone. I crumple in despair when they give me the ‘Look’ right after I say No. It took me a long time to look them in the eye and say ‘No’.
My heart still aches (a little dull now) when I see a mother breastfeeding her child.Breastfeeding is not easy. It is difficult for many mothers. That was when I vowed to myself, never to ask that question to a mother with a baby.
I still support breastfeeding.I think it is excellent for the baby. I even told myself to read up all I can and be prepared mentally and physically for the next baby.But if all attempts fail, I would no longer be ashamed or heartbroken to resort to bottle feeding my child with formula milk.
My good friend, Ina recently had a baby and she confessed that she has a tough time breastfeeding her baby. I gave her appropriate advice which is to get the help of a lactation consultant (of which she had already made an appointment to meet) and most importantly to relax when she is attempting to breastfeed her child. I hope she succeeds. And if she doesn’t, I am going to be there for her to ensure she doesn’t get drowned in the dark sea of guilt and embarrassment as I did.
Once someone asked me, how could I bond with my child when I don’t breastfeed? I was stunned by the question and I had no clever retort. I just excused myself to the room only to cry buckets and telling myself in my head, what a hopeless mother I am. It took me awhile to recover from that episode but it resurfaced again when I read the following link from Baby Center.
Only this time, I had a huge smile on my face.These beautiful pictures show the deep bond and affection between the child and the person who is feeding the child through a bottle. When I saw these pictures, I suddenly found myself reminiscing the countless memories of me gazing at Pebbles while she drinks her milk and how my heart swells with so much of love (ok maybe except the time she is grumpy and drinks her milk with a frown which always cracks me up because that’s when I honestly believe I had given birth to a teenager and not a baby)
Basically what I want to say is; I am mother and I feed my child with formula milk and I believe bottle feeding is TOTALLY OK.
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-Written on July 28, 2015-

French Parenting

Since I was feeling all blue yesterday, I decided to get some therapy. No, I didn’t lay down on a lounge chair and talk to a therapist neither did I exercise (although I am fully aware that it’s the BEST remedy). I simply dived into my Mount Kilimanjaro height laundry. As I folded the clothes, I began to relax and sent away all my worries ( In actual fact, I stored them somewhere in the corner of my mind to revisit later) I can’t help it! I am a born worrier.
I told myself to take it easy and take one step at a time. Folding clothes and talking to myself did wonders to my conflicted mind and soon I found myself reaching out for a long discarded book to nourish my soul.
When I was pregnant for Pebbles, I got myself some Chicken Soup for the Souls books. The New Mom, Parenthood and Mother & Daughter editions were simply great and heart warming to read. My husband’s cousin lent me a book called Baby Whisperer which gave many useful tips to basically mould your baby effectively :)
I also bought one book which I did not manage to read. I meant, I read a few pages but I lost interest in it or more like I thought the Baby Whisperer was a more informative and helpful book to read. The book I am rambling about is ‘Bringing Up Bebe” by Pamela Druckerman.
As I immersed myself in the pages, I thought rather belatedly that I should have finished reading the book aeons ago! Druckerman gives such vivid and insightful perspective in raising good kids the way French people do packed with statistics and studies. It is also very entertaining to read about French women’s perspective on babies, childbirth, breastfeeding, losing weight after birth and manners. Can’t wait to read the rest of the book and I will definitely recommend all soon to be mothers to read it.
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Do you know that French women give themselves 3 months to lose all the pregnancy weight? I am behind by 5 months.Yikes!
-Written on July 23, 2015-

Unity in Diversity

It is the Eid celebrations once again and I am happy to see so many pictures of smiling people in colour coordinated clothes in my Facebook news feed for a change.
Let’s admit it, Facebook has become an important tool in bringing people closer together but it is also being used as a platform to brew hatred, anger, jealously and all the negative things you can ever imagine. That is why it was refreshing to see pictures of dear friends having a great time with their loved ones instead.
My close friend Lola invited us over to her house for lunch so as you can imagine, it took my husband and I to get ourselves and Pebbles ages to get ready for this visit. Pebbles was unusually cranky and whiny on that day and I almost watsapped Lola to say we were not coming but the goal of increasing adult interaction came to mind so I persevered and bundled up Pebbles and headed out of the house not realising that I forgot to apply powder on my face and I did not comb my hair! I also wore slippers. I must have been a great sight but polite Lola did not comment anything.
As expected, Pebbles transformed when we reached Lola’s. She became all sweet and giggly (Seriously, I think my child is the mini version of Dr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde) Nobody believes us when we say she is a screaming queen because she starts cooing at the mere mention of it. People do think I have become deranged to say such a thing about my sweet little cuppy cake.
It was a splendid day. We had sumptuous meal and a few other people came over. Besides Pebbles, Lola had a cute little angelic looking niece who is a month younger than Pebbles there. Both babies were on the play mat doing baby stuff when Pebbles suddenly reached out and scratched the other baby’s face. Can you imagine the horror I went through?! I even had for a split a vision of friendless Pebbles in school because she plays rough. Husband and I apologized profusely and of course the parents were too polite to say anything but ‘It’s ok’ (I am still hyperventilating as I write this)
Anyway the baby calmed down and braved herself to be in the same vicinity as Pebbles who by now decided to explore the house with a lot of knick knacks. Husband dutifully followed her around to ensure she doesn’t break anything more than hurt herself :) (Our child is pretty sturdy)
Another child came along with her parents and we realized what an interesting bunch of multiracial people we made. The hosts were Malays (obviously) I am an Indian, and there were two Chinese families and there we were talking and enjoying each other’s company.
It made me realize how essential interdependence is in our society. People of all walks of life are highly capable of living amongst each other as long as we respect one another. It’s simple as that. Respect is the key ingredient in living harmoniously with one another.
Now I have to instil that value in my child perhaps after I cut her nails really short! Sigh
Togetherness
image from Google
-Written on July 18, 2015-

Sports

When my husband and I started dating,I was involuntarily thrust into the Sports World. He watches all kinds of sports not only Football.
Among all that he watches or follows, I got hooked on to 2 games; cricket and tennis (one team sport and the other individual sport ;) ) Both games are long and can be dreary but being the patient me, I enjoy watching them.
My husband plays friendly cricket matches so I used to follow him and watch him play. He is a bowler and although he may not be the best player (sorry darling) he is well versed with the technicalities of the game (or so I think). My first experience watching a world cup game was back in 2011. India was playing Sri Lanka in the finals. Being of Sri Lanka descent, my husband and his family were rooting for Sri Lanka. I was silently supporting India. It was an interesting game and the atmosphere was electrifying. Needless to say, India emerged as champions and husband was moody (he is a sore loser). But that match piqued my curiosity to learn more about the game and I turned to Google, my trusted advisor. Did I tell you I am a Googleholic? :P
Since I don’t cook and the way to a man’s heart is through cooking, I changed my game plan by equipping myself with knowledge about cricket and tennis and I can safely say my man is impressed whenever I offer nuggets of pertinent information about both sports :)
On tennis, I got hooked when I watched the Wimbledon final 2009 between Roger Federer and Andy Roddick. It was a long match and I was mesmerized by the way both players played. I also remembered the commentator describing each player; Federer a wizard and Roddick a machine. When Federer won, clinching the 15th Grand Slam, surpassing Pete Sampras’ record, I fell in love with tennis.I read all about it and even attempted to play the game which I failed rather miserably. Found out rather belatedly that I am a better spectator than a player
Although I an not sporty and actually a nerd, I love watching these two games. My husband preaches the benefits of participating in sports of which I wholly agree.We bond over these two games and I enjoy listening to him commenting (although I always double check on the accuracy of the information on Google) Can’t help it, I am addicted.
However for 8 long years, he has been pestering me to watch football with him of which I have vehemently declined.Football for me is too over commercialised and I find the players are spoiled (Just my thoughts, don’t shoot me, football enthusiasts)
Now that we have a child, I am all game to ensure she gets sufficient exposure in sports.Husband is very keen to get her to play one individual and one team sport and I am secretly hoping she would choose tennis and cricket (not squash or hockey, please) Squash; I don’t understand the game despite husband explaining it to me repeatedly and Hockey; I don’t want her to get hurt with the sticks :) Can’t help it , I am a mother!
It is never to young to start so we got Pebbles dressed in whites together with a white headband and made her hold a Wilson tennis racquet as we prepared to watch Wimbledon 2015 finals.
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Too bad Federer lost to Djokovic but we still love him and we are happy to know that Pebbles have the same head of lovely hair as Federer’s…the soft curls
-Written on July 15, 2015-

Pebbles

There are times I am more than convinced that I had given birth to a teenager instead of a helpless little baby.
Pebbles is at the stage where she screams all the time for everything. Both father and daughter had screaming match the other night and both fell asleep a while later out of exhaustion. The mother in the meantime is partially deaf, thank you very much. It was pretty clear to me that Pebbles was screaming because she was clearly irritated having asked to sleep when she was not sleepy hence the screaming but hubby cleverly converted it into a game. When she screamed, he screamed louder and that prompted her to scream even louder and the frequency grew steadily higher. She made sure she had the last scream before she slept. She did not want to give in to her dad.
At 7 1/2 months of age, Pebbles had not crawled yet and the paranoid me has started to stress out. So the clever me (or so I think) devised some tricks where I get Pebbles to try to get the things she wants by placing them out of her reach. At this point, my daughter has somehow learned to careen her back as she much as she can and stretch out her cute little stubby fingers to grab hold of the things. And I thought, ‘hmm, that’s clever’.
Now Pebbles is always placed on a giant play mate so she doesn’t hurt her head if she falls backwards. The little cheeky one somehow moved out of the mat only to move it once again with her cute little stubby fingers so the object will come closer to her and only this morning she literally flipped the mat so the object rolled towards her. I swear she had a triumphant look on her face. It got me thinking if this little baby of mine is pure genius or downright lazy?!
She eats when she wants to. She sleeps when she wants to and nobody can force her to do anything against her wishes. Only last night, she stared at her dad when he very slightly reprimanded her for being a cry baby. She is only 7 months! God alone knows what  would I do when she starts rolling her eyes at me.
Please take your time to grow, Pebbles…

-written on June 23, 2015-

Blessings

A week has passed since my last entry and oh my what many things have happened.
Firstly I spent the very first Monday as a jobless person. The elaborate version of this statement will be shared in due time.
Secondly, I turned 34. As a young girl, I always thought those who are in their 30’s are old but on the contrary I am feeling very much quite the same as I did in late 20’s.
Thirdly, I survived a family trip to Langkawi island. There were 9 adults plus 2 babies; ages ranging from 60 years old to 7 months. It wasn’t smooth sailing but it was not awful either. We did have a grand time. My favourite was the banana boat ride. The exhilaration I felt was so liberating. The hours we spent at the beach was indeed relaxing.
And finally, I had the weekend I have always wanted! Just me, hubby and baby Pebbles. We attended a birthday party for a two-year old and it felt simply splendid just to spend the weekend as a family of 3. Just us and no one else. I am just so tired of shuttling every weekend.
In short, a lot did happen in a week and I am just blessed to have a great family, an awesome hubby and a super cute and chatty baby.
-written on June 15, 2015-

Tuesday, 4 August 2015

Baby Steps

Hi there,
I have always liked writing but thought it was never good enough to be shared with others. But I always have conversations in my head and I wish I could revisit them if I stored them somewhere.
Writing a journal seemed tedious.Let’s face it, how long can one write without getting intense cramps? So why not blog? But I am so very nervous about it. What if I don’t write well? What if nobody reads it? What if I don’t have exposure to intellectual discourse of which I wish to achieve through blogging?
Then I thought to myself, I wouldn’t know unless I try hence the title of my first entry; baby steps.
What I am planning to share are matters that tug at my heart (that’s why it’s called heart tugs) It’s going to be mainly about my super adorable (ok, I am being bias here, but who cares) almost 7 month old daughter.
I haven’t got much to say now but as I am writing my first entry, I see my little precious taking a nap on my hubby’s shoulder and I can’t help but think of the uncanny resemblance she has with the character ‘Pebbles’ of Flintsones.
Fresh laundry is waiting for me.Let me settle that while I think of an interesting topic to write about in my next entry.
Have a good day
-written on June 8, 2015-