The price of enjoyment.

I had an enjoyable evening out with Hubs and the boys, met up with GGYY for a bit of shop/talk/eat/drink and it was a nice respite from the usual droning domestic routine.

The brightly lit shops bustling with the temporal joy of retail therapy, the gorgeous merchandise begging to be fondled and brought home, the excited shrieks I unknowing let out upon finding something so perfect for myself. I finally found out my Uniqlo size – Large for bottoms. I don’t need an XL! Oh love, oh joy!

The air was so fresh, so new. I wasn’t confined in a lousy sunless 3-room flat anymore. I felt free, I was happy. I was out of the repetitive daily cycle!

Just as I was thinking that I should allow myself to get out at least once a week, I got home and was reminded by the 101 things that should have been done but wasn’t because I wasn’t home.

The stress descended upon me again – a heavy feeling of being busy beyond description. Burdened, even.

I took off the Aldo wedges I had been wearing so proudly, and changed out of the beautiful clothes that had made me feel so carefree. Once again, I was barefoot and clothed in my domestic attire. Work began immediately once the “uniform” had been donned.

I pumped my breasts so Joshua can have breastmilk. I packed away what I had stored from earlier today, and put in what I had just reaped from my boobs. I cleaned Joshua up and tucked him into bed with the new routine that I had to rack my brains over for the whole week. Then I washed up the pump parts, changed the sterilising fluid, and soaked the clean parts in it.

It felt almost sad to be home again. To be doing this again after only 3 hours of being freed from it. Homes are meant to be a place of relaxation, away from stressful work and the demands of society. But here I am: working at home, out of home, day and night; until my hands are coarse, my cuticles dry and peeling, my back aches and my head hurts. Without even a chance to go for a decent manicure without worring about the 101 things that are waiting to be done. All this work for the monthly remuneration of… not a single cent.

Sometimes I really wonder why I decided to have kids. And why I still want more children despite feeling like this almost all the time. The joys don’t come as often, nor as easily, as what something store-bought would bring.

The stupidity of maternal instincts.

Daddy’s Boys.

Despite how some people say how the kids look more like me, or more like Daddy, I don’t really care. I think they’re cute and they always resemble Daddy more.

I love how Joshua shares (most things) very willingly. Just don’t touch his pillow, or he’ll bite.

Keegan’s face is an almost exact replica of Hubs. PHOTOCOPY CLONE!

And this is the precious expression that Hubs usually gives me when I ask if I can buy something (again):

HAHAHAHAHAH!

We lose.

But we’d only admit it via MSN to each other.

PM 06:21:39 shelled: i force J to wake up just nw
PM 06:21:45 shelled: slept ard 3pm. wake up 5.30
PM 06:21:52 shelled: told him if tired sleep early tonight
PM 06:21:57 shelled: but we all know he won
PM 06:22:01 shelled: *won’t
PM 06:22:01 shelled: hahaha
PM 06:22:06 Nash Tan: won also same
PM 06:22:11 shelled: HAHAHAHA
PM 06:22:15 Nash Tan: every night we lose
PM 06:22:27 shelled: if only u were so witty when we speak face to face

NEVER LET THE KIDS KNOW THEY’RE WINNING!

He’s smarter than I thought.

Joshua loves soups. And just like his Mommy dearest, Joshua loves his soups hot, which is why I never let him self-feed soups.

Just now for lunch, he had cream of pumpkin with saltine biscuits on the side. He learnt how to dip biscuits into the soup, and he really enjoys doing it.

When the soup became a sad little orange puddle at the bottom of the bowl, he demanded to take over the spoon. Seeing how the soup wasn’t really hot anymore, I surrender the spoon over.

He dipped the spoon into the soup, picked it up, and dipped his biscuit on the spoon instead. This way, his hands won’t get dirtied by the sides of the bowl.

So smart.

I guess I sometimes forget that he’s already 2 and smarter than I think he is.

Here’s him enjoying Alfredo pasta some time ago. Raving with his thumbs up, and licking the sauce off his face:

Watered Down

This feeling is way too familiar.
This estrangment
sparked by children’s demands.
Romance
watered down by responsibilities.

I count down.
To the day they both settle down
to a new routine of four family members
instead of the previous three.

Counting
Waiting
Praying
Hoping

For the day we can date again.
To bask in each other’s affection
without distractions.

I thank God this is not more than what I can handle.
At least,
the boys take turns to defy their schedules.

Nursing Two.

22 months after his last taste of breastmilk, Joshua has decided that he wants it again.

It all started when we passed him a bottle of EBM (expressed breastmilk) that we had warmed up for Keegan, but didn’t manage to feed him with. The baby overslept, and by the time he had wanted to feed, my boobs were threatening to explode so, heck, I decided to latch him on to breastfeed instead of giving him that bottle. But not wanting to waste my milk, Hubs asked Joshua if he wanted it.

That boy finished all 150ml of it and ask for more.

Since that fateful day 2 weeks ago, I’ve been tandem pumping (pumping during each breastfeeding session while Keegan is latched onto the other boob) in order to extract the milk out for Joshua. And boy, is it tiring. Kudos to all pumping mommies!

If I had to feed my baby purely on expressed milk, I would probably give up due to exhaustion from all the “protocol” that’s necessary with expressing breastmilk. Really will ki siao lor.

I’d love to let Joshua latch onto the boob again, so I can skip all the hassle of pumping/washing/sterilising/storing/thawing/heating of EBM. But it’s been 22 months, and the only thing he manages to achieve at my boob is to BITE ME. (That’s the thanks I get.)

And now that he’s refusing formula milk – preferring to sip a packet of Magnolia UHT while he waits for the EBM to warm up – I’m almost desperate for a quick fix to up my supply to be enough for two.

And this is despite using my urgently purchased Ameda Lactaline (for a good $365, I might add) to replace my not-so-efficient and wrist-straining Pigeon Manual pump. My religious tandem pumping, with extra pumping sessions thrown in to stimulate supply, has brought my total pumping yield to an average of 500ml per 24 hours. Joshua needs at least 240ml of milk, three times a day. That’s a good 220ml of milk I’m still lacking.

I think it may be time to buy some of those Fenugreek, Goat’s Rue, and whatever supplement thingies to boost my supply further.

I just wish Joshua had decided earlier that he wanted to switch back to breastmilk. Then I would have started pumping once didi was born, and would have ample milk to feed them both when the supply stabilised.  Instead of trying to up it after it has already nicely stabilised itself to feed just one newborn.

Still wondering if I should be feeling upset or happy about this. While I know breastmilk is good for Josh, I also know I’m damn stoned from the late nights of pumping/latching, really tired from physically pushing myself to make more milk, and stressed whenever he insists on having breastmilk instead of formula.

I can give him 240ml of formula, and he’ll put his “finished” bottle in the sink with 100ml still inside.

My current EBM stash = zero. Whatever I pump today all goes into his tummy tomorrow. Which means I can’t take any breaks without didi, cos there is no EBM left for him. Which means I might soon go insane from this constant mothering where there is no room for self, and all goes to the kids.

I think it’ll be a long long time til I can be released for a few hours to get my tattoo done. Manicures? Hairdresser’s?! Date nights?!? You must be joking.

P.S. I’m ultra bitter today because my Starhub set-top box decided to screw up on me and didn’t record the 2 eps of “The Charm Beneath”. It’s the only drama series I’m following, and my only source of lazy enjoyment these days. Thanks, Starhub. You officially screwed up my Saturday.

Hot hot!

Joshua saw video footage of a fire during the evening news today, and he immediately held his hand to the TV and said: “Hot hot!”

I have no idea where he got the idea that fire was hot, because he has had no exposure to open flames.

He’s really learning a lot of stuff off the TV, which makes me uber glad that I only let him watch Playhouse Disney. Who knows what kind of nonsense he could learn from watching rubbish?!

Starting Sentences.

Yesterday after coming home from church, Hubs decided to go take a nap with Joshua. Unfortunately, his engine conked out before Joshua did.

Joshua had wanted Hubs to read him a book, and this was what Joshua said: “Papa! Book. Read. Kew!”

When Hubs laid there motionlessly, Joshua climbed onto the bed and shoved the boardbook into Hub’s hand.

“Papa!! Nah. Read! Book. Kewww!!”

Still no response. I was giggling away insanely.

“Nah. Papaaa!! Nah! Kew!! Read! Book!! Read!!! Kewww! Kewwww!!!”

And finally Hubs said: “Ok ok.”

Joshua broke into a grin and reply: “Ok. Kew! Read!!!”

I really like how he says “thank you” (aka “kew”) before we give him what he wants. Polite, and very persistent indeed.

Rawker Bai Baybee!!!!

Keegan has been fussy for the past 2 days for unknown reasons. Nothing seems to pacify him, except for holding him for exxxxxtended periods of time. No prizes for guessing why I’m “talking” all weird now. (If you’re really that dense, it’s called “sleep deprivation”.)

Despite the boy sleeping pretty well once it hits past midnight, I still have a gazillion things to do around the house and for my recently arrived spree items. WTFFFF. I’ve been clocking only 2-3hrs of sleep nightly. Wait a minute, it ain’t even considered “nightly” cos I only hit the pillow at dawn!! Only to wake up shortly afterwards around 8 to 9am.

I have no idea what kind of energy/drug I’m functioning on. But if it is possible for the human body to somehow manufacture and secrete a substance similar to Speed, then I’m probably doing it now.

Anywhoooo, following the interrupted video of RockerJosh, the lil’ one is now being lulled to sleep by the soothing sounds of metal rock. Alternative lullabies indeed. Currently the loud banging music seems to be the only thing that calms him – oh the irony – enough to keep him quiet and happily sitting on his own. And certainly calming enough to make him fall asleep.

And he wakes up the moment I stop the music.

I think all that Guitar Hero-ing I did during my pregnancy is now showing its side effects on Keegan.

“Let’s rawkkkkk! RAWR!!”

Actually he was just yawning.

Le Sigh.

You know, there was a time when I had to squeeze out stuff to blog about. The tons of insignificant stuff that floats around in my head, the mundane happenings (and “achievements”) of my domesticated life, and the 1001 complaints that I never seem to stop having.

Well, now I don’t have much to complain about anymore. Haven’t had any in quite awhile, and don’t think there will be any in the near future. Except for parenting issues, I guess.

And the greatest irony of all is how there’s so much more to update and record down, but yet I can’t seem to muster up the concentration nor motivation to get them down.

I failed to blog about:

• how Joshua flooded our kitchen with water that’s 1-inch high. TWICE.
• how we finally got a cane to discipline him with
• the onset of his Terrible Twos, which to be honest, isn’t all that terrible but just a slight deviation from his usual obedient self
• the birth story of Keegan (that wasn’t meant to be)
• Keegan’s 1st month celebration
• the latest home improvements we’ve done
• the many amusing anecdotes courtesy of Joshua and Hubs
• Joshua’s amazing developmental progress (I’m in shock every single day)
• and so much more…

I’ll try to restart back to the one-post-per-day habit. I’ll really have to try. Because I don’t want to look back in future, and regret that I didn’t keep all these precious memories in writing. Right now I’m just recording snippets via Twitter because that’s about all fluent English that my writing brain can cough up.

And I think I should really start taking more photos of Keegan. But heck, the boy hates camera flash!!

Meanwhile, here’s my little Guitar Hero Wannabe rawking it out on his (very lame-looking) toy guitar:

The video ended abruptly because his curious self had to “see!?!” what I was filming. That’s why I say, how to video when he always wanna kaypoh?!?! Tsk tsk tsk.

If you listen in very closely, you’ll be able to hear him grunting (in rockstar fashion) along to his strumming! He also knew how to “wear” the guitar, without us even teaching him. We don’t know where he picked up the pretend guitar-ing from. We’ve never played with the Wii when he’s up and about lor!! (Except at the two Wii parties where he was present.)

And no, I am NOT going to let him touch my Guitar Hero at all. Not until he turns at least four.