Neither fish nor fowl

Ever since I gave birth to the most beautiful baby in the world, I had always wondered about the differences in being a stay at home mom (SAHM) or a working one. I am currently a working one and while I recognize that this is the best decision for the current phase in my life, I often wonder how it would be like to be a SAHM.

During my 2 months of maternity leave (employer, WHY YOU NO GIVE 3 MONTHS?), I had a taste of being a SAHM. While I was still pregnant, I envisioned my leave to be a blissful time; juggling house chores that I never could get started (let alone finish) and taking care of a well-behaved, always napping baby.

That’s what newborns do, right?

In reality, I had days when I was loosing my mind, stressing out about finishing the laundry before my little baby needed another feed from me (I breastfed exclusively). The hurried pace, lack of sleep (because of my own doing - not the baby’s) and trying to do it all eventually had me wishing I was back at work.

At least at work, I could sip a beverage at the water cooler, instead of forgetting to drink water due to all the juggling (true story!). At work, there were times when the lunch hour was an hour of no work. Being a SAHM meant taking bites from your plate of fried rice while washing the dishes (multitasking at it’s finest). At work, I could daydream during meetings. If I daydream at home, I’d fall asleep and get nothing done. The horror!

Once my maternity leave was up, I reluctantly went back to work, leaving my beautiful baby in the caring and confident hands of my mother. All should be starting to look good right now, right?

Wrong.

At home, I get to sniff my baby’s head anytime I want to, instead of just longingly looking at her pictures sent by my mom periodically. At home, I was on my own schedule. I could eat when I was hungry, pump when I needed to and only adhere of the cooing sounds of my little angel, but at work it was all about a strict schedule. My first (very painful) blocked duct happened within the first week of work. At home, if my baby ever needed anything (especially milk) I was a mere mini-second away. But if I had short milk supply (which happened often) I’d have to drive at least an hour to get to her.

It is very frustrating that the money I make is neither miniscule enough to abandon thoughts of career advancement (and instead embracing diapers full time), nor lucrative enough to buy my little one everything her heart desires (in exchange for one-on-one time with mommy). This fork in the road could not be more confusing.

To all SAHM, I salute you for the sacrifices you make and for those (like me) working moms, I salute you also for the sacrifices you make.

Double salute anyone?

Fisher Price - Soothe & Glow Seahorse (play your music longer, dagnammit!)

If you, like me (you really like me?! Ha punctuation joke) received this nifty gift because you just had a baby, you would have quickly realized that this adorable, velvaty toy only exhibits its warm orange glow and soft, lulling music for less that 5 seconds.

How is that suppose to hold my baby's attention while I take my 2 minute shower (timed tested and proven, ladies and gentlemen)

Apparently, after scouring the interwebs, I discovered that these chubby toys are in demo mode by default. I've since discovered a way to change it to its original intended mode (read: hypnosis)

Oh look! Nifty pictures!

First, open up the velcro at the back of the sea horse. Taking out the actual operational part might prove difficult but I find it easier if you bend it a little and ease the bottom part out first.

Once out, take a look at its "head". You'll notice a switch that is at the bottom location. That's the demo mode. Nudge that little bugger up to the highest point and you'll be greeted with a pleasant bubbling noise.

Insert the terminator-like part back to its fuzzy home and squeeze the belly once more.

Now go take a shower.

Note: You can put it back to its demo mode although you might find it hard to nudge the switch all the way back down. You'll need to insert something small into that hole and push down while sliding the switch. I used the end of a paperclip.

Hankering for some Tandoori chicken

Why, oh why did I have to come accross this webpage?

Do NOT click. The content is lame.

Do NOT click. The repetition of 'Tandoori Chicken" will make you hungry. Even if you just had lunch.

Do NOT click. The ad at the end will break your last resolve.



I warned you.

What's so great about Tandoori chicken

Daiso Avenue K

Hello there and welcome to a Rant post where I highlight experiences that irritate me to my core.

So, the other day I had to go to Daiso to get two very specific items. Since it was so hazy outside, I decided to put my health first (shocker) and head over to Avenue K as it has an underground air-conditioned tunnel that allows me to walk from my workplace to Avenue K. The other alternative is to use the pedestrian bridge that is suspended above the major roads, but that would mean inhaling all that lovely smog.

As I make my (very long) way to Avenue K, I planned my journey. I’d go to the banks to do a little withdrawal and deposit on the way, then grab a bite to eat coming back.

Once I made it to Daiso, I proceeded to the stationary isle where I was greeting with messy items strewn all over the shelves and floor. To my dismay, the item I wanted was placed at ceiling level, out of reach for an already above average height self. I consoled myself that I’d simply get one of the staff to help me out. Finding and marking the file I wanted (it’s a specific zippered, see-through A4 hard cover file) I made my way to the counter where I inteded to look for the other item, an all in one usb card reader, and also to get the staff to get my file.

Upon reaching the counter, I was not greeted by the sole staff that was manning the cash registries. I didn’t mind so much because let’s face it, it’s our culture. I scanned the items on displayed behind the barricade of cash registers like a pickpocket. To my dismay (again), the usb card reader was not to be seen.

I politely asked the cashier if she knew where such thing was placed, but she merely stared at me through vacant eyes and whined that she didn’t know and that I needed to wait for The Captain to get back and ask him instead. This Captain was at the bank. Figuring that I couldn’t possibly stand in between The Captain and his Treasure Cheques, I then asked the cashier if someone could help me get my file from the top most shelf.

Again, she whine that she couldn’t help me because she was the only one there, and that I should wait to get The Captain to help me.

I thought that a peg-legged cartoon character couldn’t possibly make my mood better and wasting my youth at a 5 ringgit store (price without GST) would surely give me a heart attack, I left.

I walked to Daiso Pavillion. Using the pedestrian walkway. In the haze. *Cough *Cough

The Daiso in Pavillion has so much more variety and they don’t treat you like potential criminals by placing itmes out of reach behind the cash register. Also, there are staff always about, so getting help is not a problem. Plus, the file I wanted? Neatly placed at eye-level, color coordinated.

I am never going to The Captain’s Daiso at Avenue K again. It’s just not worth it.

Dear Universe,

Do you remember ankle tans? The ones we use to get unintentionally because we wore white (but mostly off-white) socks with our white (but really, brown) school shoes?

Remember when we turned 17 and we were done with the school-uniform life? We embraced cute skirts and shaved our legs and moisturized religiously. We squealed when we saw strappy shoes and anklets.

Then the realization hit us as we strutted our stuff for the first time. We had ankle tans. A very visible line that exposes the paleness of our feat and our tan calves.

We displayed our naivety that we were just out of our uniforms and had no business trying to make our mark into the real world.

This made us hid behind sneakers again. Skirts were longingly caress but never adorned. Never mind if we had chubby calves, that was saved for a different time.

So what did we do? I know what I did. I sunned my feet. I made a conscious decision to sit by the patio and lay just my feet in the warm (and then hot) rays of the sun. I envisioned even toned legs with toe rings and Ipanemas while roasting my feet.

Then the day finally arrived when I slipped into a pleated, laced skirt and put on my turquoise strappy heels.

First person who sees my outfit says, “came back from diving?”

Planner video binge

Do you have those old school books that are called “planners”? You know, those notebooks that deceive you into thinking they’re regular books that are filled with blanks pages, begging to be scribbled in but when you open them up POW! These pages are filled with dates! We’re talking pages with months of the year listed in chronological order, appointment spaces egging you to fill something in at 10:00 am.

As much as I love notebooks (I should really wax lyrical about them someday) I adore planners. These are supposedly hard to come by because who uses paper anymore? Everything is either on the computer or on your phone. I understand this because I use them all them time. I’m in an office where nobody attends a meeting unless there’s a reminder 5 minutes before it’s due. I will forget my father-in-law’s birthday unless my phone reminds me a day before (I know it’s sometime in January *sheepish*)

But I still love planners. They can come in all shapes and forms. My favourite are ones with tabs with spiral binding. Easy for laying flat.

Since I literally have no money to buy a planner, or a notebook (yup, not even one from Daiso) I have been binge watching people showing off their planners on YouTube.

Have you seen this one? It’s got stickers. STICKERS!

Or this? The extra stationary! Free printables! *drool*

Or this one! So unique and creative!

I believe I will have to spend the rest of the day, binge watching these truly creative master planners showcase their notebooks and get planner-envy (I’m making it a thing)

Dear Universe, WHY YOU NO GIVE ME MONEH TO BUY NOTEBOOK?!

Missing but alive

There’s too much on my plate because of my ambitious visit to the buffet of projects.

This is why I am missing 2 month’s worth of content.

It’s not that I had nothing to say (or write), it was just that I had so many that my thoughts were all over the place.

I’ve been pulling back on some on-going projects so that I can prioritize on the manageable ones (goodbye learning Spanish) I also needed to set realistic goals so that I can feel good when I achieve them (so long baking month). I believe I was trying to accomplish so much and was not recognizing my own limitations, that I sort of set myself up for failure.

I’m the type of person that gets joy from looking at all those checked boxes, all those crossed out items and all those neatly arranged freezer meals. Call it OCD, but I am happy when there are signs of organization in my life. To see a to-do list that was made weeks ago, just staring back at me, un-finish, mocking me and gathering dust puts me in an irritable mood. I beat myself up for not getting to that task sooner (or ever!) and then spiral into a state of depression, questioning my very existence.

So while I have slacked for the past two months, I have been driving myself crazy by beating myself up on neglecting this outlet. I have things to say, thoughts to transform and rants to write!

The direction of this blog is still not clear to me but I have decided that it’s not the most important part to deal with right now.

I have one clear goal; start creating content. Once I have that down, I’ll work on a bigger (and inevitably more complicated) target.

I don’t care if my entry for the week is something random, or an incomplete thought. I believe half the battle has been won if I can get it down on (virtual) paper.

Dear Universe, thank you for being patient with a scatter-brained, self-motivated, self-sabotaging and neurotic person. I like you, let’s try to be friends. I should warn you that the next few entries will be weird.

But you like weird, don’t you?

KLCC EG Mother, Baby and Kids Expo 2016

Decide if you need/want to go to this weekends' Mother, Baby and Kids Expo at KLCC.

I managed to swing by the Convention Centre and noticed that they were having a Baby Expo in halls 4 and 5. Since it was after lunch and the crowds weren't that bay, I decided to go in.
This proved to be another one of my regrets in life because I had to spend 10 minutes in line to register myself (why?), filling up a form sandwiched between two large burly, stinky men. In return, I was handed a minuscule rectangle paper the size of an SD memory card, which could be exchanged for a free door gift. (Spoiler alert! Don't hold your breath, ladies).

I then proceeded to enter the halls and was immediately taken back by its small-ness. I managed to maneuver through the whole 'exhibition' in less than 10 seconds. There were loads of strollers and car seats, two major breast pump booths (Medela and Spectra), quite a few vendors selling cheap baby clothes (onesies up to 6 months and tops and bottoms for the older kids) and several post-natal care services.

The clothes, while cheap and vast in variety, proved a little lack in the quality side. However, if you have the gift of selecting diamonds among dirt, this could be your coal mine.

The door gift was a medium sized pink and blue fabric bag (which couldn't hold my lunch) with 'Bepanthen' in large bold letters (free advertising!) and a sample sized Bepanthen nappy rash ointment as well as a Zam-Buk ointment (I have no idea what this is).

In summary:-

Go!
- if you're expecting your first baby or it's been awhile since you gave birth.
- if you like decently spaced pathways
- if you like Pigeon, Pureen, Philips Avent and Tommy Tippee (these are the booths that take up major real estate)
- if you like brownies that claim to help you increase your milk supply

Don't go!
-if your baby is older than 6 months
-if you think Mothercare is one of the participating brands (so disappointing)
-if you think throngs of people milling about with no action plan is hell on earth
-if you value your weekends like they were rare and precious flowers, blooming only in the light of a blue moon.

Prioritize the babeh!

I hate having regrets. It’s the one pet peeve that really bugs me. If there’s any time in my daily routine that I find myself going “oh, I wish I could have..” it would totally ruin the rest of my day. That’s why I try to plan things down to the little itty bitty details so that I don’t have any grief. It’s almost to an OCD level but (hey there, regret!) I try to keep that to a minimum as well. It’s a circle of destruction if you really think about it.

But I digress.

Here is the one thing I wish I knew after coming back from the hospital with a bouncing baby girl.

Prioritize.

I know it sounds over-simplified but nothing could be further from the truth. I just had to prioritize and during that time, baby was number 1.

Maybe it was because I had look forward to the time off from work and had unintentionally planned on stuff I’d like to catch up on. It was like waking up every morning, seeing a film of dust on a hard to reach shelf and thinking, oh that’s ok, I’ll get to it when I’m on maternity leave. I’ve got loads of time.

I did not have any time. In fact, that shelf is still dusty (even more so).

Thinking that I could masterfully juggle putting the baby to sleep while re-filling the sterilized water for Baby’s bottles was a hard lesson to learn. I ended up being frustrated and close to tears, hiding my anguish from my then 3 week old.

It wasn’t until I was at my breaking point, until I looked into my baby’s eyes and noted her wonderfully long lashes (from her dad) that I finally understood the simple meaning of PRIORITIZE.

So what if the couch was piled high with laundry? They will always be laundry to do, but this moment, this very second when Baby was looking at me like I was her whole world; that will not always happen.

So what if the rain is getting all the fresh linens wet again? The sweet child is snuggled close to your chest, her trust so complete that she feels safe to let out a little snore.

Since then, I’ve come to realize that as long as I have my Number One Priority decided and reminded in sight, I could force myself to care less about the other things that are screaming around me (dishes! un-made bed! laundry! clutter!dusts!).

I still tend to unconsciously slip into supermom mode more often than I’d like to admit, but I try my best to remind myself what my Number One Priority is. After that’s done, I find myself breathing a sigh of relief and becoming more focus at the task at hand.

I can also say that I do work more efficiently with less errors as well when this is applied to my workplace. It can get really crazy in the mornings when there are so many fires to put out (metaphorically speaking), but once I shake myself (sometimes literally shaking myself) and figuring out the most important thing to attend to, the other tasks somehow gets done as well.

So it’s true what that say; you have to prioritize. It’s as simple as that.