Party Baby Put Your Hands Up In The Air!


Well… well… well… so you survive the dreadful Monday yesterday, huh? How did you do it? Or did you throw yourself down your office building? No? Just a little bit? Still no? That’s good. I think.

Anyhoo, last week my family threw Kaisan a majlis doa selamat (I Googled what’s ‘doa selamat’ is in English and it says “Feast with prayers” [muffled giggle] That’s funny. Feast with prayers… teehihihihi… It's almost as close as Party With Prayers! Teehihihihi! What? You don’t find it funny? Oh you dried old stick you!)

AAAA-NNYYY-HOOO, Kaisan was such a trooper that day!


Didn’t cry the whole time (in fact he yawned when the ‘ahli zikir’ was singing the Qur'an verses [FACEPALM]) and was wide-awake, curiously looking at everybody and was only fussy when he was hungry.




I was so proud of him! But then later that night, the Mister and I spend 4 hours trying to put him to sleep.

Well done, Moonface!



P/s I call him Moonface, Sayang, Chubby Wubby, Smelly Poo and my favorite- Lil’ Chickadee. I make no promise that I won’t call him by all those names when he’s in college. “Hello, Chickadee sayang mamak! How’s your class today? What did you study?” in front of all his friends [Truestory]







Boobs. Depression. Tea. 3 words that shouldn't be in the same sentence together.


I didn’t lactate immediately after giving birth. My milk took 3 days to finally reach my nipples [OMG THERE SHE GOES AGAIN BEING SO VULGAR IMMA TURN MY NOSE UP ON HER BLOG NOW]

I was going insane with anxiety when my milk didn’t come out even when my son was sucking so hard. I kept on trying and trying to feed him and he latched and sucked (Oh he has no problem with latching. He’s a pro in that matter. But what’s the point of knowing how to latch when I don’t lactate?)

We kept trying till my nipples were so sore and painful like as if I just grind it repeatedly on a gravel road. I even had to check my nipples for blood each and every time Kaisan latch. But still, no milk and yes, no blood too on my nipples THANK GOD. So after failing a gazillion million times, I cried “FORMULA COMING RIGHT UP!”

I told my doctor my lack-of-liquid-boobies problem and he gave me a medicine to help speed things up. I took the pill twice and the next day, BAM! PAMELA ANDERSON STARING RIGHT BACK AT CHA! Yeah, Pamela Anderson with big wet stain on her blouse. I was leaking profusely soon after that. Never in my entire life I have seen my breast that GINORMOUS. It was beautiful all right. BUT! But it was DAAAAAAMN PAINFUL! I was practically crying when my boobs were stone hard and throbbing madly. I take back all my wishes to have bigger boobs if only God take away the pain.

I had to use the breast pump to help ease up the pain and lo behold! It was like a Niagara fall when I pump it! I couldn’t wait for Kaisan to wake up and when he did, excitedly I try to feed him. He was like a baby bird –mouth wide open, swinging his head side-by-side rapidly looking for my nipples and… crying. It was not because there was no milk. I just don’t know how to hold him properly! He was latching but I held his body in a way that made him so uncomfortable that he cried and screamed and grunted and growled. Yes, my son growled. I wish I had recorded the sound of him growling coz I swear it was so funny.

The longer I try to feed him, the more frustrated both of us were. He couldn’t latch properly when his body was held incorrectly. I couldn’t hold him properly when he kept thrashing all about. Each feeding became a battle for both of us. But I didn’t give up. Each and every feeding, before I give him his bottle, I try to breast feed him first. When both of us got exhausted wrestling with my boobs and fail miserably, I give him his formula.

Then, a week after his birth, my milk started to slow down its flow. I started to get frantic again and was asking every living woman with obviously-you-have-experience-in-breast-feeding-if-not-why-you’re-boobies-are-sagging on how to increase breast milk. Some said eat young papaya soup. Some said eat lots of porridge. I tried it all but still, nada. By the way, young papaya soup? HOLY MONKEY BUTTHOLES! IT’S BITTER LIKE A MOTHER BUTTCRACK!

To make matters worst, I was hit by postpartum depression. I was supposed to be happy with my newborn but instead I was constantly feeling sad, irritable, and angry and sometimes I cried for no reason whatsoever. I was tired due to no sleep. I had no appetite to eat whatsoever. And I kept thinking of running away from everyone including my son but love and guilt glued my feet to the ground.

After a week or so feeling like toenail fungus, I don’t know what made the depression go away, but I was much happier and able to function like a normal human being again. That was when my milk double triple its amount and flowing rapidly and nicely. This time, I know how to hold my son properly during breast-feeding that FINALLY, both of us sigh a relief and enjoy our bonding moments together.

At the same time, I was drinking Earth Mama Organic Milkmaid Tea, an herbal tea for breastfeeding mothers. I bought 10 boxes from a helpful loyal reader –Zhuriqa Jalil at Bee Little, who recommended me this tea to increase milk production (trust me, this lady helps me A LOT in giving advices about pregnancy and babies. I owe her BIG TIME).



Honestly, I don’t know whether my happy mindset or the tea that helps to keep my breast milk to flow steadily until now. It could be both or it could be one of the other. Whichever it is, I am so grateful that I can breastfeed my son again. Oh I still give him his formula to top up coz my milk alone is not filling for him but I’m not the type who would beat myself up for bottle-feeding him. I’m not that monsters of a mother who gung-ho die-die must feed baby with liquid from boobies’ type. I’m flexible. I know both ways still benefits my son in every kind of ways. Like how I was okay getting a c-sec instead of going natural.

It is all still God’s willing (takdir). Everything is God's willing.






FAB FRIDAY




1) That bushy eyebrows gotta go
2) That mirror needs cleaning ASAP
3) Have a great Friday y'all!


Wearing My Baby Full-Time


Last night, the Mister and I went on our first date night after many centuries my delivery. We left Kaisan with my mom to babysit.

We went for dinner then later a movie.

Everything was nice and dandy EXCEPT I was miserable the entire evening. Oh my gad it was the longest date ever! I kept asking for the time and constantly checking my phone.

I WAS MISSING MY BABY SO BADLY I CAN’T EVEN!

Throughout the movie, I was contemplating on ways I can get out of the cinema without the Mister knowing, silently drive the car to my mom’s and grab my son and drive back to the cinema and sneak him in so I can hold him forever and ever and after.

Oy. I have a bad case of separation anxiety.

I can’t imagine how am I going to be when I’m back to work. Argh! Just the thought of it makes me want to dig a hole and scream NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Bloody hell. Is there a way I can be a stay at home mom and still earn what I earn at work? While I’m at it, double my current income? Hello? Is there a genie somewhere bored out of his wits that wants to grant wishes on mothers with serious separation issue?

I love my son to bits. I’ve never felt this much love for anyone in my entire life and at times my heart feels like it’s about to burst with all the love it contains for my sweet baby.

I love everything about him. To me, he’s a perfect example of what love should be. He can never do no wrong. Even when he gives exploding stinky smelly poops, he’s still cute and adorable. And all I want to do is hold him close to me every second of my life because I know, soon, I’ll start work and I won’t have the chance to be with him during the day.

And because of this, I broke one rule that has been drilled to every new mother since the very beginning of time. Yes, even during the cavemen time. Folks, brace yourself. I’m about to confess my sin – I CARRY MY SON 24/7 AND PICK HIM UP EVERY TIME HE CRIES.

There.

Women everywhere has been admonishing me about this and I still keep doing it. They said it would spoil him.

Well…

1) I don’t care, and
2) THAT’S A LOT OF BULL!

“There are a lot of benefits of keeping baby in close physical contact. Contrary to what we have been taught to believe, research shows that babies who are held and carried all the time and get their need for touch well-met in their first year do not become clingy and overly dependent. They cry much less and they grow to become happier, more intelligent, more independent, more loving and more social than babies who spend much of their infancy in infant seats, swings, cribs, and all the other plastic baby-holding gadgets that don't provide babies with human contact.” Excerpt from The Natural Child Project.

There. My instinct was right.

I got so fed up with people telling me off about carrying my baby that I bought books and spend hours online to read up about it and HAH! New mothers out there, take my words: ALWAYS, ALWAYS TRUST YOUR INSTINCT. If your guts tell you to do something entirely different from the oldwives ways, do it. Our instinct is our primal guide and there are times where you must trust your subconscious to make the decisions.

From the time of his birth till now, I have been carrying him. Even when we sleep, I hold him in the crook of my arm. He sleeps better and longer when I hold him. I made a mistake by listening to people that he must learn to sleep independently by putting him in his crib and I guess that explains why he was sleeping badly last few weeks. Well, that, or the fact that his sleeping pattern hasn’t been properly adjusted yet. But once I started to hold him again, we sleep longer and peacefully.

Yes, carrying him around does hinder my movement and daily activities. That is why I have been looking high and low for a comfortable sling. I can’t find any in Miri so if you know where I can get one, online or anywhere else, do tell.

My baby changes everyday and he will only need me in this way for such a short time. Carrying him close while I can is my way to enjoy him. I can feel the warmth of his skin; his calm breath rising and falling, and the looks upon his little face when he sleeps and his smiles. Carrying him brings an intimate bond between us that I will carry with me for the rest of my life.




What's Brewing in My Kitchen


In the midst of everything (by everything I mean BE RIGHT BACK MY SON JUST SPIT SOMETHING NASTY AND HOLY PURPLE MACAROONS IT’S ALL OVER HIS NEW SHIRT WHERE THE HELL IS HIS NAPKINS OH MOTHER OF ALL &$@#! SON, PLEASE STOP THRASHING AROUND EEK EEK EEK! IT’S NOW IN HIS HAIR SOMEONE HELP ME!!!!) I managed to find time to cook myself something.

Few nights ago, I made this:



Potato & Mushroom Gratin.


I got this recipe from the Goddess herself, Nigella Lawson. I bought her book FINALLY AFTER SO LONG OF WANTING IT NEXT WILL BE JAMIE OLIVER’S 30 MINUTES SHITNOT I CAN’T REMEMBER THE TITLE.

Verdict: Délicieux! The Mister loves it and asked me to cook it again but THE BABY! THE BABY! I SMELL SOMETHING FROM HIS BUTTHOLE! GAAAAH! IT’S LIKE SOMETHING DIED IN HIS DIAPERS! OPERATION CLEAN BUTT ON THE MOVE! OY! OY! OY! STOP FLAILING AROUND! GAH! I HAVE HIS STOOL ALL OVER MY NEW BEDSHEETS! OH CRY ME A RIVER! So, yeah, I was pretty busy.

And after reading that poop incident I can guarantee no one wants to cook or eat this dish at all. But I’m a very sick person. Here’s the recipe. Go nuts.

Ingredients:
3 average size potatoes
350ml full-fat milk
2 x 15ml tablespoon butter
2 teaspoons garlic oil (I used veggie oil and garlic powder instead)
250g chestnut mushroom –finely sliced
Salt and pepper to taste (I used chicken stock instead)

1. Preheat oven to 220C and butter a shallow baking dish or gratin
2. Bring the sliced potatoes and milk to boil in a saucepan, season with salt and pepper to taste and stir occasionally, then leave at a simmer while you get on with the mushroom.
3. Warm butter and oil in a frying pan over a medium high heat. Add the mushrooms and cook, stir occasionally until softened (about 3 minutes)
4. Pour the mushrooms and their garlicky butter juices into the pan of potatoes, stir to mix and pour straight into the gratin dish. Bake in the oven for 45 minutes or until crisp on top.
5. Eat with roasted chicken or just like that.


Enjoy!



Maternity/Baby Bump Photography


Can’t remember when was the last time I took portrait photography. Maybe it was during the reign of the dinosaur. It felt THAT long. What’s worst, I can’t even remember the function of the buttons on my camera. Oy. That’s b-a-a-a-a-a-d…

You see, m sister asked me to photograph her 7 month pregnant self and I was like, sure, bring it but when the day arrived, I was fumbling around with the camera and I gotta say I didn’t produce satisfying result.

These two were my best. Out of 100 snaps and these two are it. PATHETIC.




I'm just glad she's photogenic. If not... [CLOSE BOTH EYES][FACE PALM]








Cheers to the FREAKING FREEDOM! Thank God IT'S OVER 44 DAYS!




SEE THAT SMUG ON MY FACE? YA SEE THAT? THAT IS ME WAVING GOODBYE TO CONFINEMENT WITH BOTH MY MIDDLE FINGERS!

I'M FREE! NO MORE CONFINEMENT! 

AYAYAYAYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYYAYAYAYYAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!!!!!


Next: Gotta get rid of all the baby weight.
Mission: Get back my ideal weight- 48kg. That's shedding 10kg, dude! That monstrous thighs gotta go!


Oh. Here's a bonus for you readers out there. Kaisan giving an awesomeness b boy move. Awesome.









Houston, we have a problem.


I knew I jinx it bad when I admitted to people that Kaisan has been sleeping well at night whenever I was asked about his sleeping pattern. Yes. Yes. Even when I don’t blog about his USED-TO-BE-EXCELLENT-SLEEPING TIME, I do talk to people in daily basis. Can’t blame me much coz THEY ASK! DON’T ASK AND I WON’T ANSWER!

I should’ve lied or just smile instead of crowing in delight that my first-born allowed us to sleep at least 4 hours at night.

And now, the power of Karma is kicking me in the rump for my obvious conceit. I’m paying the price. Such. High. And. Torturous. Price. To. Pay. Indeed.

It has been almost a week now that he wakes up at 2am or earlier and stay awake till morning and slowly turning me into the creature of the night like he is.

His routine is simple. Wake up whimpering for milk at 2am – feed him with his usual meal (breast milk + formula) – burp – trying to put him back to sleep –fail – he gleefully laugh at his parents idiotic attempt to sing him a lullaby at 3am – so let’s play for a while – he started to feel bored coz he have the attention span of a gnat– cry – carrying him around the room to lull him to sleep – takes about, oh say 2-3 hours and finally sleep – put him down his crib – eyes instantly WIDE open and OH NO YOU DIDN’T JUST PUT ME DOWN WOMAN PICK ME UP AGAIN WAAAAAAAILL! WAAAAAAILL! – Carrying him around the room to lull him to sleep – takes about, oh say 2-3 hours and finally sleep – put him down his crib – eyes instantly WIDE open and OH NO YOU DIDN’T JUST PUT ME DOWN WOMAN PICK ME UP AGAIN WAAAAAAAILL! WAAAAAAILL! Repeat this step for at least 50,000 times until 8am.

The Mister usually would take the morning shift (5am onwards) while I run the graveyard shift (midnight till 5am). I would crash for an hour when the Mister takes over but as soon as he leaves for work, my shift starts again until the next day.

In the daytime, MOST of the time he sleeps. And this is the time I try to catch some sleep but house chores demands me to do my duty and so, I can only manage to sleep maybe an hour or so. And then he wakes up JUST AS MY HEAD TOUCH THE PILLOW.

I don’t know how am I going to manage if this keeps on when I start working. I will definitely dead as a doornail at the office if I have to stay awake the whole night, taking care of a baby who thinks he’s a bat.

So, here I am, standing here, asking you, the Internet, advices on what can I do to change my son’s jetlag so he can sleep at night and allow me to be as sane as I possibly can?

Help?




I'm glad I'm Asian? I think? I am?


By Bigwowo.com





In case you haven't notice...


... I have a new blog layout!




Instead of me pulling my pancreas and suffer the agony of coming up with a new blog design, putting up with viral HTML/XML coding and shit, I get the highly talented Krafty Palette at kraftypalette.com to custom made it for me. So happy! No suffering at my side. So relieve!

And I hope my super sweet ADHD is behaving for as long as it can coz when it started to run amok and twist my arms and shove me up in a freezer to demand I change the blog layout AGAIN, I swear I CAN'T EVEN! *ahem* Hi new readers! Welcome! Did I mention I have a monkey craze ADHD stored in my head? No? Welcome to hell.

Bai!

Cliché for the day: Time sure flies.


It has been a month plus since the birth of my young padawan. Watching him grow from a tiny, red-faced infant to a slightly-bigger-than-tiny, semi red-faced somewhat-older-a-tad-bit infant is priceless.

As the memory of my ghastly pregnancy experience is slowly fading away, I know this very moment with my son will also fade as time goes by. That is why I lessen my time on the Internet. The most I would do is just to read blogs I subscribe when he’s asleep. I even cut down my online games to only twice a day and each time maybe spend 10 minutes or less (just to keep me sane).

Time is much more worthy to be spend with my lil’guy. He will never be one month old again. He’s growing everyday, come up with new tricks everyday, feature changes everyday and develop personality of his own everyday. And all the money in this world can never turn back times or even buy me all these moments to be relived all over again.

Ohshitimbeingsoemoliciousinthispost! There goes my reputation.

Of course, at this stage, he sleeps a lot. Sometimes I take the opportunity to sleep too. But most of the time, when he sleeps I do laundry, cooking, cleaning and so on. And all these house chores, take ridonkulous amount of time!

That also explains why I’MSORRYIHAVEN’TREPLYSOMANYEMAILS! Including emails from advertisers. Shit me. I am so in the run for the Olympic Gold Medal of Blogger Who Ignores Monetizing Her Blog –under stupid female category.

If I haven’t said it before, I’ll say it now: I’m lucky to be married to the Mister.

I know what you’re thinking. And you’re right. I said it more than a gazillion million times already before. And you’re thinking, “Shut it, woman! Come up with something new to be grateful about! This is getting old!”

But I am truly ever so happy and grateful I have the Mister as my husband. He helps me a lot during my confinement and at the same time, keeps me from turning into a cactus and pricks everyone with my lack-of-sleep edginess [DID YOU JUST SAID I LOOK LIKE A PANDA? OH NO YOU DIDN’T! HOLD MY MASSIVE EYEBAGS!].

Aside from that, he’s also an awesome possum kick-ass father who changes diapers like a ninja, able to calm Kaisan’s cries by just holding him on his shoulder, brew yummilicious formula/milk that knock our baby to sleep for hours, clean and run errands like a pro. If he were a character from a movie, I would say he’s Superman. If he tries hard enough, he can even bend a spoon. I swear. Oh wait. That’s Matrix.

It’s nice to know that the cavemen traits still exists in this modern world. Men scout for food, women at home caring for their young ones. And along the many, many decades, men develop few more other traits such as cleaning, cooking and even wipe baby’s ass! Dear single women out there -don’t go for looks. Go for hairy cavemen. Trust me. You won’t regret it.

Just for the record, I’m not going to talk about Kaisan’s daily ritual. I know how the Internet works. Today I praise him silly about his long naps and good moods and next thing you know; tomorrow, BAM! He’s cranky and sleeps only for 5 seconds. So no. Not gonna murder myself senseless with this old trick in the book. I’m on to you, Internet. I know your game [squint eyes menacingly]

That’s all, folks. This mother of all Jedi needs to check on her padawan. Ciao!




1 month old. WHAT?! Dear Time, SLOW DOWN!




"I look down into your eyes and feel you tugging at my breast but it feels like you're tugging my heart"
~Unknown

He's the sweetest, most lovable, funny, awesomely cute little mushroom nugget monkey bunny baby ever. And we decided to keep him. For good. That is until he's 18 or coming home with 99 different piercings on his body. Whichever comes first.




P/s I'll TRY to post something tonight. I owe it to you guys who had been here for me through thick and thin, with your generous supports and advices. But no promises though! I said I will TRY.



FAB FRIDAY! Photos of us together FINALLY!






Two things:

1) I need to teach my son how to camwhore like a pro

2) We look disgustingly good together


P/s That's my natural hair color and Kaisan inherited my light brown hair. WIN!









Confinement and Me; An Epic Battle


Before I give birth, people have been telling me what a bitch confinement is. The bitter and plain food, the many rules and restrictions and of course- the boredom. They wished me luck and looking forward to see me come out of my confinement alive and kicking like a horny goat.

But I said, “Na’ah. I’ll be fine. I like confinement food. In fact, I cook it for my everyday meal. And staying indoor for 44 days? Pfft! Piece of cake. I can entertain myself easily at home”

I swear if I have a time machine, I will go back to that exact moment I utter those ever-so-cocky statement and SLAP. MYSELF. HARD. REPEATEDLY. UNTIL. I. SAY. CONFINEMENT. SUCK. MONKEY. NUTS.

Imagine doing and eating the same thing E-VE-RY-BLOODY-DAY FOR 44 DAYS. It can drive any INSANE person to go CRAZIER!

A week in my confinement I was already planning on ways to jailbreak my iConfinement.


Food

In every food I eat, there is always GINGER. GINGER. GINGER. GINGER in it. Porridge with ginger. Chicken with ginger. Beef soup with ginger. Herb drink with ginger. I swear my fart smells like burn ginger. I don’t have to elaborate here the “goodness” (so I was told…) of ginger coz you can Google it but seriously, I’mma burn ginger farm with my flame thrower (Once I get my hand on one that is…)

I know not being able to drink cold water would be the death of me and I was HALF right. I survived. As a matter of fact, drinking hot/warm water is the EPITOME OF SHIZNITS. Buuuuuuuuut… watching the Mister gulping cold soda in front of me does bring out the psychotic killer in me.

There are a lot of things I can’t eat now I’m in confinement. One of my favorite foods that are ban from my everyday meal is – BELACAN! (Shrimp paste) The other day, my mom cooked kangkung masak belacan for the Mister and I almost slice my wrist when she flicked my forehead as I scoop a spoonful of the dish into my plate [INSERT SALIVATING FRENZY BULL DOG IMAGE][INSERT ANOTHER IMAGE OF MY TONGUE HANGING 4 METERS ON THE GROUND REACHING THE TIP OF MY TOE][INSERT ME SLOBBERING IN TEARS AND SOBS]


Traditional Medicines

The first two weeks of confinement, I hired an expert confinement lady to take care of me. She massaged my whole body, cooked GINGER INFESTED FOOD, bath and sauna me in herb water, made me my herb drink twice a day, assisted me in my traditional wrap (bengkung) and helped me with household chores also bathing lil’ Kaisan.

Having her around made it easy for me to rest. Without her, I wouldn’t know shit about all the traditional herb drink/bath/food that I must take during my confinement. I thought by wearing the bengkung and watch what I eat was enough but apparently this traditional confinement is trickier than rocket science.


I have no idea what this thing is called but it is used to cook my herb drink

I can’t say I have much love towards all the herb drink she asked me to drink but I drank it anyway without questioning it. I know. The drink is so black and thick with God knows what herb that even if she add crush cockroaches in my drink, I wouldn’t even know and declare it healthy for my womb [GAG!] But I cheated a bit when drinking the ever so bitter herb drink. I added honey in it and tada! Taste much, much better [Troll face]

Look! Sparkles in my drink!

Confinement Rules and Regulation

1. Cover thy hair/head all the time

No can do, José. Headband or head wrap gives me major migraine. I can only wear it less than an hour so I had to forgo this rule.

2. Wear socks all the time

Again, no can do. My water retention didn’t go away as fast as I thought it would. My feet stayed swollen for 2 weeks after giving birth and when I wear socks, my feet swell into a camel’s hump size. And what’s worst, I had world craziest ingrown toenail and was so painful with pus and all (Oh did I ruin your dinner?), I rather face another caesarian than the excruciatingly painful nail digging into my flesh every time I move. So scratch this rule too.

3. No cutting nails and hair

I had to get the Mister cut my ingrown nail while howling in pain.

4. Do not shower thy hair

Pfft. Are you insane? I have super sensitive scalp with oil glands the size of a penny. I sweat A LOT and my hair gets greasy faster than you can say, “HOLYFUCKINGBATSHIT IS THAT PROFESSOR SNAPE ON YOUR HEAD?” Of course I washed my hair. And of course I get scolded many times by the confinement lady and not forgetting my mom. Of course I ignored them and washed my hair again the next time they massaged my head with coconut oil and made me as greasy as Lenny Kravitz.

And many other exciting rules and regulations that I didn’t follow much coz I’m awesomely useless like that. I know it’s for my own good but honestly, is there a scientific proves that says doing all of the above ensure perfect health after 44 days? Besides, it’s not like as if I’ll turn into Jessica Alba after 44 days of following all the strict rules right? Right? Right? [Echoes]

I'm not questioning the tradition. Maybe there is medicated truth in all the things they asked me to do but I'm just the type of person who can't abide strict and stifling rules. Balqiz, the confinement rule breaker. I will be famous for that.

That's all for now. Kaisan's crying for milk. Ciao!







 

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