Term break at last.
I forfeited my previous term break and taught throughout (that was in March) because I wanted to save up some holidays for more crucial times of the year. Most of my students didn't go anywhere that week because it was only one week of holidays, and so their parents agreed to bring them for classes. Looking back, while it was certainly a fruitful week, I don't think it was kind - at least to myself, the teacher. By April, especially towards the recital and beyond, I was burning out fast. I was growing very resentful towards the kids who habitually do not practise (and parents who think that it's the teacher's responsibility to keep them on track regardless of their commitment). Hyperventilating out of great annoyance has been a common phenomena of late. Good grief! It is a wonder that my hairs haven't turned white yet.
And then May arrived.
I am so thankful that the term break has begun, for my sanity's sake. It began with a lot of meet-ups with good friends from near and afar; it will conclude with a family vacation. Needless to say, time will fly past because we're having fun and soon, the term break will be over. But I hope to make every moment count and so, I am even blogging - which I haven't done in a while.
Anyway, a side-note...
The other day, an ex-student of mine texted; said that she was moving house and she had two boxes of piano repertoire for lower grades up to ATCL; wouldn't be needing those books ever again, so would I please have them?
Those of you who read my previous post know that I might be resigning from my job at the music school end of this year; this happened right after I informed my bosses. (By God's grace, they were open about it despite our short-handed situation.) My ex-student's offer seemed to point me to the fact that I will always be a music teacher somehow, and ultimately, God's musician. So, don't feel like the world will leave you behind even if you have to step out of the teaching scene again, for a while... "For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways...for as the Heavens are higher than the Earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts..." (Isa. 55:8, 9). I was struck by the irony of my situation; here I was worrying about the practical aspects of my resignation: will I be OK as a stay-at-home-mom again? Where will the money come from? How will my portfolio look? Will I be able to work from home? Will my employers be furious? Etc. But God, who has all the answers, only acknowledged so very kindly the fear deep down inside my subconscious - the fear that I would be a nobody... forgotten, left behind, and looked down upon.
Indeed, to obey God is better than well-meaning and even pious-looking acts that ultimately serve self.
Showing posts with label Stay At Home Mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stay At Home Mom. Show all posts
Tuesday, 30 May 2017
Tuesday, 16 May 2017
Change
Many of us are terrified of change (yours truly included). I'm not talking about coins and petty cash - but having (again) to move from the familiar to the unfamiliar and sometimes unknown. With the new comes the nostalgic pining for the old, a struggle to hold on a little more to today, a sort of tentativeness, and yet you want so much to believe that one day things will fall into place. Will they?
It has been a comfortably predictable life of late. Sure, my work can be very stressful and emotionally draining. But it also means that I get to put Sophie through Pre-K and daycare with my earnings and contribute to the family's financial needs. Sophie has been doing fine in school so far and a routine has been established. Well then, the backdrop changed all of a sudden (more about this some other day) and everything is looking different now that I have to prepare mind, heart, body (yes!) and soul to be stay-at-home mom once again after Christmas. Where will all that money come from? Will Sophie still be able to go to school? How will my portfolio look? Will I be able to work from the home? Will my employers be furious? (Admittedly, I'm rather indispensable in our shorthanded workforce at the moment.) Etc. God alone has the answers. I will have to trust Him and allow Him to hem me in behind and before (Ps. 139:5).
But something truly encouraged me today. This:
"By faith Abraham, when he was called, obeyed by going to a place which he was to receive as an inheritance; and he went out not knowing where he was going. By faith he lived as an alien in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, dwelling in tents with Isaac and Jacob, fellow heirs of the same promise; for he was looking for the city which has foundations, whose architect and builder is God." (Hebrews 11:8-10) A few things are especially striking to me: Abraham obeying when he was called; God's promise to bless him and Abraham's absolute certainty of receiving the blessing that he was willing to sojourn in that unknown, foreign land; and his anticipation that God would establish what He has promised. Let go and let God, indeed.
A little early, I suppose - but what will the New Year bring?
It has been a comfortably predictable life of late. Sure, my work can be very stressful and emotionally draining. But it also means that I get to put Sophie through Pre-K and daycare with my earnings and contribute to the family's financial needs. Sophie has been doing fine in school so far and a routine has been established. Well then, the backdrop changed all of a sudden (more about this some other day) and everything is looking different now that I have to prepare mind, heart, body (yes!) and soul to be stay-at-home mom once again after Christmas. Where will all that money come from? Will Sophie still be able to go to school? How will my portfolio look? Will I be able to work from the home? Will my employers be furious? (Admittedly, I'm rather indispensable in our shorthanded workforce at the moment.) Etc. God alone has the answers. I will have to trust Him and allow Him to hem me in behind and before (Ps. 139:5).
But something truly encouraged me today. This:
"By faith Abraham, when he was called, obeyed by going to a place which he was to receive as an inheritance; and he went out not knowing where he was going. By faith he lived as an alien in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, dwelling in tents with Isaac and Jacob, fellow heirs of the same promise; for he was looking for the city which has foundations, whose architect and builder is God." (Hebrews 11:8-10) A few things are especially striking to me: Abraham obeying when he was called; God's promise to bless him and Abraham's absolute certainty of receiving the blessing that he was willing to sojourn in that unknown, foreign land; and his anticipation that God would establish what He has promised. Let go and let God, indeed.
A little early, I suppose - but what will the New Year bring?
Friday, 15 April 2016
Teaching my toddler a second language
I am a little embarrassed to admit....
... that my mastery of my supposed mother-tongue - Chinese (which includes Mandarin, Cantonese, Hakka, etc., etc.) - is sub par. To be fair, my parents did speak Mandarin to me when I was little. And I watched many Hong Kong TVB Cantonese dramas on television. However, my parents prioritised English in the family once my sister joined our family (I was about 4) and the rest is history. I speak and write in English. I think in English. I dream in English.
Therefore, I am not going to attempt teaching Sophie Chinese. I tried a little. But NAH.
The whole family (including my in-laws) have somehow fallen into the habit of speaking English to Sophie. Unless she overhears Ben and I conversing in Cantonese - which we often do - it has been English all the way from birth (with a smattering of Hokkien and Mandarin). Manglish too - although I tend to avoid it like plague.
Nevertheless, I have decided to teach Sophie a second language for the sake of a different cultural perspective, stretching her mind, and broadening her horizons. A foreign language. Something a little closer to the Chinese language/dialects just so that it won't feel too much like I'm uprooting her Chinese roots (at least to her Chinese relatives). Something that I am more proficient at so that I can speak it with her at home.
Guess which?
Anyway, this is how I am going to do it for now:
1. Active speaking and role-playing
2. Direct translation of the English words she already knows
3. Language games
4. Incorporating the language into daily routines - a bilingual running commentary of everything, wherever possible
5. Reading picture books
6. Videos (if I find good ones)
7. Flashcards (if necessary)
Here is to an exciting journey ahead for us.
... that my mastery of my supposed mother-tongue - Chinese (which includes Mandarin, Cantonese, Hakka, etc., etc.) - is sub par. To be fair, my parents did speak Mandarin to me when I was little. And I watched many Hong Kong TVB Cantonese dramas on television. However, my parents prioritised English in the family once my sister joined our family (I was about 4) and the rest is history. I speak and write in English. I think in English. I dream in English.
Therefore, I am not going to attempt teaching Sophie Chinese. I tried a little. But NAH.
The whole family (including my in-laws) have somehow fallen into the habit of speaking English to Sophie. Unless she overhears Ben and I conversing in Cantonese - which we often do - it has been English all the way from birth (with a smattering of Hokkien and Mandarin). Manglish too - although I tend to avoid it like plague.
Nevertheless, I have decided to teach Sophie a second language for the sake of a different cultural perspective, stretching her mind, and broadening her horizons. A foreign language. Something a little closer to the Chinese language/dialects just so that it won't feel too much like I'm uprooting her Chinese roots (at least to her Chinese relatives). Something that I am more proficient at so that I can speak it with her at home.
Guess which?
Anyway, this is how I am going to do it for now:
1. Active speaking and role-playing
2. Direct translation of the English words she already knows
3. Language games
4. Incorporating the language into daily routines - a bilingual running commentary of everything, wherever possible
5. Reading picture books
6. Videos (if I find good ones)
7. Flashcards (if necessary)
Here is to an exciting journey ahead for us.
Wednesday, 17 June 2015
The end of my breastfeeding journey
Yups, this is it.
Bittersweet.
I guess I should look forward to the brighter side of things...
No more ratty, lumpy, spineless nursing bras... and perhaps, I would be able to sleep bra-less again. Woohoo! (Sorry, if it's TMI.)
No more bringing the pump on family vacations and scheduling our activites around my pumping times. No more figuring out how to store expressed breastmilk whenever we are away from home and our trusty refrigerator.
No more pumping. Period. No more pump parts and storage bottles to wash. No more midnight pumps. Hopefully, this also means that we will be able to arrive in church on time on Sundays because I will no longer be too tired to wake up in the mornings and there will be no pumping on Sunday mornings. I will finally be able to eat breakfast on Sundays.
With smaller boobs (again TMI), I will be able to fit better into my clothes, assuming that I haven't expanded in other places. I've gotta get me some new dresses too.
No more having to watch what I eat, just in case Sophie gets wind/allergies from what goes into the milk... or lest my milk supply dips. Wine? No problem. Beer? No problem. Cabbage? No problem. Pseudoephedrine? No problem. Junkfood? Here I come. Mangoes? I will eat all the mangoes I want.
No more cracked and bleeding nipples. No more blood stains on bras. No more painful blocked ducts that necessitate consuming those abominable-tasting lecithin granules. No more painful boobs, unless it's due to menstrual hormones. (TMI)
I can finally stop having weird food cravings in the middle of the night and go to sleep instead of eating away guiltily. (But wait, I will have no more excuse to splurge on my favourite desserts!)
Looks like it's goodbye to my pumping journey too.
Well then, it has been a wonderful journey, despite all the blood and sweat (literally). I thank God for the grace and pleasure of having been able to provide breastmilk for Sophie for 13+ months, especially when I am an EP mom. I never thought that I would be able to come this far. Never thought that I would have the strength to persevere either.
To the dear friend(s) who suggested that I pump instead of giving up on breastfeeding entirely when I was having so many problems directly latching Sophie in those early days, thank you. To my community of pumping and DL-ing mummies, thank you for your encouragement. To my husband, who helped out all he could so that I could do my EP-ing duties well, thank you. To those who helped me with Sophie whenever I needed to pump, thank you.
Hello, life-after-breastfeeding. Here I come.
Bittersweet.
I guess I should look forward to the brighter side of things...
No more ratty, lumpy, spineless nursing bras... and perhaps, I would be able to sleep bra-less again. Woohoo! (Sorry, if it's TMI.)
No more bringing the pump on family vacations and scheduling our activites around my pumping times. No more figuring out how to store expressed breastmilk whenever we are away from home and our trusty refrigerator.
No more pumping. Period. No more pump parts and storage bottles to wash. No more midnight pumps. Hopefully, this also means that we will be able to arrive in church on time on Sundays because I will no longer be too tired to wake up in the mornings and there will be no pumping on Sunday mornings. I will finally be able to eat breakfast on Sundays.
With smaller boobs (again TMI), I will be able to fit better into my clothes, assuming that I haven't expanded in other places. I've gotta get me some new dresses too.
No more having to watch what I eat, just in case Sophie gets wind/allergies from what goes into the milk... or lest my milk supply dips. Wine? No problem. Beer? No problem. Cabbage? No problem. Pseudoephedrine? No problem. Junkfood? Here I come. Mangoes? I will eat all the mangoes I want.
No more cracked and bleeding nipples. No more blood stains on bras. No more painful blocked ducts that necessitate consuming those abominable-tasting lecithin granules. No more painful boobs, unless it's due to menstrual hormones. (TMI)
I can finally stop having weird food cravings in the middle of the night and go to sleep instead of eating away guiltily. (But wait, I will have no more excuse to splurge on my favourite desserts!)
Looks like it's goodbye to my pumping journey too.
Well then, it has been a wonderful journey, despite all the blood and sweat (literally). I thank God for the grace and pleasure of having been able to provide breastmilk for Sophie for 13+ months, especially when I am an EP mom. I never thought that I would be able to come this far. Never thought that I would have the strength to persevere either.
To the dear friend(s) who suggested that I pump instead of giving up on breastfeeding entirely when I was having so many problems directly latching Sophie in those early days, thank you. To my community of pumping and DL-ing mummies, thank you for your encouragement. To my husband, who helped out all he could so that I could do my EP-ing duties well, thank you. To those who helped me with Sophie whenever I needed to pump, thank you.
Hello, life-after-breastfeeding. Here I come.
Monday, 6 April 2015
Happy Easter!
Amidst celebrating the resurrection of our risen Saviour, our daughter surprised us with a stunt.
 |
| Climbing in and out of her cot on her own |
The first time she climbed into the cot on her own, we weren't prepared because we just weren't expecting her to succeed - and succeed she did. She stood on the edge of our bed, pulled herself over the rails like she had been rock-climbing all her life (perhaps she trained secretly on her own while we weren't watching), and somersaulted into the cot before the eyes of her shocked speechless parents. She was as cool as a cucumber while she did it too. Thank goodness, there were loads of cushioning inside and no hard toys out and about. Also, luckily, she was climbing in and not climbing out. Having tasted the joy and victory of her new accomplishment, Sophie is savouring her new thrills - scaling new heights (literally) wherever and whenever she finds the opportunity to do so. I am trying to get used to the idea that my baby will be attempting crazier things soon. Perhaps, I will finally get to grow some white hairs.
Easter. Resurrection. Knowing Jesus has risen should inspire one to live like He did rise from the dead. To live a hope-saturated life. I need that hope to permeate especially one area of my life right now i.e. motherhood. I don't know how I became Sophie's mom. I don't know why it's Sophie whom we conceived. I don't feel like I am worthy of being her mom - I feel like she deserves a much better mom than myself. And many times, I beat myself up for not being as adequate a mom as I would like to be to her. However, if GOD has chosen me to be Sophie's mom and no other, then I pray that I might not only be given to strength and grace to mother her (whatever "mothering" should mean), but also the strength and grace to persevere with faith-led hope and discipline my thoughts whenever I feel low and terrible about myself, my mothering skills, and my worth. I don't want to have to keep comparing myself to other mothers, my mother-in-law, and my own mom. Because Christ has risen (which proves that God is real and His Word is true), I should trust Him and His sovereignty in enabling me to nourish a baby and entrusting me with the precious person Sophie is. "Faithful is He who calls you, and He also will bring it to pass" (1 Thess 5:24). He never calls the qualified, but He qualifies those He calls. Perhaps I am terrible at cleaning soiled bottoms, multi-tasking, and putting her to bed at night... and I know I am. Haha. Also, I don't exactly enjoy housework especially when it involves loads of laundry and milk-stained bottles to wash. I tend to leave those at the bottom of my to-do list. But still, I would like to enjoy being to Sophie what no other can be to her. Yeah, I wonder what.
Anyway...
Rambling aside.... may you have a blessed Easter, folks!
Wednesday, 4 March 2015
To enjoy motherhood
R asked me yesterday: "What do you pray for yourself when it comes to motherhood?"
I said, "Many things... but most of the time, wisdom."
"Wisdom is important," she quipped, thoughtfully. "But I thought of something just as important, if not more. Ask God to help you to enjoy motherhood."
Bingo.
I love Sophie to the moon and back - but recently, or more than recently, I have been struggling with deep-seated anxiety each time I have to manage her alone... or bring her out of the house on my own. My greatest fear is that I would have zero control over a given situation - e.g. an emergency, a tantrum, a cranky baby due to a missed nap, an unexpected fall, the non-existence of a clean changing room, my precious baby pooing in her nappy, or germs. Yes, germs. I might not have full-blown OCD necessitating medication and all, but I am obsessed over the germs, bugs and bacteria in public places (especially toilets and changing rooms). I bring Dettol wet wipes wherever I go, whether on my own or with my baby - and I avoid bringing Sophie to hawker centres, mamak stalls and places which are known to have less than immaculate hygiene. I gravitate towards "safe places". I keep having urges to wash my hands with soap throughout the day. (I am currently recovering from rash on my palms from too much hand-washing.) Whenever S drops a toy on the floor of the restaurant, picks up tiny, unidentified objects from her crawling expeditions on the floor (even at home), or licks tables (golly-schmolly), I'd get a panic attack that is seriously not funny. It feels as frightening and suffocating as one of those panic attacks that I used to get by virtue of my eating disorders whenever I was forced to eat something off my list of "safe foods". Although I try not to react too vigorously or be overzealous in cleaning, for Sophie's sake, I can feel my heartbeat accelerating and my fight-or-flight responses turning on. I freeze in the face of emergencies.
Sophie's go-out diaper bag just burst at its seams this month, because I kept over-stuffing it with spare diapers, creams, wet wipes, toys and etc. Even I would admit that we hardly ever need everything on each trip. And I keep wondering how my mom (when we were kids) hardly brought anything with her whenever we went out!
Hmmmmmmm.... :'/
Helppppppppppppp!!!!
It is no wonder that I am so exhausted after every family trip or outing. Exhausted to the point of depression, really.
Was I like that before I had a child? Yes and no. Yes - I already had moderate issues with germs, hygiene, organisation, numbers, bizarre fears (for example of walking on grass), rigidness, intrusive thoughts, overzealous introspection, overanalysing relationships and such. I tried my best to step away from these - and I made conscious choices on what thoughts/behaviours to curb. Healing from my eating disorders helped; in the healing process, I recognised that I had always entertained many irrational fears - and was able to, by God's grace, identify other non-food/non-weight related fears in my life. But there was no child in the picture, then. Now, I am sometimes afraid that I might project my fears unto my child or affect her negatively by my behaviour. I am also unsure if my symptoms are hormonally triggered - because something's different about them post-partum, for sure. I don't think that my struggles are all too severe, compared to anything I've read on the sufferings of other OCD mums, but I wouldn't want S to grow up in the shadow of my issues. God, please.
Well, something has got to change for certain. My husband told me (when I confessed this to him) that first, I would need to learn to "play by ear" more instead of planning so much. And let go.
Why does that sound emotionally challenging?
Anyway...
You can imagine that OCD tendencies are taking a toll on my enjoyment of motherhood.
And so I agree with R. I need to pray that God would help me to enjoy motherhood. To enjoy outings and our time together, rather than being distracted by the unfounded fears that I allow into my system. To know what matters and what doesn't. To let go of my obsessions and dull myself to the impulses to act on compulsion. To learn some spontaneity and well, if I need to plan so much, to plan to be spontaneous. To relax. To know that it is ok to be anxious but not to allow anxiety to cripple my mothering instincts. To take chill pills. With God, all things are possible.
I said, "Many things... but most of the time, wisdom."
"Wisdom is important," she quipped, thoughtfully. "But I thought of something just as important, if not more. Ask God to help you to enjoy motherhood."
Bingo.
I love Sophie to the moon and back - but recently, or more than recently, I have been struggling with deep-seated anxiety each time I have to manage her alone... or bring her out of the house on my own. My greatest fear is that I would have zero control over a given situation - e.g. an emergency, a tantrum, a cranky baby due to a missed nap, an unexpected fall, the non-existence of a clean changing room, my precious baby pooing in her nappy, or germs. Yes, germs. I might not have full-blown OCD necessitating medication and all, but I am obsessed over the germs, bugs and bacteria in public places (especially toilets and changing rooms). I bring Dettol wet wipes wherever I go, whether on my own or with my baby - and I avoid bringing Sophie to hawker centres, mamak stalls and places which are known to have less than immaculate hygiene. I gravitate towards "safe places". I keep having urges to wash my hands with soap throughout the day. (I am currently recovering from rash on my palms from too much hand-washing.) Whenever S drops a toy on the floor of the restaurant, picks up tiny, unidentified objects from her crawling expeditions on the floor (even at home), or licks tables (golly-schmolly), I'd get a panic attack that is seriously not funny. It feels as frightening and suffocating as one of those panic attacks that I used to get by virtue of my eating disorders whenever I was forced to eat something off my list of "safe foods". Although I try not to react too vigorously or be overzealous in cleaning, for Sophie's sake, I can feel my heartbeat accelerating and my fight-or-flight responses turning on. I freeze in the face of emergencies.
Sophie's go-out diaper bag just burst at its seams this month, because I kept over-stuffing it with spare diapers, creams, wet wipes, toys and etc. Even I would admit that we hardly ever need everything on each trip. And I keep wondering how my mom (when we were kids) hardly brought anything with her whenever we went out!
Hmmmmmmm.... :'/
Helppppppppppppp!!!!
It is no wonder that I am so exhausted after every family trip or outing. Exhausted to the point of depression, really.
Was I like that before I had a child? Yes and no. Yes - I already had moderate issues with germs, hygiene, organisation, numbers, bizarre fears (for example of walking on grass), rigidness, intrusive thoughts, overzealous introspection, overanalysing relationships and such. I tried my best to step away from these - and I made conscious choices on what thoughts/behaviours to curb. Healing from my eating disorders helped; in the healing process, I recognised that I had always entertained many irrational fears - and was able to, by God's grace, identify other non-food/non-weight related fears in my life. But there was no child in the picture, then. Now, I am sometimes afraid that I might project my fears unto my child or affect her negatively by my behaviour. I am also unsure if my symptoms are hormonally triggered - because something's different about them post-partum, for sure. I don't think that my struggles are all too severe, compared to anything I've read on the sufferings of other OCD mums, but I wouldn't want S to grow up in the shadow of my issues. God, please.
Well, something has got to change for certain. My husband told me (when I confessed this to him) that first, I would need to learn to "play by ear" more instead of planning so much. And let go.
Why does that sound emotionally challenging?
Anyway...
You can imagine that OCD tendencies are taking a toll on my enjoyment of motherhood.
And so I agree with R. I need to pray that God would help me to enjoy motherhood. To enjoy outings and our time together, rather than being distracted by the unfounded fears that I allow into my system. To know what matters and what doesn't. To let go of my obsessions and dull myself to the impulses to act on compulsion. To learn some spontaneity and well, if I need to plan so much, to plan to be spontaneous. To relax. To know that it is ok to be anxious but not to allow anxiety to cripple my mothering instincts. To take chill pills. With God, all things are possible.
Wednesday, 11 February 2015
Sophie's diaries : 9 months old
We have lost count of the number of times Sophie bumped her head or fell down in the last month. I won't say that we've gotten used to it entirely. Yet.
Today, she continues to attempt creatively dangerous stunts - stunts which if unsupervised lead to more hard knocks, heartrending howls and heartbreak (for her parents). Counting my blessings, I should be glad that she's shown herself to be an active, adventurous and determined little person. She knows what she wants, is very decisive in getting what she wants, and is focused while she is at it. I just pray that we might figure out how to harness such strengths to guide her well towards seeking God's Kingdom passionately with her gifts.
We are also hearing more and more of her voice nowadays. Apart from voicing out her opinions about the world firmly and decidedly, she laughs heartily and expresses her surprise, delight, and dislikes without reservation. Sometimes, she yells in anger too, but we are not encouraging it, of course. Her favourite consonant so far is "b/p" - and she rehearses it everyday, pairing it with the vowels that she can manage to utter at present. As for the words that she understands even though she can't pronounce them yet, she proves to us her comprehension by pointing us toward the right pictures and objects that describe them - for example "ball", "pillow", "bottle", "fish", "hand", etc. Or performing the actions that such words command - for example "shake", "roll", "clap", "come" and etc. I do think that she understands what "NO" is - but she isn't very good at obeying us when we say "NO" at this point. Haha. She smiles when we parrot her baby babble and shakes her head vigorously at us, as if to say, "No, that doesn't sound quite right!"
Recently, I discovered that I can make her stop talking when I look her directly in the eye and go "Sshhhhhh" with my pointer over my lips. I must establish this command soon. It is very important, I think. :P
Some of her newest fascinations include: trying to stand up on her own (of course, she hasn't arrived yet), tearing paper, pulling objects out of a bag, finding ways to crawl into the kitchen (a prohibited area), grabbing spectacles off our faces (already broke a pair belonging to her dad), big board picture books, checking out our ears, watches, clocks small enough to hold in her hands, fridge magnets.... and getting up in the middle of the night to touch the wall behind our bed headboard.
Food. The steamer is rapidly becoming my good friend. I use it to steam fish, chicken and vegetables. Basically, if you have a steamer, blender and slow cooker in your kitchen, you probably would have everything you need to cook for a baby - I think. Having introduced Sophie to fish, avocado, yogurt and lots of different fruits (tropical and non-tropical) in the first few months of solid food, we have been doing chicken and vegetables in the last month.
I personally think that this food journey is very exciting! Perhaps, it is because I love cooking.
Milk-wise, my production took a dramatic dip since a mysterious, flu-like illness last week. I am so exhausted trying to squeeze out (if you are an EP mom under tremendous pressure to perform, you'd understand what I mean) those much-needed drops of milk from the udders and power-pumping alone in the night. Condition has only improved very slightly, but I choose to be thankful. I am also thankful that Sophie's a little more receptive to formula milk now. Since last week, we've replaced 2-3 breastmilk feeds a day with FM (it used to be just once a day to get her used to the taste, in anticipation of weaning) - we'd mix a feed and chill it in the fridge a while in order to suit her princess fancies. (She loves cold milk.) But at the same time (of course), it makes me rather emotional to watch her drinking it. Don't get me wrong - there is absolutely nothing wrong with FM. I grew up on FM and I am the wonderful person I am now. (My best friend even thinks that I am smart!) However, as a breastfeeding (or breastmilking to be more exact, in my case) mom who has been lactating for the past 9 months, watching my baby grow accustomed to FM while I struggle to meet her demands on my side does pinch. I should be thankful, I know. It's just that... why do I feel like I am about to lose my job as the cow? Being a cow was something I felt I could do consistently well (compared to other tasks of motherhood) - but it seems that this security blanket might fail me soon. *Sobs*
Anyway.
Ok, Sophie. Mummy prays that you'd continue to blossom in God's grace. Happy 9th month, sweetheart!
Food. The steamer is rapidly becoming my good friend. I use it to steam fish, chicken and vegetables. Basically, if you have a steamer, blender and slow cooker in your kitchen, you probably would have everything you need to cook for a baby - I think. Having introduced Sophie to fish, avocado, yogurt and lots of different fruits (tropical and non-tropical) in the first few months of solid food, we have been doing chicken and vegetables in the last month.
I personally think that this food journey is very exciting! Perhaps, it is because I love cooking.
Milk-wise, my production took a dramatic dip since a mysterious, flu-like illness last week. I am so exhausted trying to squeeze out (if you are an EP mom under tremendous pressure to perform, you'd understand what I mean) those much-needed drops of milk from the udders and power-pumping alone in the night. Condition has only improved very slightly, but I choose to be thankful. I am also thankful that Sophie's a little more receptive to formula milk now. Since last week, we've replaced 2-3 breastmilk feeds a day with FM (it used to be just once a day to get her used to the taste, in anticipation of weaning) - we'd mix a feed and chill it in the fridge a while in order to suit her princess fancies. (She loves cold milk.) But at the same time (of course), it makes me rather emotional to watch her drinking it. Don't get me wrong - there is absolutely nothing wrong with FM. I grew up on FM and I am the wonderful person I am now. (My best friend even thinks that I am smart!) However, as a breastfeeding (or breastmilking to be more exact, in my case) mom who has been lactating for the past 9 months, watching my baby grow accustomed to FM while I struggle to meet her demands on my side does pinch. I should be thankful, I know. It's just that... why do I feel like I am about to lose my job as the cow? Being a cow was something I felt I could do consistently well (compared to other tasks of motherhood) - but it seems that this security blanket might fail me soon. *Sobs*
Anyway.
Ok, Sophie. Mummy prays that you'd continue to blossom in God's grace. Happy 9th month, sweetheart!
Wednesday, 26 November 2014
Sophie's diaries: Potty training
We began potty training our baby this month... because... let's face it, since solid foods were introduced, poo imprisoned in nappies has become the messiest affair ever (even more so now that nappy changes are furious wrestling matches between the baby and the adults). Even messier than before.
At this point, we aren't too particular about S emptying her bladder into the potty all the time. It's the poo that we are more concerned about.
How we're doing it: (1) We'd try to catch her "in action" whenever it happens. I'm still trying to develop an intuition to her go-goes, read I-am-so-going-to-poop-now in her facial expressions and work on not making too much fuss when she's in the go-go mode (coz she doesn't like us to know that she's doing it and would sometimes hold back). Sometimes, she'd be nice and say, "Mmmmm" when she needs to go. (2) Whether or not she poops, I make her sit on her potty right after her first milk feed every morning. This is in order to establish some sort of regularity in bowel movements (via conditioning) as well as the timing of her go-goes. (You see, I am afraid of her go-going while we're out - or say, at church!) She did it very coolly and calmly today. Turned back to half-smile at me too. I hope that she would continue to excel in this. I'm setting a life habit, yo!
Whether or not she uses the potty successfully, we give her alot of affirmation and consolation.
That's it for now, folks! We've got plenty of time from now till she gets shipped off to school to move her from nappies into knickers. Slow and steady wins the race.
At this point, we aren't too particular about S emptying her bladder into the potty all the time. It's the poo that we are more concerned about.
How we're doing it: (1) We'd try to catch her "in action" whenever it happens. I'm still trying to develop an intuition to her go-goes, read I-am-so-going-to-poop-now in her facial expressions and work on not making too much fuss when she's in the go-go mode (coz she doesn't like us to know that she's doing it and would sometimes hold back). Sometimes, she'd be nice and say, "Mmmmm" when she needs to go. (2) Whether or not she poops, I make her sit on her potty right after her first milk feed every morning. This is in order to establish some sort of regularity in bowel movements (via conditioning) as well as the timing of her go-goes. (You see, I am afraid of her go-going while we're out - or say, at church!) She did it very coolly and calmly today. Turned back to half-smile at me too. I hope that she would continue to excel in this. I'm setting a life habit, yo!
Whether or not she uses the potty successfully, we give her alot of affirmation and consolation.
That's it for now, folks! We've got plenty of time from now till she gets shipped off to school to move her from nappies into knickers. Slow and steady wins the race.
Wednesday, 5 November 2014
Missions project ends
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| A picture from the last batch |
Exhausted, I am.
Drawing in this very season of my life has been challenging, due to my state of mind as I wrestle with inner conflicts, mood swings, shifting priorities and stuff. I really don't know what could have kept me going if it weren't for the strength that the Author of our project availed me as I chugged through His Word (I am still in the Gospel of Matthew after 5 months, haha). I wonder if I will ever move on from being so jaded, and I guess I will, but I am thankful that He has enabled me to finish working on the project, in order that there could be a closure to this remnant of the previous season that has complicated my moving on in so many ways. No doubt, it has been a good experience while it lasted and I am comforted that my sacrifices would benefit the beloved little children who read the books that my team worked on - but boy am I glad that I am done, just when I was getting restless!
About half a year has gone by since our little sweetheart was born. In 4 days time, Sophie celebrates 6 months over. I, as her often-clueless, way-to-hard-on-myself mom am excited for a break from the stressful unease of pending assignments so that I can experiment with offering her solid food in the coming month.
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| Ok, maybe not what you see on the plate... |
Monday, 13 October 2014
Post-pregnancy and EDs
I haven't blogged about body issues for a while now - but I believe that those of you who have been following my blog (even since the Xanga or Grace Points days) know that I have a history of eating disorders which plagued me throughout my teenage and young adult years. I went to school, college and university with them. They tinged my happiest moments with shadows, my relationships with distrust and my readiness to live life to the fullest with fear. But they were who I was - or at least I thought so. You see, my eating disorders, tormenting as they were, gave me a sense of false security; They made me feel special, exceptional - like I was in full control of life when I was, in fact, never in control. I feared that losing them would mean losing my identity.
Lies. I believed in them. But thank God, my pursuit of Christ exposed them. As I encountered Him, I got to know the me I never knew. The me that could be so much more alive in Him. The me that was worth so much more than I thought - not because of anything I had done (or the way I looked), but because God, Creator of Heaven and Earth, had fashioned me as a masterpiece and provided for my reconciliation with Himself. The me that Jesus loves and died for. The me who had been slave to a master so much weaker than Christ and yet, one who had me in his chains because I was so deceived to think that they were the most beautiful things in the world. And the lies lost their appeal.
Having said that, it would be naive for any eating disorder sufferer to think that enlightenment, with regards to those lies, guaranteed an immediate return to life as it was before EDs. It does not. (And life post-ED will never be anything like life pre-ED. It is rather like losing your virginity - pardon the crude comparison, if it is.) Enlightenment is only the first step of a long journey - the evocative path of which meanders through a sort of wilderness, uprooting, testing and excavating. I don't know how any sufferer can finish the journey well without the rod and staff of the Shepherd (cf. Psalm 23) - I certainly couldn't have, myself.
Those lies may have lost their appeal. However, they do return in crafty ways and at one's most vulnerable moments - in attempt to seduce and catch a recovering sufferer off-guard. To paralyse and enslave again.
For me, they were around throughout my pregnancy. Thankfully, I was expecting them - and hence, by God's help (and the encouragement and prayers of the most important people in my life), they were stopped in their tracks. Besides, being pregnant with Sophie made me feel beautiful and pretty. I couldn't have given a damn.
Now that I am no longer pregnant, they lurk again in the air. They mock the flabbiness, the stubborn fat that has lodged itself in the most unflattering places, my inability to fit into my pre-pregnancy wardrobe and etc. They point me to the advertisements of slimming centers and "miracle" slimming pills - and they advocate the fad diets that celebrities subscribe to. While subtle, they also criticise the decisions I make as a mother - for example, to breastfeed my daughter (can't go on low carb diets or skip meals - what have you - when you want to breastfeed) and to be a stay-at-home-mom rather than pursue my ambitions (I do have quite a few which do not go with being a SAHM).
While I struggle, I do realise how important it is for me to stay close to the Lord so that I can have things in the right perspective.
While it would be nice, I do not need to be a size 8 (what I was before) to prove myself to the world.
I do not need a PhD to prove myself to the world. Neither do I need to be called "Doctor".
I do not need to be "out there", performing and being applauded, in order to be worthy of acceptance. God's acceptance in Christ is enough. Sophie's smile and excited cry when I pick her up are enough. My husband's tolerance of my quirks and admiration despite my eccentricities are enough. The enthusiasm of my closest friends over my new mama priorities is enough.
I do not need to be ill (with EDs) to be loved. God has blessed me with friends and family who love me even when I am unlovable.
I do not need to have EDs to be a somebody. I am a child of God.
Lies. I believed in them. But thank God, my pursuit of Christ exposed them. As I encountered Him, I got to know the me I never knew. The me that could be so much more alive in Him. The me that was worth so much more than I thought - not because of anything I had done (or the way I looked), but because God, Creator of Heaven and Earth, had fashioned me as a masterpiece and provided for my reconciliation with Himself. The me that Jesus loves and died for. The me who had been slave to a master so much weaker than Christ and yet, one who had me in his chains because I was so deceived to think that they were the most beautiful things in the world. And the lies lost their appeal.
Having said that, it would be naive for any eating disorder sufferer to think that enlightenment, with regards to those lies, guaranteed an immediate return to life as it was before EDs. It does not. (And life post-ED will never be anything like life pre-ED. It is rather like losing your virginity - pardon the crude comparison, if it is.) Enlightenment is only the first step of a long journey - the evocative path of which meanders through a sort of wilderness, uprooting, testing and excavating. I don't know how any sufferer can finish the journey well without the rod and staff of the Shepherd (cf. Psalm 23) - I certainly couldn't have, myself.
Those lies may have lost their appeal. However, they do return in crafty ways and at one's most vulnerable moments - in attempt to seduce and catch a recovering sufferer off-guard. To paralyse and enslave again.
For me, they were around throughout my pregnancy. Thankfully, I was expecting them - and hence, by God's help (and the encouragement and prayers of the most important people in my life), they were stopped in their tracks. Besides, being pregnant with Sophie made me feel beautiful and pretty. I couldn't have given a damn.
Now that I am no longer pregnant, they lurk again in the air. They mock the flabbiness, the stubborn fat that has lodged itself in the most unflattering places, my inability to fit into my pre-pregnancy wardrobe and etc. They point me to the advertisements of slimming centers and "miracle" slimming pills - and they advocate the fad diets that celebrities subscribe to. While subtle, they also criticise the decisions I make as a mother - for example, to breastfeed my daughter (can't go on low carb diets or skip meals - what have you - when you want to breastfeed) and to be a stay-at-home-mom rather than pursue my ambitions (I do have quite a few which do not go with being a SAHM).
While I struggle, I do realise how important it is for me to stay close to the Lord so that I can have things in the right perspective.
While it would be nice, I do not need to be a size 8 (what I was before) to prove myself to the world.
I do not need a PhD to prove myself to the world. Neither do I need to be called "Doctor".
I do not need to be "out there", performing and being applauded, in order to be worthy of acceptance. God's acceptance in Christ is enough. Sophie's smile and excited cry when I pick her up are enough. My husband's tolerance of my quirks and admiration despite my eccentricities are enough. The enthusiasm of my closest friends over my new mama priorities is enough.
I do not need to be ill (with EDs) to be loved. God has blessed me with friends and family who love me even when I am unlovable.
I do not need to have EDs to be a somebody. I am a child of God.
Friday, 10 October 2014
After a long blogging hiatus
First, my sister came to Penang. Only for a night though. Still, better than nothing.
Next, I had loads of work to do. And close to zero inspiration.
The following weekend, I fell sick. Tooth infection, a plugged milk duct leading to some mastitis, viral fever (unrelated to the tooth and milk duct) and stuff.
Consequently, I haven't had the time and energy to blog.
Anyway...
Our cheeky princess turned 5 months old yesterday.
About Sophie... She is blossoming a little more every day into an energetic and adventurous lady, who seemingly loves good belly-aching laughs, hugs and being cradled, traveling, exploring (she is one very curious baby - even the simplest things and places fascinate her ), swimming and er... gymnastics.
She never gives up on pushing her limits. Her determination puts me to shame. And burns calories. Hers and mine. *Sweat*
New developments... well, she just began sitting unsupported last week. She can also suck her own toes, hold two toys (one in each hand) simultaneously, hold a toy while flipping over, sit up by gripping my thumb with just one hand and pulling herself into a sitting position, give me a claw hand high-five (haha) and touch my face gently whenever I say, "Sayang mummy".
Stranger anxiety is a thing of the present. I guess it is a necessary phase that she would have to go through. Then again, she is not so anxious with certain kinds of people; and so, I wonder how she categorises strangers. Hmmm.
While being a stay-at-home-mom is tough (at least, for me), watching Sophie grow from strength to strength fills me with joy and gratitude. I am reminded, each time she turns a month older, of what Christ being our Emmanuel means. As He was Word made flesh, He yet makes His much-needed presence and gracious help felt in the daily ups and downs, through the most earthly means - good friends, doctors, texts, fellowship at church, family support, Friday afternoons to myself, etc...as well as trials. God is good, not because things are all good with me... but He is good and hence, makes all things work together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.
Thought I'd end by quoting Watchman Nee:
"If God leads you to walk a way that you know, it will not benefit you as much as if He would lead you to take the way that you do not know. This forces you to have hundreds and thousands of conversations with Him, resulting in a journey that is an everlasting memorial between you and Him."
Next, I had loads of work to do. And close to zero inspiration.
The following weekend, I fell sick. Tooth infection, a plugged milk duct leading to some mastitis, viral fever (unrelated to the tooth and milk duct) and stuff.
Consequently, I haven't had the time and energy to blog.
Anyway...
Our cheeky princess turned 5 months old yesterday.
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| Training her abs ~ |
She never gives up on pushing her limits. Her determination puts me to shame. And burns calories. Hers and mine. *Sweat*
New developments... well, she just began sitting unsupported last week. She can also suck her own toes, hold two toys (one in each hand) simultaneously, hold a toy while flipping over, sit up by gripping my thumb with just one hand and pulling herself into a sitting position, give me a claw hand high-five (haha) and touch my face gently whenever I say, "Sayang mummy".
Stranger anxiety is a thing of the present. I guess it is a necessary phase that she would have to go through. Then again, she is not so anxious with certain kinds of people; and so, I wonder how she categorises strangers. Hmmm.
While being a stay-at-home-mom is tough (at least, for me), watching Sophie grow from strength to strength fills me with joy and gratitude. I am reminded, each time she turns a month older, of what Christ being our Emmanuel means. As He was Word made flesh, He yet makes His much-needed presence and gracious help felt in the daily ups and downs, through the most earthly means - good friends, doctors, texts, fellowship at church, family support, Friday afternoons to myself, etc...as well as trials. God is good, not because things are all good with me... but He is good and hence, makes all things work together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.
Thought I'd end by quoting Watchman Nee:
"If God leads you to walk a way that you know, it will not benefit you as much as if He would lead you to take the way that you do not know. This forces you to have hundreds and thousands of conversations with Him, resulting in a journey that is an everlasting memorial between you and Him."
Tuesday, 19 August 2014
Tuesday the 19th
Attended a gathering today to discuss sermons and appreciate Scripture with a few of the MBTS alumni.
Left Sophie at my mother-in-law's place. She got to spend the whole day with her best grandma in the world.
It was refreshing for me to have listened to two full sermons without being distracted by a hundred and one things related to the baby, like how I often am at church - by for example, her restless fidgeting in the stroller (which leads to crying), the clock ticking closer and closer to her milk time, my nervous anticipation of her first I-am-hungry-oh-please-feed-me cry, chilly draughts, drool, puke, pee, poo and etc. Lunch right after with friends so dear to the heart was heart-warming... and the badly needed intellectual exercise felt good.
(Note: I do use my brain on a regular day. However, certain mental muscles have stayed too inactive for the past 3 months or so... I am certain that they were in danger of atrophying.)
I am glad that I went. I enjoyed myself.
But despite the "freedom" I enjoyed, I missed Sophie.
I even missed being distracted by the hundred and one things. Strange.
I would have liked to bring her along with me to the gathering, but decided (after much contemplation) that it would be a little too difficult on the both of us - and perhaps, the rest of the group too.
Well then... next time, maybe.
Left Sophie at my mother-in-law's place. She got to spend the whole day with her best grandma in the world.
It was refreshing for me to have listened to two full sermons without being distracted by a hundred and one things related to the baby, like how I often am at church - by for example, her restless fidgeting in the stroller (which leads to crying), the clock ticking closer and closer to her milk time, my nervous anticipation of her first I-am-hungry-oh-please-feed-me cry, chilly draughts, drool, puke, pee, poo and etc. Lunch right after with friends so dear to the heart was heart-warming... and the badly needed intellectual exercise felt good.
(Note: I do use my brain on a regular day. However, certain mental muscles have stayed too inactive for the past 3 months or so... I am certain that they were in danger of atrophying.)
I am glad that I went. I enjoyed myself.
But despite the "freedom" I enjoyed, I missed Sophie.
I even missed being distracted by the hundred and one things. Strange.
I would have liked to bring her along with me to the gathering, but decided (after much contemplation) that it would be a little too difficult on the both of us - and perhaps, the rest of the group too.
Well then... next time, maybe.
Tuesday, 12 August 2014
Sophie's diaries: 3 months and beyond
I guess it would make more sense for me to record her progress in terms of months and not weeks by now.
Sophie's third month ended with her flipping over on her own, with her head held high above the surface she is on (she delights in keeping it in position for ages), as well as her first bout of common cold. Ben and I are anxious - but we believe that God would take good care of her while she builds up an immunity to the virus.
Ben is especially guilty because he was sick throughout the weekend with a bad flu... Go figure.
I am hoping that my breast milk will flood her system with all the antibodies she needs.
Anyway, here are more pictures of her from the past month:
More blogging soon.
Sophie's third month ended with her flipping over on her own, with her head held high above the surface she is on (she delights in keeping it in position for ages), as well as her first bout of common cold. Ben and I are anxious - but we believe that God would take good care of her while she builds up an immunity to the virus.
Ben is especially guilty because he was sick throughout the weekend with a bad flu... Go figure.
I am hoping that my breast milk will flood her system with all the antibodies she needs.
Anyway, here are more pictures of her from the past month:
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| A way to keep her occupied while I do my work. I have given up working on week days - and now use my weekends to work instead. |
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| Some parts of my illustration work - all done during the weekend, when we sleepover at Ben's parents' home |
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| Flash cards for a change |
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| The day I took her out on my own - for the very first time. Nerve-wrecking. |
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| Had to reward myself with apple crumble after the stressful day out :P |
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| Timeout in the midst of grocery shopping at Tesco's ~ and Sophie falling asleep at her bottle |
Thursday, 7 August 2014
Muse: A picture's worth
Media often makes motherhood seem so glamorous.
The glossy pages of magazines, for example, feature celebrity (and non-celebrity) mothers nursing their babies with such poise. Elegant, sexy, strong, graceful and smiling like they haven't got a care in the world.
Well, perhaps they don't.
A picture of me nursing my baby at home wouldn't be quite so glamorous. Or airbrushed.
There would be sweat upon my browand perhaps sweat running down my cleavage. I would be wincing and struggling to latch my impatient baby onto her food source - pacifying her when she tries to drink and poop at the same time and finds that hard to manage. And my clothes - dear me - don't even start me describing them - old, shapeless and ratty things, for comfort's sake. (I am so going to burn those lumpy nursing brassieres when I stop milking for good!) Uncombed and tangled up hair - if it is the first feed of the day - or a few feeds more...
Now that I am pumping exclusively and feeding my baby bottled breast-milk, my picture would feature an Avent bottle, supposedly the most innovative and advanced in its design compared to other brands of bottles - and an inquisitive baby trying to grab my thumb, the one nearest to her nose... or twisting her head to peer across the room while sucking at the teat... or crying for reasons unknown.
Inevitably, there would be unwashed bottles in the background waiting to be washed whenever I find the time; loads of laundry to do; challenges in my marriage and the same ratty clothes and uncombed hair. Sweat and stuff, what have you.
There might even be poo stains down a leg. Like this morning. And some other mornings past, when Sophie's diapers were volcanic. And erupted.
Of course, there are easier days. Much easier ones. But not all are easy days.
I'd like to think that I am not the only mother in the world who looks like this in her picture.
Unglamorous and tiring as motherhood (and fatherhood) can be, it offers the most sacramental moments when we keep ourselves aware that God meets us, mothers (and fathers)... and reveals Himself to us even in the most humbling of circumstances, times and places. For me personally, I have not known before, God's love and grace, as much as I have ever since Sophie made me a mother.
I am not going to lie to you. While I'd love to paint you a rosy picture of my experience as a mother and give you the idea that I always have everything in order, I can't. I admire those mothers who can. It isn't all nice and easy for me being a mother - and although people say that it only gets better, I am not quite inclined to think so (call me a pessimist if you like), because every stage has its unique challenges to overcome. I might miss the poo stains when the time comes for me to face the demanding, moody and rebellious teenager that I was. The last three months have also certainly given me a taste of how lonely motherhood can be.
But I do love being a mother.
I do love being Sophie's mom.
Not just because there are so many joys worth celebrating as our little princess grows from strength to strength... and the sweet, treasured little things that I hope I would never grow to take for granted. Not just because I love to feel wanted, needed and oh so important to that baby human being. But because motherhood convinces me more than ever that Jesus Christ who died for the sins of the world is risen and alive.
As the Holy Spirit empowered Jesus on Earth to "...soar on wings like that of an eagle, run and not grow weary, walk and not faint" - all the way to the cross - He empowers me to do the same as I commit myself to broken nights, pump routines, poopy diapers and countless other demands of loving our daughter. He brings me to appreciate the Father's unfailing love for me and Christ's irrevocable work on the cross.... as well as to know God.
Perhaps, by realising that motherhood could offer such beautiful, sacramental moments, our pictures may feel different. Sublime in fact. With Christ, motherhood might still be unglamorous - but upon that unglamorous backdrop, an irresistible, tangible light shines and draws its beholder nearer to the invisible God present in each picture. With Christ, a mother may be lonely, but yet be most fulfilled, identifying with His sufferings, and comforted by His company, word and promises.
After all, it is a picture of Heaven meeting Earth. One which captures the overlap between the present on linear time and eternity. Simply because Jesus Christ has come, died, is risen and will come again.
A picture worth one's constant delighting over.
And so, if you, dear reader, happen to be contemplating motherhood... why not? :)
Note: this is my second week of taking care of Sophie on my own - and I am beginning to savour it despite the daily trials.
The glossy pages of magazines, for example, feature celebrity (and non-celebrity) mothers nursing their babies with such poise. Elegant, sexy, strong, graceful and smiling like they haven't got a care in the world.
Well, perhaps they don't.
A picture of me nursing my baby at home wouldn't be quite so glamorous. Or airbrushed.
There would be sweat upon my brow
Now that I am pumping exclusively and feeding my baby bottled breast-milk, my picture would feature an Avent bottle, supposedly the most innovative and advanced in its design compared to other brands of bottles - and an inquisitive baby trying to grab my thumb, the one nearest to her nose... or twisting her head to peer across the room while sucking at the teat... or crying for reasons unknown.
Inevitably, there would be unwashed bottles in the background waiting to be washed whenever I find the time; loads of laundry to do; challenges in my marriage and the same ratty clothes and uncombed hair. Sweat and stuff, what have you.
There might even be poo stains down a leg. Like this morning. And some other mornings past, when Sophie's diapers were volcanic. And erupted.
Of course, there are easier days. Much easier ones. But not all are easy days.
I'd like to think that I am not the only mother in the world who looks like this in her picture.
Unglamorous and tiring as motherhood (and fatherhood) can be, it offers the most sacramental moments when we keep ourselves aware that God meets us, mothers (and fathers)... and reveals Himself to us even in the most humbling of circumstances, times and places. For me personally, I have not known before, God's love and grace, as much as I have ever since Sophie made me a mother.
I am not going to lie to you. While I'd love to paint you a rosy picture of my experience as a mother and give you the idea that I always have everything in order, I can't. I admire those mothers who can. It isn't all nice and easy for me being a mother - and although people say that it only gets better, I am not quite inclined to think so (call me a pessimist if you like), because every stage has its unique challenges to overcome. I might miss the poo stains when the time comes for me to face the demanding, moody and rebellious teenager that I was. The last three months have also certainly given me a taste of how lonely motherhood can be.
But I do love being a mother.
I do love being Sophie's mom.
Not just because there are so many joys worth celebrating as our little princess grows from strength to strength... and the sweet, treasured little things that I hope I would never grow to take for granted. Not just because I love to feel wanted, needed and oh so important to that baby human being. But because motherhood convinces me more than ever that Jesus Christ who died for the sins of the world is risen and alive.
As the Holy Spirit empowered Jesus on Earth to "...soar on wings like that of an eagle, run and not grow weary, walk and not faint" - all the way to the cross - He empowers me to do the same as I commit myself to broken nights, pump routines, poopy diapers and countless other demands of loving our daughter. He brings me to appreciate the Father's unfailing love for me and Christ's irrevocable work on the cross.... as well as to know God.
Perhaps, by realising that motherhood could offer such beautiful, sacramental moments, our pictures may feel different. Sublime in fact. With Christ, motherhood might still be unglamorous - but upon that unglamorous backdrop, an irresistible, tangible light shines and draws its beholder nearer to the invisible God present in each picture. With Christ, a mother may be lonely, but yet be most fulfilled, identifying with His sufferings, and comforted by His company, word and promises.
After all, it is a picture of Heaven meeting Earth. One which captures the overlap between the present on linear time and eternity. Simply because Jesus Christ has come, died, is risen and will come again.
A picture worth one's constant delighting over.
And so, if you, dear reader, happen to be contemplating motherhood... why not? :)
Note: this is my second week of taking care of Sophie on my own - and I am beginning to savour it despite the daily trials.
Monday, 4 August 2014
Sophie's diaries: 12 weeks +
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| while being burped after a feed |
1. Sleep
We've finally established a bedtime routine. Hurray!
Ben and I tuck princess into bed at 10 o'clock or so nowadays - latest by 11pm. I am so glad and thankful that our persistence has paid off. It doesn't take Sophie long to fall asleep; she'd sleep for about 5-6 hours (she slept 8 hours yesterday night) before waking up for a feed, and then another 3-4 hours before her morning feed.
Sophie has her own pre-sleep rituals, it seems. She stretches, wriggles and hyper-extends her neck to one side (with the pacifier in her mouth) before she settles into REM mode... and a more reasonable sleep position. Sometimes, she would let out some happy, contented coos while performing the rituals. And smile.
Aww. Too cute.
However, there are also days when she skips the rituals and conks out within a few pats on her chest, an arm or a leg. A gracious phenomenon on the days when I am too tired.
Because she sleeps through the night, she now wakes up for longer hours during the day. It can be a challenge for me to find ways to keep her from boredom and the resulting crankiness. I am constantly moving her from room to room so that she gets fresh scenery, fresh surfaces to play (and fall asleep) on and fresh encounters with the familiar (toys, etc)... oh, as well as to avoid over-stimulation. I guess, it's a good time to start using those alphabet flash-cards a friend passed down to us.
2. Physical abilities
Sophie is able to sit up supported, with her head well-balanced upon her shoulders. She loves it when we prop her upright against cushions left, right, center. She'd be contented to lean back, suck her fingers (fist, actually) and watch the world pass by. Speaking of her fingers, she can now unclench her fists when we tell her to "open".
She is also able to roll over by herself - from supine to prone. However, as she is unable to roll back from prone to supine, she would shout out in terror and cry for help after a while on her tummy - and we would have to come quickly to her aid.
We are very thankful that she is growing so well. Praise God.
Thursday, 31 July 2014
Back from KL/Subang ~ and under house arrest...
Now, I am officially an SAHM - i.e. Stay At Home Mom.
I'll take this SAHM thingy as my main ministry for God's Kingdom for now (and many, many more years to come) - a primary calling which I received since I was little and revealed to few. I prepared for my SAHM role by um.... studying medicine and theology. :X ~ I must sound like a confused freak.
Never mind.
Anyway, my parents-in-law have left for home - and today saw me running around like a deranged orang utan - round the clock. Washing milk bottles and pump parts, doing the laundry, changing diapers, feeding baby Wong, burping her, cleaning up spills and spit-ups, pacifying the crying baby Wong, trying to get my drawing/illustration work done (unsuccessfully), expressing milk (via pump - and pumping with loads of adrenaline and stress hormones coursing my veins too, since Sophie was wailing while I was pumping and was therefore unable to be with her)... you name it. It felt a little like the Emergency Room rotation back when I was a medical student!
Of all days, Sophie had to be extra fussy today.
I was exhausted (not to mention lonely) - especially since we just returned from our trip yesterday evening. Couldn't have been more relieved when Ben came home from work! However... it was kinda fulfilling, I must say.
Praying that I would be able to get the hang of being SAHM soon.
Friday, 25 July 2014
Sophie's diaries: 11 weeks
For the record, I, Sophie's mom, will be help-less from the next week onwards.
My parents-in-law are leaving after spending nearly 3 months in our humble abode - helping us with their darling grand-daughter, housework and meals (dinner). I am hoping that I will be able to manage without resorting to the baby-sitting offers some have kindly availed us - what with work assignments coming in. You see, I am the stubbornly independent mother. It's a much nicer way to describe my pride.
However, I shall not speak too soon. Who knows? I might be grabbing up one of those offers once we return to our emptied nest after our family getaway to KL... Speaking of which, this will be Sophie's longest car journey yet. She has passed the 3-hours test so far. She gets to graduate to the next level - 4-5 hours in her car-seat next.
Good luck to us!
I am looking forward to seeing my side of the family again.
My parents-in-law are leaving after spending nearly 3 months in our humble abode - helping us with their darling grand-daughter, housework and meals (dinner). I am hoping that I will be able to manage without resorting to the baby-sitting offers some have kindly availed us - what with work assignments coming in. You see, I am the stubbornly independent mother. It's a much nicer way to describe my pride.
However, I shall not speak too soon. Who knows? I might be grabbing up one of those offers once we return to our emptied nest after our family getaway to KL... Speaking of which, this will be Sophie's longest car journey yet. She has passed the 3-hours test so far. She gets to graduate to the next level - 4-5 hours in her car-seat next.
Good luck to us!
I am looking forward to seeing my side of the family again.
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