Beauty in Chaos

End of the year, and *facepalm* can't believe my last post was in June!

But if I were to fill in the gap between June to December, let me tell you it's filled with boring routine mumster, mid-life stories.

I think life have become pretty standard (ZzzZzzzZz): Come back from office, pick cheeky-boo Daniel up from the nanny's, stuck in traffic, rendam the vegetables, defrost the meat, feed Daniel his dinner porridge while watching TVB drama, wash him up, cook the rice and cuts up the dishes while watching my son delightfully open-close-open-close-open-close the washing machine before pressing on all the buttons on the (read: destroying), and many times goes inside the washing machine to see if papa's sock or mum's panties still stuck in the roof (my machine is side-loading). Then, I feed my boy some fruits puree, read him some fire engine and old Macdonald's farm animals, while letting him watch some BabyTV (Billy Bam Bam is my son's favourite). When papa's back, I will dump my son to him, run straight to the kitchen to cook a bunch of chinese delicious (subjective) cuisine for 2 pax.

His favourite grand-uncle and grand-aunty aka babysitter's family.

I will go upstairs and get a shower while my son watches me happily playing peekaboo at the bathroom door with his naked mama. Daniel will be saying "chak, chak", squinting his eye signaling (hurrying) me for a feedback of chakkks, smiling widely. He dare not go into the bathroom (kena scold before, and he knows he shouldn't), but will surely cry if  I had to have a peekaboo intermittent because you tell me lahh how to chakkk with shampoo on my face ok. He absolutely hates peekaboo intermittent, and I must do this chak-chak-chak thingy in my whole 10 min in the shower. Papa will be left alone at the kitchen doing all the dirty dishes and then makes his fruits/vege juice with the juicer. Then, when my son sleeps at exacly 9.30pm, I will handwash all his clothes. If you are asking, yes, I still handwash my baby's clothes every damn blardy night since he was born. I can be such an OCD piece of shit sometimes. 

Peekaboo!

As a mum, I don't know how to compare (btw, we shouldn't compare our kids), but Daniel is definitely a textbook baby.  Meaning, his developmental milestones are exactly as what you google month-after-month in BabyCentre or WebMD. He is quite predictable and easy to take care! My mum said arr, not me.

He has been speaking a few words which are meaningful - put, take, give, "tit tit tit" when he holds the Astro remote controls and points it to the tv, "mai" (Hokkien for 'No'), "puyaoo" (Mandarin for 'No'), "yallooooo" when he puts the phone to his ears, "cat-cat" when he sees a cat in the book, or real cat. "Nennen"&"Mam mam", if he wants milk/food and "Papa" are his first ever words. 

He still can't say "mummy" yet to his kiasu mummy although he's with me all the time, manja and playing with me. Sux wei. And of course, he has been getting more and more talkative bablebablellele babbles baa booo goo gaga aiyooh sumida all day, and I believe my son was a Korean guy reincarnate.

He is already holding his own milk bottle himself to drink, and I swear I was delighted because less one task for the parents with an independent child. LOL! Can marry him off already lah. Can. Hahaha.

After work, I try to take him to the playground nearby.

After 14 months, I realised how my son has changed me. I am born like this: over-dominating, big headed career woman, ever the high achiever at whatever I try/do even though I am not talented in it, reads 4 books a month, perfectionist-bitch, and quite kiasu. But when my son is born (also when I met my husband), I find it easier to let go of certain things. I find it easier to let go of perfection. I let people take care of my son and close one-eye in many things, while I catch a movie alone, go for a facial, takes 1 year to finish 3 books, not making the bed, living in a untidy hall, bedroom, etc. This is because I don't want to be trapped in the cycle of woman-doing-every-thing-in-the-house-and-takes-care-of-children-too-and-earns-a-bunch-of-salary-back-home. I don't want to do everything for the household or my family. And want people to help me. I allow my hubby to help me out in anything he can (no matter what tasks), not caring about the outcome, let my son fall down and bump his head, let my son eat hair, food he picked up from the floor, let my son eat junk food and kacang puteh, loads of sugary vitagen (vitagen keeps him quiet in the car and when I watch TVB drama), let my floor be dusty for a week, forgot to wash the vegetable and cook it, simply cut the vege, the eggs are hangus, the meat is hancur, Really, nevermind, Because I feel quite happy being imperfect!

His coconut hair-do. It makes him look cute, but I cut the unruly hair off to be ready for CNY..

He can be quite a good boy. Often listens to us and afraid of scolding. A bit sensitive (like Papa)/

Going kai-kai is his favourite past time.

He loves flipping books, but also enjoys his BabyTV and unexpectedly, loves to watch Berita (the RTM version)

Sorry, but bash me all you want you breastfeeding advocates, but the KEY to my current happiness was: Stop breastfeeding. There!

Gosh, I felt so liberated once I stopped bf because I hate that my son keep latching to me and I have absolutely no farking time to do any farking thing. I honestly hate the pumping regime both at home and at work, and I can't focus on my work or meetings. When I want to do some work/experiment, suddenly I need to pump. Soooo mah fun! After 6 months of essential breastfeeding, and when my son seemed to love solids more than breasts, I was extremely happy to quit the pump and that fugly bra. He was unhappy too because he kept getting scolded for biting my boob tits when he latches (6 months already got 4 teeth ok). He frustrated, I also frustrated. Without breastfeeding, Papa also get to play a role in feeding his son, and at least this empowers the man to hold the feeding bottle and do the feeding. More than 3/4 of Daniel's feeding now is Papa's job. And I have sooo much time after that. Sleeping also felt sooo good for 8 months already. I wake up a happier person each morning because I have good sleep every night with my son sleeping through without waking up hungry. I don't like that feeding goes exclusively to the mother. Don't like. Period. Btw, my son holds the feeding bottle himself and feeds all 7 ounces already! Both papa and mummy are proud of his independence, plans to marry him off soon). :-P

Semakin kaypoh

Fell from the bed and got his first manhood bruise.

His favourite Thor hammer. He fought well <--bruises everywhere.="" td="">

Truth: I wished I was a high-milk-supply-mum, so then I can pump like 100 bottles a day and leave them to the dad/nanny to feed. But obviously I am not. I am a low-supply-kais-pagi-makan-pagi milk supply mum and my son is a big eater and cries every time after breastmilk because still so hungry, so that's why it's not conducive for me to continue breastfeeding. Again, it's all in the mind(!), and when I purportedly tell myself that I hated breastfeeding cause it wasted a lot of my goddamn time, milk definitely didn't come anymore (yay! no more leaky breast). However, when I wanted to quit, I went to upset to depression because people that idk (the internet, forums) trying to throw such formula milk mums down as a "bad mums". Perfectionist, high-achiever you may think I am, but this is one thing I am willing to give up for the love of MYSELF. No breast milk after 6 months, but my son is still alive and kicking and cuter than ever....but that is because I have great genes, kan....

Manja boy. Always golek around me, hug and kisses me frequently. I miss him daily when I am work.

Well, blink blink eye, it's Christmas:

My 5-foot Christmas tree is up, my son dare not touch it after I warned him once only. Good dog boy. He was such a menace initially, but now will just say out loud: "WAHHHHhhhhHH" if I point him to any Christmas tree in the mall or at home, and absolutely dare not touch any ornaments on our tree. Because perfectionist mummy here doesn't like heterogeneous placing of ornaments; the OCD me loves exact spatial placing of ornaments and symmetry. :-P

This year 2016 is awesome in many ways. I am optimistic about next year: career-wise: I hope the crude oil price will bounce up further; the ringgit will strengthen so that I can go more overseas holiday with my two boys, and I hope that my family and friends will be happier and achieve what they aim for. And lose weight.

<--still can="" p="" t.="">

Happy holidays and Happy New Year!

Doing naughty cheek face to his cousin sister, Amanda.

Love you both!

Milestones. Check.

So this is what motherhood does to you eh. No time to even blog. My last post was like what..3 months ago?!

Truth: I really miss blogging (=leisure writing) besides writing work-related reports. Being a working-mum and without any help from own mum, MIL, a maid or not even a part time maid actually does sucks. I have NO TIME. When I say I have no time, I really mean no time for myself.

Note: Hubby is my biggest helper and supporter at home. My hubby is not like what you expect from any popular urban myth that describes husband as coming back home from work, puts up his legs on the table, reads the paper, waiting for your warm, home-cooked dinner and TV remote on his hands. Nope, nope. When he returns from work, he helps me wipe my son's butt, bath him, feeds him, boils water, sterilizes, makes pear, apple and vegetable puree and freezes them, takes out the garbage, cuts fruits for me, does the dirty dishes, and brings me out for dinner if I burn my meals. [Check] (for choosing the right hubby).

And since today's Mother's Day with my active baby who don't give a shit about what it is, it's okay: my hubby celebrated with me by bringing us out to eat wanton mee! Ok watt....this wanton mee shop got aircon ok. Nevertheless, our Mother's Day festive mood was (expectedly) destroyed by my son's urge to scream (happy, joyful kinda screaming) and pee pee out of his diapers (don't ask me how his dick can escape his diaper) in the middle of slurping my yummy wantan soup.

Truth: the wanton mee is really delicious ok. First Mother's Day 2016: [Check].

In the wanton mee shop. Don't know want to scold or not, shout happily like sakai. The more we say "Shhhh sshhh", the more he happy and scream again. Malu oi...

Daniel just turned 7 months old. And I am still alive to witness his milestones aplenty. I mean, I thought I would have turned into a zombie by then, but hallelujah, my brains are still functional, I can walk straight, and still like eating wanton mee (and not human brains). [Check].

He absolutely loves solids of any form. Mummy makes porridge with vege (e.g. pumpkin, spinach, carrots, sweet potato, etc.) every evening and he gobbles them up all for 2 meals a day like a velociraptor. He is a velociraptor since young anyways. Pear puree is his absolute favourite. [Check].

He is always, always happy. Check. Don't ask me why he's always happy but he really, really is happy. I don't like to praise my child (some people say pantang), but sometimes I do wonder why he smiles and laughs all the time (a good thing, right?). Little bit, little bit also laugh. I say something not funny with a straight face also he laughs. Grandma say he gives away his smiles too easily, so now very cheap di. LOL. But hello, mind you, if he ever cries, the cry can be heard up 'til the next street.

I do nothing also he can laugh. Tak paham lah, mummy.

Laugh laugh laugh all day long, dunno why. Cheap laughs. :-P

He is very active, and his limbs are particularly strong. His legs always give one hell of a powerful kick on tables, on chairs, and anywhere his feet touches. He yanks up and jumps all the time! I think he wants to stand more than crawl *sweat*. He was born with sturdy bones and not the flimsy, soft type you expect of a baby. He fell down also don't cry wan. I do hope one day he is a sportsman (ahem: triathlete) and hope the sun can make him darker. He's a bit too fair for a boy. lol. [Check]. 

"My legs are so strong, I need to jump around and stand up all the time. I hate sitting."  

BTW, he likes sitting on babysit in the car. Makes mummy's life easier when going to babysitter's place every weekday. That baby car seat also like macam kena spike with some kind of sleep potion. He SLEEPS every single time I put him on that carseat! Daniel loves his babysitter and family. On many occasions  he didn't want to get into mummy's car after work. Boo huhuhu. Nevertheless, I actually do want him to love his babysitter and this indirectly proves that his babysitter takes good care of him. [Check].

As a working mum and no helper at home, my daily routine now makes me so damn bloody tired. Everyday after work around 5.30 pm, corporate mummy becomes stinky, sweaty mummy: Fetch Daniel from babysitter - cook adult's dinner (almost daily!)-cook baby's porridge-bath baby-feed baby-play with baby-switch on BabyTV on Astro-handwash baby's clothes-make baby nap-etc.

Thank God he has a 'schedule', therefore his behaviour is easy to predict - time to eat, time to sleep, time to play. 

I sometimes cry inside on why my life is so bad - no money to hire maid, no helper, no one to clean my house; I am fat and can only exercise once a week now, and why my life not mewah, Why didn't I choose and married a rich hubby? Soo poor thing this Ivy Chai, made poor decisions in life, now suffer like mad. My life is so difficult with a house and son she can't manage by herself. My son sometimes roll on his pee pee, I pick up toys that has drop onto the oily restaurant or kitchen floor and forgot to clean it for a week. I pick up porridge that fell onto the floor but shove it with a spoon back to my son's mouth cause don't want to waste. I no money to buy nice toys for him, so his favourite toys are my remote control, and waste papers, crispy old receipts, golf ball.  I no money to buy organic food for him to eat. Chia seed...what?!, *rant rant rant rant*

Truth: I say this ONLY when I can't handle my child and dinner. Mummy sometimes needs to vent marr and reflect on life. The Larger truth: No regrets marrying my hubby. He is a man that I dare say, of highest integrity (pantang say. hehehe). He is my helper and never complain once (really never, a polar opposite of myself). He loves my son to the moon and back. He does his own ironing(!) and laundry *phew* and see Paragraph 3 for more info. Middle class people in Klang Valley is like dat lah. With our salaries combined, we are both captain planets of our home.

Thank God also for MIL and my mum that always gives me meat and homegrown vegetables for a month's worth of home-cooked dinner.

Thank you my Mum, my MIL, my Hubby and my son that makes my 'suffering' all worth it.

Baby here 6 months old with the best hubby in the world, really. Sorry I always complain and mang chang.

Ivy-out.