I have no use for these anymore...not in Kuching anyway :)
Shoes…while you once stirred desires and quickened heartbeats you now merit only a passing glance, as I breeze past you on my sensibly-shod feet on the way to the baby’s department. Somewhere between the acquisition of a pair of hot pink sandals (which I wore to work when I ballooned up during pregnancy) and then boring but oh-so-comfy pair of flats (which is getting a lot of wear and mileage at work now) - incidentally both Clarks, a most glaring giveaway of my current fashion state of mind - Steve Maddens, Nine Wests and Fioruccis have lost their hold on me - heels, straps and buckles.
Designer bags…while you were once firmly in my sight (but alas not too many in my possession!), with the power to, someday at least, make me voluntarily squander my paycheck and still feel good about it (which makes these indulgences value-for-money), you now seem like such foolish extravagances. No amount of Prada or Chanel is going to make me a better mother, and besides, when I’m out and about with baby, who needs a Kelly, Madison or Sabrina when I have Allison?
Tech gadgets and gizmos…while you once induced a must-buy compulsion, you have been bumped from my wishlist. My inner geek is now satiated - I have all I need to keep up with the smartphone-toting colleague, the DSLRed shutterbug friend and the MacBook exhibitionist at Starbucks. I don’t need a new lens, when my value-for-money 50 mm prime is good enough to capture Allison in full glory!
On the other hand if you are marketing baby apparel, baby bath products, developmental toys, carriers, diapers, food…I am easy meat. ME! Ready to be seduced by the idea of safer, more convenient child-rearing (patented bathtubs! sturdy lightweight strollers! parabens-free wipes and bath foams! organic baby food!) and coerced into parting with hard-earned money for the promise of a brighter (first books!), happier (musical toys! activity mats!) and cuter (corduroy shorts! rainbow-hued tights! red leather “shoos”!) baby. Being a mother to a baby girl naturally confers an additional vulnerability to frivolous purchases.
I shop avidly, online and in-store. I’m not averse to buying from thrift shops selling BabyGap export overruns, neither do I deliberate before forking out a fortune for a fancy dress she’s likely to wear only occasionally before outgrowing it. I spend hours researching products online, comparing reviews and prices. I will never visit a mall without dropping by the baby section.
I represent a new demographic. If you target me and countless other young mummies like me, my guess is you won’t do too shabbily. New product? Bring it on!
For an occasion as momentous as Allison’s first Chinese New Year celebration, it sure was a let down.
For starters, she fell sick. Chinese New Year 2010 shall hereafter be known as The-One-Where-The-Baby-Lost-Her-Voice. Poor girl; spiked a temperature on the first day, coughed her lungs out and vocalized like a broken record on the second and struggled to breathe through her tiny obstructed nasal passages on the third. Oh, throw in an emergency room visit too. Still remained somewhat good-spirited despite the discomfort. Brave child.
Plan B took effect in lieu of A, the latter being dressing her up in a cute dress and taking her along to visit our friends. We had to leave her in the care of her grandparents instead, while we pigged out sans baby in several houses. I overdosed on cheese in my boss’ home (there’s the brownie with cheese, choc cheese, cheese cheese, and cheese BALLs…amusingly reminiscent of Forrest Gump’s best friend Bubba’s shrimp-this-and-shrimp-that scene) and still managed to return home to care for a sick baby.
I’ve had to return to work on the fourth day. The hospital was blissfully deserted, and parking was a dream. This of course IS the calm before the storm - any healthcare workers will attest to that. Just glad I won’t be on call next week to manage all the complications of over feeding and drinking!
So there, another CNY come and gone. The fireworks were spectacular though, always have been here in Kuching. I’d have enjoyed them more if the explosions in the sky hadn’t jolted my baby from sleep every 2 minutes.
We’re definitely going to return to our hometown for the celebration next year. The hunt for a baby cheongsam begins now!
Funky New Year do
Might it be conceited of me to call this barren period a “writer’s block”, when all that I am is just another faceless presence in cyberspace who thinks that she has something interesting to say?
Oh god, I think estrogen has wrecked havoc with my grey matter. It’s been about 6 months post-partum; I can fit into “slim-cut” jeans (”skinny” remains a delusion) again, but I’m finding it a struggle to put my thoughts into words. Hence the absence of new posts for the entire month of January and the first half of February!
The transition from full-time mother to full-time mother cum co-breadwinner - tell me, which mother isn’t a full-time one? - has been surprisingly free of tears and anxiety. Allison is in the good hands of her paternal grandparents, giving me little reason to worry about her well-being while I’m doing battle at work.
Ah work…I’ve missed it. Really. Sure enough, I’d never be important enough in my professional circle the way I am in my daughter’s eyes, but this is something I have to do for myself. Reach a little higher, push myself a little harder. It’s wonderful being in the company of intellects, for in their company you find yourself going the only way you’re supposed to - UP.
But apparently that’s still not enough to recover my “fibrate form”. Maybe all the merry making in the next few days will shake them brain cells out of hibernation.
Gotta go break open my bottle of Kahlua. Have a roaring Chinese New Year!
We rang in Y2K with wedding bells and bid farewell to the Noughties with the addition of a new member of the family.
And in between, found our true calling as practioners of medicine. Relocated several times, only to find ourselves back at the same place which has given us such immense personal and professional satisfaction.
Mustered enough courage to drive, a consequence of circumstances - more than a decade after obtaining my driver’s license, through legitimate means of course. No untoward incident if you exclude the one where I blew a tyre running over the sharp edge of a curb. Oops.
Foolish enough to believe I was in that sort of physical condition called for in scaling 2 unrestored sections of The Great Wall in winter. But I did, all 45kg of me plus my camera gear.
Spent a large portion of my waking hours (and paycheck, no less!) in the glare of the silver screen. Will remember the Noughties as the decade one movie franchise ruled us all - LOTR. Haven’t tingled with excitement of this magnitude since Return Of The King played.
Created an online presence by blogging and made some friends along the way. Don’t always have interesting things to say but some of you keep coming back anyway. Thank you 
Most of all, becoming a mother after years of nagging from concerned parties and unwanted speculation on my fertility! A most challenging role akin to an emotional roller coaster ride.
So long, Noughties. You’ve been good to us.
In my never-ending list of motherhood anxieties, flying with an infant ranks among the top 5. I see women traveling solo with their babies and wonder how they do it so effortlessly (AM, care to enlighten us?). You know, the sort that looks so damn good with child in one arm and diaper bag in another? That collapses/folds pushchair in one swift graceful motion without as much as breaking a sweat?
I know I’m not that woman so I had insisted for hubby to fly back from Kuching to accompany us on Allison’s maiden voyage across the South China Sea.
And she was such an angel! Which made my worries seem like a perfect waste of catecholamines. She pooped just before we left the house. Kept the cab driver waiting but oh this mummy was so relieved! Not looking forward to have her join the OTHER mile-high club. Strapped onto her carseat, she slept throughout the 90-minute flight.
Bless you, child!