Postcards of Frenship

I received a postcard today; it was from my dear fren Unhie. Since moving here, Unhie has sent me postcards regularly, every time she travels. And the first time I received her postcard, I have to say I was surprised.

We first met in French lessons, when I was leading the "childfree"-wife-of-MBA-student life. An avid fan of Korean drama, I eagerly tried my basic Korean on her. She left the lessons soon after, but somehow, we kept in touch and she became a good weekly lunch mate, perfect for one who usually just had to eat lunch alone.

It is probably because we both like company for lunch, we are Asians in a foreign country and so like more or less the same kind of food, and we do like to check out new eating places; whatever, the arrangement worked for us. And our friendship grew in these weekly one-hour lunch slots.

I used to think that strong friendships are only born out of time, that one needs years to add richness to it. Ours may not have the years to make it vintage, and perhaps precisely because we do not have the weight of the years, the friendship has an easy, airy feel to it.

To me, postcards is a romantic idea, a lingering vestige and a nostalgic, affectionate nod to snail mail in our modern age of electronic mail. It is something that is easy to buy, but also easy to leave in a drawer and become forgotten. But that is probably just me. And that is why I was surprised when i received the first postcard. And I am newly surprised again each time I receive a new postcard.

I used to think I was someone who spend much care and attention on my friendships, but Unhie has humbled me. The postcards may be unassuming little objects, but they speak volumes about effort and intention to me. This entry is dedicated to you, Unhie. Thank you for these postcards. They bring me a smile every time and brighten my day to know someone was thinking of me even when having fun in her travels. Thank for all the good fun times we had every time we hung out. But more than anything, thank you for your friendship - you are one of the cheeriest and quirkiest people I know - and for reminding me to make some effort and not take my friendships for granted (Well, you probably just wanted to send me a postcard with no teaching message, but that's the thinking person/teacher in me seeing it. Lol! ). And hey, keep those postcards coming! Love them! X :)

The Baby Poo Experience

Anyone who is not a parent will coil at the thought of changing diapers. Who knows what one may find?! There will be smells, and oh, if big business has been done, the diaper will not just be soggy, it will feel mushy... Eeewwwwww!

That was how I felt in my pre-motherhood days. And as much as I had frens who were already mothers then, I never had to witness or experience a diaper change. So, I understood perfectly how my sister felt the last time when she offered to watch Julien and let me have a lie-in and then found that she had a very filthy diaper to change when I was asleep. Unable to deal with it alone, she had gone to her boyfriend for reinforcements instead.

Oh yes, I understand, for I had done the same the first time I had to change Jules's diapers. It was a few hours after the birth in the hospital, when a midwife came to visit me, that she smelled the poo. Me, the hours-old mum smelled nothing of course. She was very kind and asked me if I wanted to do the change myself or wanted her help. Inside, I felt weak at the very prospect and to the midwife, readily accepted her help. (I think she could see my mental readiness was the issue, not so much me feeling weak after the birth!) And as I watched her at work, I felt a strangely marvelous sense of wonderment and went in my head, "So, that's how it is done..." My resistance and repugnance had simply melted away without my even noticing it.

Indeed, I am a vast improvement, as so is Daddy Low in this area - we can smell the diapers easily now. And if we are ever not sure, we do the trick that all seasoned parents do - we smell Baby at his diapers. I know, it sounds horrendous - who in their right mind would put their face in poo, even if there is a buffer of diaper in between your face and the source of that awful smell? Oh yes, parenthood makes one do bizarre things! :)

Now, I changed diapers several times a day - it is simply part of the day's work besides feeding, cleaning etc. And you get better and better over time, attaining new achievements everyday - I can change Julien's diapers when he is asleep without waking him up; I can put new diapers on him, even when he's resting on his tummy ... Basically, you pick up new tricks along the way, especially when your baby is a right active, squirmy little monkey.

And I have had "accidents" before as well - once, Jules pooed into his towels, while I was creaming him after the bath. And Daddy Low was not amused, because I had borrowed his big, fluffy towel, now that the baby towels are too small for Jules. Oh, what a cleaning job I had after that!

But nothing takes the cake like today. After his bath, I had held him up to cream him, since he was fretting and did not want to lie down. It was tricky creaming him while he was standing up and he was unusually fretty... And just when I was wondering if he could possibly be hungry, I heard a familiar grunting sound that should only happen when he is in diapers, followed rapidly by a sputtering noise and a warm wetness on my pants and of course, a sickening, sour, pungent odor filled the room. And it didn't show any signs of letting up too...

Once I overcame my shock, I started frantically pulling out as many wet wipes as I can to catch this "machine gun's" foul discharge. The good news is that nothing got on the carpet; the bad news is that they all landed on my shirt and pants. And of course, with an upright baby, he was standing on shit, and he cried and fretted even louder - clearly, he does not like standing on shit.

And the funny thing is that as I watched this drama unfolding, my brain seemed to suddenly go on overdrive, as thoughts flew through as to what is the best way to deal with the whole mess - what should I do first, then second and etc etc. Should I wash his legs first? Or change out of my filthy clothes? Or clean the changing mat?

As much as time seems to stand still in these situations, you do make the best, snap decisions and take the right actions. Before long, Jules was clean again, but clearly still very unhappy. I think it traumatized him as much as it did me!

The moral of the story - watch and listen to your baby for the cues. Jules had made a few tiny grunts, but I had dismissed them, thinking, it can't possibly be... And without doubt, get that new diaper on asap! I know I would next time! :)

First Night Out!

Tonight, Daddy Low's boss organized dinner for the team and their partners. And it was a strictly no-children affair.

I must say my first reaction is of worry. Who are we to leave Julien with? Hiring a babysitter or a childminder does not make me feel at ease - I know they are professionals, but can I trust them? And it will be Julien's first time away from us; will he be okay? Especially since he has become a lot more sticky to us these days, and is much more fussier at night... How will he react to a foreign face for the first time?

All these thoughts went through my mind, but I decided not to be pessimistic and did my online search anyway for a childminder/babysitter as well as asked frens for recommendations. Nobody had any and while my search unearthed a few names, I knew I would feel more comfortable if they came with references. 

Just when I was ready to give up the idea of attending, a fren from London agreed to come up and help. And the fact that Julien is familiar with him gave me much assurance. As the reality of the dinner sank in, I suddenly realised how far removed I had become from the whole idea of dressing up for a nice dinner.  What would I wear? How about accessories? Which handbag? And was suddenly worried that I may feel awkward holding a small dinner handbag as compared to the spacious baby bag that I have grown so used to.  And touch wood that I don't wobble on my heels and stumble in them!

Anyway, I proceeded about my preparations for dinner. I put in my menu choices for the dinner, went for a haircut, then came face-to-face with the reality of my ample post-partum figure... As I rummaged through my wardrobe for a suitable dress, my enthusiasm slowly became gloom, as dress after dress was rejected, because I couldn't zip up and if I could, I couldn't breathe and if sleeveless, my arms looked flabby etc etc... Sigh, I do have some more way to go before I recover my pre-pregnancy figure. 

Only 2 dresses made me comfortable and they were odd choices indeed - a long vintage slinky dress and an expensive maternity evening dress. Interestingly enough, I have never had the courage to wear the former, because the pre-pregnant Me just felt that I ought to have a lot less fat to wear something so femininely sexy.  And yet, now, after popping a baby, I suddenly felt that a little bit of roundness on my tummy seemed justifiable and possibly cute??? (Dun ask me how that squares with my unhappiness over flabby arms in the previous paragraph)  In the end, I went for the maternity dress, and only because now that I have lost my bump, it is a lot roomier and works out perfectly by giving the illusion of an even slimmer me. And happily thought to myself - the expensive maternity dress is worth every penny after all! Haha! 

My fren came and after going through with him Baby's habits and where we keep the baby necessities, I went on chatting happily until he interrupted me and asked me when exactly we need to leave, how far away is the restaurant, how long I need to prepare... and then told me that I ought to go change. Haha, he definitely has more experience about babysitting for a night out than me! I am so out of touch! 


I went up and got ready. I must say it felt a bit surreal, as I put pn my dress, did my make-up, chose my accessories, picked an evening handbag and put on a hint of perfume for the finishing touch. I have done this thousand of times, but now, the newness of it all made it feel like it is the very first time I am prettying myself up. How motherhood can take the freshness out of a girly girl! 


So, Daddy Low and I stole away. I did not want to see Julien before I leave, in case he cries or in case I back out. And in the car, I was once more sitting in the front passenger seat, after having been relegated to the back seat beside Julien in his car seat all this while. As the car sped off into the night with just two of us, all dressed up for a fancy dinner, I felt light, liberated and a bit heady.  I was on an adventure, an escapade, my whole being humming at the sensation of tasting a forbidden thrill (oh yes, a little bit of guilt as the mummy in me stole into my thoughts at times). 


And before I knew it, I had gone through 3 glasses of wine and was happily engaged in airy chatter. When I finally remembered to check my phone for messages, I was one hour late for my fren's text that said all was well and Julien had fallen asleep... in my mind, a little mummy voice rebuked me for forgetting my baby before the fine-dining me stepped in and said, "Hey, mummies are entitled to some non-mummy time and enjoyment too!"


When we left the restaurant, it was minutes away from midnight and I was astonished, having believed at the onset of dinner that it would end after 2 hours as stated in the invitation - we are after all, all parents with a babysitter at home awaiting our return that evening.  Going by the laughter and warm handshakes and hugs before we parted, we had all enjoyed being just adults out on a dinner, having shed and left our parent selves at the door.


When we reached home, Julien was still asleep and our fren reported that he had not stirred once since going down at 8.30pm. Looks like going for dinner as child-free adults can be painless after all. I guess we can start looking for a reliable, regular babysitter for future escapades!

Sakura Spring

When I first started this blog, my dear fren U loved it and raved about it to her frens, asking them to read it. One of her frens told U that I would eventually stop, that motherhood would wear me down and put an end to this indulgence. U, my strong supporter, had confidently stood by me and said "No way!"


Well, I am looking at my blog now and my last entry was dated 15 Feb 2011... oh dear...

No, U, I did not give up. I stopped only because so many things happened and took over for a while - a terrible bout of winter flu that went through the household, then a fall down the stairs, and sigh, homesickness and depression with the miserable gloom of cold, drab winter days...



But the blog was never far from my mind. There is a title, a topic everyday in my head. And funnily, my drafts page is full of titles and half-finished entries. You learn that time waits for no one. You have all these titles, but the freshness and the details of that particular topic fades. And I have been wanting to write about the end of winter, the beginning of spring, how my  cherry tree is budding, but by the time I got down to photographing the dear tree, it is all abloom and by next week, its flowers will all have fallen to the ground. 


So, today, I decided enough is enough. I will procrastinate no more (for indeed this terrible habit grows on one).  And to make the most of it, I invited my Japanese fren K to come view my sakura and have some dessert. She tells me that sakura viewing session in Japan is enjoyed with tea, bento sets and rice cakes. I offered her mochi, choya, fruits and a Southeast Asian dessert of black sticky rice with a dollop of coconut cream.


We sat there with the french windows open, enjoying the beautiful cherry flowers, the beautiful breeze that comes in and each other's and our babies' company. In the airy room where there is a splash of soft spring afternoon sunlight, we appreciated Asian cuisine and talked about recipes. The whole afternoon had a sense of tranquility, no doubt enhanced by the very smooth, velvety, calming iced Choya.


There is no better way to enjoy a nice sunny afternoon. Try it - light refreshments, appreciation of nature and a quiet conversation with pleasant company. It's a great start to spring! :)