It´s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

My high school friends and I had a Christmas party/reunion last night with our significant others, and it was a hoot. The food was great (Japanese), the drinks flowing (bubble tea, that is) and the company was excellent. It was both a relief and a wonder to know that good friends will always be happy to see you no matter how much time or distance has passed in between your last contact. I was touched to see everyone cooing over Sophie and it made me a little sad to think that I would only get to see sights like that few and far in between.

There were a lot of times during the night when I caught myself staring at each of my friends in turn, looking for similarities and differences, however subtle, in how I remember them from before. Did someone`s hair change? Did someone start dating someone new/ did someone bring their husbands/boyfriends that I have not seen in a while? Did any of us look older or not at all? I was glad to note that there were changes, but only for the better, and only in the right places. Everyone of us looked relaxed, happy and excited to be there, in the presence of good food and even better people with fun stories to tell.

Of course not all of the catch up stories were perfect, but we were all coping with life the best way we knew how. Some of us in the room were happily married moms, some in that magical place between single blessedness and marital bliss. I was happy to see that everyone was happy in spite of work woes and other daily irritations. One thing I love about this group of friends is the common ability to laugh at ourselves and be silly... mainly because we have a collectively wicked sense of humour, but at the same time, we are also so comfortable with each other that we know we will not be judged.

I have only good memories of my growing up years with SNB... the group meetings when we noticed someone was challenging one of our own, the solidarity we would have as one team when the going got personally tough for one of us, the events we would plan to go together that would resemble planning for a military operation and, most of all, the everyday classroom life that was made more interesting with all these personalities in each other´s way.

While I do not believe in regrets, I do hope to keep in better touch with these guys better in the future. When I hang out with them again, I realize just how much I missed:

- Fara´s infectious giggle
- Tani´s warm hugs
- Jac´s concern
- Abi´s wisdom
- Willa´s generosity
- Aileen´s spontaneity
- Muy´s serene grace
- Ann Dee´s charm (hoy, bayad)
- Jill´s pragmatism
- Te´s "game face"

Not a lot of people know the type of life I lead abroad, but it involved a lot of toughening up... seeing those who know me through and through has melted a way a bit of the exterior I´ve had to build up over the years. Now that I feel warm and cozy inside and out, it´s beginning to look a lot like (a true barkada) Christmas.

Naked

Naked baby, that is!

4 Wishes

"Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars?
I could really use a wish right now..."
- Airplanes

I know it´s still a little early, but here are some of my Christmas wishes:

1. For those who need to a break, I wish they realize this need and act on it before it is too late and all the calming spots in the world become overcome with stressed out tourists. There is always time.

2. For those who have had their heart broken, I wish them strength and a fabulous single life to find themselves again and to get ready for the one they are really meant to be with. There is always love.

3. For those who think its too late to do something new with their lives, to see that as long as they can dream they can start to do. There is always now.

4. For those who have had the fight knocked out of them recently, to stay down until they catch their breath and no longer else the defeated position becomes too comfortable. There is always tomorrow.

Have a great countdown to Christmas guys!

Blast from the Past

When Sophie was but an idea...

Another Song I Should Be Singing Now

So, when every one and his cousin knocks on your door, when two hands are not enough, when there are too few hours in a day, when you wish you could survive on less sleep, when there are deadlines to meet, when others are counting on you to save them....


Breathe Slow
(Alesha Dixon)

I'm running out of patience
'cause i can't believe what the hell i'm hearing
And speaking of hell it don't compare to this heat
That i am feeling

I love you too much it shows
All my emotions go out of control
Good for you bad for me
When i can hardly see from the tears that flow

Can't forget to breathe slow
Count from one to ten with my eyes closed
'cause ladies take it in and get composure
Before i lose it get composure

I am gonna breathe slow
Count from one to ten with my eyes closed
'cause ladies take it in and get composure
Ladies never lose composure

Not gonna lie or even try
You've got my wheel spinning
And i ain't the one to shoot the gun
'cause that means you will be winning

I love you too much it shows
All my emotions go out of control
Good for you bad for me
When i can hardly see from the tears that flow

Can't forget to breathe slow
Count from one to ten with my eyes closed
'cause ladies take it in and get composure
Before i lose it get composure

I am gonna breathe slow
Count from one to ten with my eyes closed
'cause ladies take it in and get composure
Ladies never lose composure

Somebody better hold me back
You're lucky i know how to act
So lucky i ain't gonna attack

I'm being calm and cool
But believe me you it's taking everything to just breathe
Breathe breathe

Can't forget to breathe slow
Count from one to ten with my eyes closed
'cause ladies take it in and get composure
Before i lose it get composure

I am gonna breathe slow
Count from one to ten with my eyes closed
'cause ladies take it in and get composure
Ladies never lose composure

Can't forget to breathe slow
Count from one to ten with my eyes closed
'cause ladies take it in and get composure
Before i lose it get composure

I am gonna breathe slow
Count from one to ten with my eyes closed
'cause ladies take it in and get composure
Ladies never lose composure
Composure

This Song...

... describes the love I have for Sophie. Funny how the romantic love songs also apply to family love. While the two emotions are different, neither is less important nor less intense than the other.

Just the Way You Are (Bruno Mars)

Oh her eyes, her eyes
Make the stars look like they're not shining
Her hair, her hair
Falls perfectly without her trying

She's so beautiful
And I tell her every day

Yeah I know, I know
When I compliment her
She wont believe me
And its so, its so
Sad to think she don't see what I see

But every time she asks me do I look okay
I say

When I see your face
There's not a thing that I would change
Cause you're amazing
Just the way you are
And when you smile,
The whole world stops and stares for awhile
Cause girl you're amazing
Just the way you are

Her nails, her nails
I could kiss them all day if she'd let me
Her laugh, her laugh
She hates but I think its so sexy

She's so beautiful
And I tell her every day

Oh you know, you know, you know
I´d never ask you to change
If perfect is what you're searching for
Then just stay the same

So don't even bother asking
If you look okay
You know I say

When I see your face
There's not a thing that I would change
Cause you're amazing
Just the way you are
And when you smile,
The whole world stops and stares for awhile
Cause girl you're amazing
Just the way you are

The way you are
The way you are
Girl you're amazing
Just the way you are

When I see your face
There's not a thing that I would change
Cause you're amazing
Just the way you are
And when you smile,
The whole world stops and stares for awhile
Cause girl you're amazing
Just the way you are

What to do When Insomnia Takes Hold:

1. Listen to internet radio.

2. Update your iTunes library.

3. Check in on your baby more than once an hour. Use a videocam with night vision capability to film.

4. Do #3 while the baby is wearing a glow in the dark skeleton outfit in anticipation of Halloween.

5. Update your blog. If you do not have one, start one.

6. Get to know everyone in your Facebook friends´list by sending them short, sweet messages. Marvel at their photos and smile at their antics and thank God you are friends.

7. Email people you have always wanted to email for the longest time. A simple "hi, I am awake this late and thought of you" will be more than enough.

8. Set your alarm for a time when you should be awake at the latest. Sleep might take hold at any time and you do not want to be caught unaware.

9. Look through photos still in your digital camera.

10. Read that good book you never had time to read through before.

WHEW

Just finished the first weekend of not opening my computer since starting work last Monday.

Whew.

This weekend, I was reminded of three things no one should forget:

1. Wherever you go, there is love (from Sophie who smiles at me for no reason other than I am sticking my tongue out at her, to Warrick who enjoys a cuddle after a weekend apart, to friends who make long journeys worthwhile and the time spent with them sweet and fun).

2. Love is patient, love is kind (thanks Christian for being a great husband, a shoulder to lean on and cry on, a funny camping partner, a great support, and a great father).

3. Love conquers all things (hooray to Ben and Hazel for getting married in the most heartfelt and sincere manner).

Whew. Now for another week ahead.

BREATHE....

ARGH

Just finished the first week back at work.

Argh.

It was tougher than I thought. In between taking calls and planning calls I was answering emails and sending out emails. How was I able to do this all so timely before, without losing my cool and feeling like there should be more than 24 hours in the day?! Plus, baby drama upon family drama, upon daily drama. The only thing I was looking forward to each day was the end of the day, because it meant the end of playing catch up and the task of clearing a full inbox.

Don´t get me wrong, getting back to work is a challenge worth facing. I just don´t think I should be facing it all at once.

I should remember what Christian told me while I was in labour... BREATHE.

Funny how that situation reminds me of this situation... since both times all I could vocalize was ARGH.

First Weekend Away from Sophie and...

I missed her more than I thought I would. Which is quite funny as I anticipated missing her like I would miss an arm or a leg. It actually felt more intense, like there was a hole in my body that only she could fit into and make me whole again.

On one hand it was good that Christian and I could have some couple time to ourselves. It also meant that we could attend one of the best weddings ever of dear friends in Barcelona. If we had brought Sophie, it would have meant that she would have to sleep in her push chair or car seat in a loud atmosphere, and we wouldn´t have been able to follow her regular sleep schedule. If we had brought her but left her in the hotel with a babysitter, it wouldn´t have felt right, leaving her with a stranger.

A great solution was thanks to Christian´s mom, Katrin, who gladly took over Sophie´s care for two days. Peter, Christian´s dad took over Warrick´s care so that each of them could be individually focused on. While Warrick was no trouble, Sophie herself made life fun for Katrin by sleeping 9 hours straight each time and was generally in a good mood. I think both of them had a lot of fun and cuddle time together, as we came back to a super happy baby (although her super poo of the day tired her out).

It was so surreal seeing her again and looking (and finding) changes in my baby after two days apart. For one, she seems bigger, although this could be just my imagination. For another, though, she was warmer, cuddlier and fit even more snuggly in my arms than ever. And this is no imagination, this is what I felt when I hugged her and closed my eyes to take the moment in better. It was like the middle part of a jigsaw puzzle was found and fitted to make the picture complete. I told Christian just awhile ago, after he cuddled her to sleep and stared lovingly at her for over an hour, that now we were a family again. Me, him, Sophie and Warrick (who was well fed, brushed to perfection, and extra cuddly in bed as well).

I think now I know what a mommy kangaroo feels when its baby has left its sack... lighter in some ways but heavier in others. And always, always glad to see her baby.

One Good Man = Christian (Warning: Senti Alert!)

1. He got me a new, super small, super cute netbook with all the features I wanted.
2. He helped me get rid of the features I did not want.
3. He hides the fact that he is stressed from me so I will not be affected.
4. He likes going on dates.
5. He appreciates me being able to read him, gauge his mood and pacify him when need be.
6. We laugh together, no matter what.
7. We talk, talk, talk.
8. He is a little deaf but is a good listener despite this.
9. The way he loves Sophie makes my heart melt.
10. He is one of the smartest people I know. And respect. And love.

The Famous Ng-Funke Formula

Compromise = You do this and I promise I will do that.

Hey, it works so far! :)

This Picture Makes Me Want to Speak a Thousand Words

"I love you, Sophie" x 250

Time Soars

It´s been nearly a month since I last wrote in my blog and I feel guilty... hoo boy do I feel guilty. As guilty as not calling someone when I said I would, not keeping in touch with old friends, and not being able to stick to my diet... those kinds of guilt. I could rationalize that it´s because I´ve been so busy, but then the next logical question would be "with what?. This is because my days follow one after the other in a similar, if frantic pattern.

Wake up.
Feed the baby.
Sleep for another hour.
Wake up.
Feed the baby. Play with the dog.
Get up and get breakfast.
Load laundry.
Fold dried laundry.
Take over baby sitting, nappy changing, baby entertaining duties.
Feed the baby.
Change the baby´s nappy. Play with the dog.
Sing to baby or watch Elmo together on You Tube.
Change the baby´s nappy.
Make lunch or wash the dishes after lunch.
Hang laundry. Load washer with the next batch.
Take over baby sitting, nappy changing, baby entertaining duties.
Feed the baby.
Tummy time for baby. Cuddle the dog.
Try to work, answer emails, write in the blog.
Walk in the park with family.
Feed the baby. Think about dinner.
Change the baby´s nappy.
Make dinner or wash the dishes.
Check on laundry. Hang laundry.
Feed baby after her bath.
Relax while hubby plays video games or watch CSI together.
Sleep.
Wake up in the middle of the night to feed the baby.

And.... wash, rinse, repeat. It feels like Groundhog Day with the difference being- believe it or not, the days blend in together because I have a love hate relationship with this routine. It involves spending a lot of time and energy taking care of a little person I care deeply about so, like any mother with child, the experience can be liberating, rewarding, humbling and exasperating, all rolled into one. With this type of schedule, time does not only fly, but soars to limits I cannot imagine.

I wish nappy changes would go quicker and become fewer and further apart in instances from each other. I wish time with hubby would be more frequent and longer. I wish I had more of my time alone with myself... but then immediately think no, I shouldn´t feel this way. After all, it was our decision to love and raise our daughter, and it is a decision we have to see through, otherwise it would not be fair to her or to us as a family unit.

So, I´ll take the busy, routine days. I´ll withstand the nappy changes and the poo smells associated with this task. I´ll accept the interrupted sleep and the eyebags that follow. I´ll take time passing like a speeding locomotive and just pray that I am nimble enough to step out of its way. I will also pray that I get lucky, and that some days will see the fruits of my labour in my little girl´s smile. And then I will realize that time soars, and it is carrying me higher and higher, past all the boundaries that I want to overcome.

And as these tribulations become but specks in the distance, I will only look forward to a new day with new challenges, and hope that time will be on my side once again.

Windfalls

I just passed a house on my street that had a basket of apples balanced on the wall with a sign that read: "Windfalls, please help yourself." While I do not know the woman who owns the house, I do see her cleaning her yard and her windows sometimes. I've only caught her eye once, when she was inside cleaning her window, and when I waved she waved back. The few things I know about her is that she has white hair, a ready smile, and a lot of apples, which she is happy to share with her neighbours.

The sign she had on the basket and her generosity got me thinking about blessings and the act of sharing these blessings. There has been a lot of "windfalls" in my life that have come unexpectedly but timely, which has made everything from challenges to simple day to day living more tolerable and enlightening. If a smile from perfect strangers on a bad day makes me feel better about myself, what more a squeal of delight from my three month old daughter? Or the look on my husband's face when I tell him about it?

I think we receive gifts from many unexpected sources, and because they are unexpected they are all the more precious and touching. I say, let's all take stock of these windfalls, appreciate them, and pass them on.

CSI Junkies

I just wanted to share that Christian, Warrick and I are sitting in front of the tv watching CSI New York. With Sophie sleeping peacefully (cross fingers) upstairs. Just chilling on a Saturday night. Indoors. Nothing too exciting. Just the way we (currently) like it.

Sure, in the past we've chosen other means of entertainment. Usually outdoors. Just the two of us (me and Christian, not me and Warrick). This time around, though, we're perfectly in tune in agreeing that some inside peace and quiet can also be nice. Relaxing. Comfortable. After all, it's the company that counts.

Still, there's more to come. After all, couple time can be couple time in and out of the house. And there should be a balance between the two. Next week we'll work on being a couple outside. Tonight, we're working on being CSI junkies.

Can't think of a better way to spend the middle of our weekend.

With a Huff and a Puff

I've just had a bout shortness of breath, care of an hour long exercise session with my personal trainer, Guy. Now, before you think that wow, she's so posh, personal trainer, la di da, believe me when I say that it was a last resort. I've tried losing weight by joining a gym, asking Christian to play badminton with me... hmmm... come to think of it, maybe a personal trainer was only the third resort. But it's the last one for me as I think it is the best one.

Nothing beats having a friendly if strict gladiator giving you instructions on how to start sweating like a pig in the great, cold outdoors of London. There's something fulfilling about running back and forth, jumping in one spot, boxing uselessly but breathlessly, and other such demeaning activities, especially if done in front of strangers who gawk at you. It helps in spurring me on to complete my sets faster!

So, anyway, back to the story. Today I had my first session with Guy after a nine months hiatus to, you guessed it, have a baby! Now that I feel reasonably fit with Pilates and mild weight lifting (given that Sophie weighs 7 kilos and counting!), I thought it would be a good, SAFE idea to try losing the baby weight. The session itself was a real eye opener, as I could tell that proving that I still had some life in me made me work that much harder. I did sweat a lot and I did raise an eyebrow in protest once or twice, but all in all I did better than expected. It's true I found the 8kg swing weight a challenge, but then again, I'm only used to Sophie and I certainly don't swing her around!

The pregnancy, birth and aftermath has certainly tested my mental and physical boundaries, and today was another way of strengthening both for the long journey ahead.

Prayers for Baba

Warrick had to go through an operation today to remove some bladder stones. He was so weak that Christian had to carry him halfway from the vet's surgery to our house. When I answered the door because Christian was holding him with both hands and Sophie in the baby sling, my heart broke. Warrick had his head raised slightly but had a very sleepy, "they wouldn't leave me alone" look. It wasn't easy to see him padding unsteadily through the house and wincing every five minutes as we tried to stop him from licking/ nipping at his wound.

I can only hope that as each day passes he'll find an easier time of it, and that he recuperates well. There's nothing more lump-in-your-throat than those big brown eyes staring at me with a little less spark than usual.

Your prayers for my baba are appreciated!

What a Difference a Year Makes!

Christian, Sophie and I spent last week in Barbados, the exact same place where we honeymooned (belatedly) this same time last year. While the country and the people were as welcoming as ever, the main changes I noted were:

- Last year I could read books and watch magazines during the flight. This time I could still do both, but Christian and I had to constantly be on the alert if Sophie cried, getting fussy, or there was turbulence. We then had to stand, haul her out of the cabin cot and strap her to me or head to the bathroom to change her. Not a lot of nap time for me either!

- We didn't get to roam around as much on foot or by car this time around. A lot of what we did revolved around Sophie and her sleeping-eating-nappy filling schedule.

- A typical day last year would be us waking up at 9am to catch surfing lessons at 10am, then coming back in land after two hours of surfing, eating a hearty lunch and driving to a different beach to chill out everyday. We'd then pick a place for dinner and head out at 7pm, and stay out as late as we wanted. A typical day this year was waking up at 8am, feeding her until she went back to sleep, waking up at 10 or 11am when she did, dressing her in her swimsuit and lathering her up in sunscreen for a morning swim. Feeding her again at 230pm and lathering her up again to go to the hotel's beach area. We'd stay until she got hungry again at 5pm, then head inside, feed her and get ready for dinner while she snoozed. We'd either eat at the hotel restaurant with her in tow, or take out from Oistins to eat in the room while we took turns holding her in our laps when she fussed. Then it would be bath time at 8 or 9pm, bedtime at 10pm, and morning feedings at 3 and 6am.

- The time I spent in the sun last year was A LOT in order to get a good "holiday" tan. This time around I had to stay with Sophie all the time so I was also hiding from the sun, choosing loungers that was either under a low palm tree or under the big shadow of a beach umbrella. Christian managed to get a bit more tanned because of his surfing lessons though, but he is still nowhere as tanned as he was last year.

- I was able to take surfing lessons last year. This year, I was on baby duty! No surfing, but a lot of sleeping when the baby slept!

- Last year I bought 7 books on holiday and finished it within the two week time frame we were in Barbados, and I still had to buy a book at the airport to read on the flight home! This year, for one week I brought three books and barely managed to finish all in 7 days.

Still, the biggest change is:

Last year we were only thinking about having a child, this year we have one who runs our days and nights, squeals in frustration when she is lathered in sunscreen (she probably feels like a marinated piece of meat), and acts up in the most romantic restaurant because she is bored with the candlelit ambiance. As I scooped her up for the nth time to rock her back into calmness, I realized that there was no where I would rather be, and nothing else I would like to be doing.

Second Anniv and Counting...

Christian and I just celebrated our second (civil) wedding anniversary yesterday night and, in typical fashion showing that times have indeed changed for us, Sophie managed to put her stamp on the evening. First, she did not want to continue sitting quietly in her chair and so Christian had to take her on his lap. While on his lap she decided to do a number two, thankfully before our food came. I tried to feed her discreetly in the bathroom lounge and Christian hurried down to the car to change her as there were no chaning stations in the bathrooms).

Still, we didn´t make it to dessert as she was fussing again, but it was just as well as we were too full of wonderful seafood and gorgeously baked chicken. One of the waiters came over, told me that he thought Sophie was beautiful, and asked how everything was, and I said it was great. After I said it, I realized it was true. Things are great, from the holiday we were lucky to repeat, to the baby girl we only dreamed of having this time last year. It has been one huge change after another, and while I understand why some couples make it or break it at this time, I can only hope that it continues to make me and Christian stronger as a couple, as parents.

Each year there is something more to be thankful for, and this year I am thankful for Sophie, for another year with Christian and Warrick that almost never happened had I decided not to stay on in London. I am also thankful for the adventure, the fun memories, and the love.

Ta.

Waking Up is Hard to Do

Unless...

1. You have someone to wake up next to that can laugh about their quirks at 5 o'clock in the morning.

2. You can look forward to hand-delivered breakfast by the same person after a full night of breastfeeding and nappy changes.

3. Someone else has already changed the BIG POO nappy first thing in the morning.

4. The dog is licking that part your feet that snuck outside the blanket in an effort to keep it warm.

5. It is a weekend morning.

6. The baby wakes up without crying and coos when you come over to pick her up.

7. The show you taped the night before is available commercial free the morning you want to watch it.

8. The sun is shining behind the window shades so you have the hint of a nice day without it glaringly waking you up.

9. You have great house guests and friends to meet up with over the weekend.

10. All the above happens on the same morning - now that's AMAZING.

It's the little things, people, it's the little things.

Silence Chicken

Have you guys played the game "Chicken"? Essentially, depending on what you have on hand, it is a stand off game wherein two people are given a task to do or not to do, and the first one to "give in" and do or not do the action is the loser or, Chicken. For example, the chicken game in the realm of racing sees two cars going head to head at full speed. The driver of the car that veers away first in order to avoid a collision is the chicken.

I'm currently going through a game I call the Silence Chicken. It involves me and another individual giving each other the silent treatment. Like the above, we both think that whoever gives in first and breaks the silence is the loser, but unlike the above, this is more than a spontaneous game. It is a test of wills, yes, but it is also about taking a stand.

My side of things are: I'm a grown-up, trying to do grown-up things, and all I get is put downs and unfair comparisons. I'm trying to be a mom to my baby and, while I still have a ways to go (after all, motherhood is forever), I am trying my best and it would be good to get recognition for that fact instead of constant negativity. Breaking the silence means I will have to say sorry (otherwise the other party ignores the break and keeps her silence while I lose - dead end), and while I know I'm not the most respectful person on the planet, I still think I'm in the right. I mean, I certainly never said anything wrong nor did I have a bad tone when saying it.

Yes, in a way we're both losers for even participating in this childish game. I admit that I still have a lot of growing up to do, but I stand by the fact that I need more positive support instead of needless nagging and insults to help me get there. I've had to raise and support myself for the last six years, and I think I know the difference between constructive criticism and needling put downs. I wish I had the former more than the latter but, with Silence Chicken in place, I'm guaranteed not to hear both - and this is why, in another dead end situation, I am already losing.

Waxing Lyrical

This is for those people who are, for one reason or another, filled with negativity and, whether with good intentions or not, (want to) pass them on to others:

another crushing statement
delivered with your innocent tone
you're wide-eyed and wondering
why i always leave you alone

in silence i'm feign i'm listening
as you rant on and on
just because i'm tired of fighting
doesn't mean i'm not strong

given your lack of flexibility
and your insistence that you're always right
i leave you to that delusion
and know that i've won the fight

because i know that by being open
i will learn from my mistakes
whereas you will never see yours
and will always be filled with hate

so next time you feel the need to belittle
in order to make yourself tall
i think you should stop and realize
no one listens to you at all

Who Knew?

"If someone said three years from now
You'd be long gone
I'd stand up and punch their mouths
'Cause they're all wrong"

- Pink's "Who Knew"

A lot can happen in a year's time. A lot more can happen in three year's time. If I just stand still and think about it, the events of the last three years have done more to mold my emotional state that anything else in my life combined:

1. Became a manager and fired someone - since I was little, my dad advised me to have a plan for my life. He said milestones would help ensure I was on the right track and would minimise distractions. One of my big steps was to become a manager - not in title but in responsibility - by 30. For a big company. With a corresponding glamorous lifestyle. Bingo. I got to lead a team and travel the world for not one, but two multinational companies.

What I also got, aside from a sense of achievement, was a sense that I had to continue earning my position. My worst critics were not the clients I had to service but the team I had to mentor and encourage. I learned the hard way how to let people go, good people but not-on-par performers, people I have come to know as friends. Some might say I am exaggerating when I liken firing someone to a heartbreak, but the emotions are very closely related. The last minute - "can't we work this out", "it's me not you", "we're not a good fit", "we were better before" - is the same. The guilt is the same. The aftermath attacks of "what ifs" is even worse.

2. Big fight with parents and disagreement with family - since Christmas 2004 I've had a lot of grief from my family for deciding to stay in London and work from here. Oh, and date a German. Needless to say I gave them a lot of grief back. It was ironic because I never thought I would be the one to "break the rules" and was in fact sure that I would marry a nice Chinese guy, eventually work for my dad, and settle down somewhere in Manila. What happened was, after two tries to get to the US to study (the first time was when I got accepted into Notre Dame University), my dad finally spurred me on my second try due to the lack of peace and quiet in Manila. Whatever the cause, I found myself alone, independent, and strangely, loving it.

It wasn't so much that I loved the freedom (of course I did), I loved the new adventures I don't think I would have had if I had stayed at home. This realization was what made me stay in Europe - I wanted more of these kinds of experiences. Granted, love played a huge part as well - it IS one of life's greatest experiences after all. Cheers, Chris!

3. Warrick - okay, so a dog doesn't seem like such a big deal to most people but, to dog lovers and to couples who have tried to have a dog together, you know what I'm talking about. To have such a little thing completely dependent on you - that part is similar to having a child. Everything else, well... you clean up after them, you play with them, you have to love them even when they crap all over the carpet and wee when they are excited to see you... some call it preparation for the real thing (raising a child) but I think loving Warrick is the real thing in itself for me. I've always wanted a dog to call my own and suddenly, there he was. All fur and four paws of him. And the funny thing is - he also made me his.

4. Marriage, reconciliation - following the fall-out from my family came this overwhelming support and love from them when Christian and I decided to tie the knot. Maybe they realized they had to accept the inevitable, maybe they were, like me, tired of fighting something we didn't really have to fight about. Whatever the reason the end result was the same. A magical moment made all the more precious by love.

That day there were roses, good food, fun dancing, laughter, tears... another one of the great experiences I could relive over and over again. Obviously that's just the wedding. Marriage is another thing altogether that gives more trials but ultimately bigger rewards. I still cannot believe I have this wonderful man beside me to call my husband - he is the one who best understands me and who tries to take care of me no matter how bad my breath is in the morning. It's a hard measure to live up to but at least I can spend the rest of my life trying...

4. Pregnancy, birth, painpainpainpainpain - I've yet to write about the pregnancy months and the birth... watch this space as it is still to painful for me to put into words without cringing. For the moment, I will say this - I'm still glad I went through it because the light at the end of the tunnel was bright and warm indeed.

Who knew it would be like this?

Another "Lullaby" for Sophie

To the tune of the refrain from California Girls by Katy Perry

Oh my Sophie girl you're indescribable
Apple cheeks and milky soft skin
You're our baby bear it's undeniable
It's true - oooh oooh; true - ooh ooh

Oh my Sophie girl you're irrepressible
Yelling loud when you're in a strop
Baby bear you've got to stop doing us in
It's you - oooh oooh; you - ooh ooh

A Warm, Friendly Sunday

Nothing beats a lazy Sunday spent with friends. Christian and I had a late brunch with some of them who we needed to catch up with a LOT. Life experiences can have a profound impact on normal schedules, so finding time to meet friends becomes more of a challenge. In fact, it is now more important to MAKE time to meet friends so that the relationship is kept intact and prioritized, as all good friendships should be. Babies, moving house, big project at work, in between trips - all these can be overcome with a breather spent with people who can make you laugh with one look and understand you fully with another. All the woes and funny instances you stored up in your head can now be shared with people who will not judge or criticize you (at least not too much!), and vice versa.

All in all, it makes for a great way to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon.

Since You've Been Gone

I haven't been signing in or writing in this account/blog of mine for some time. There are several reasons for that.

One, I've started an exercise regime, because I have a lot of "baby" weight to lose, so to speak. I've started attending one on one Pilates classes in the studio across the street from my house. So far so good, as I am learning to rebuild my abdominal muscles that have been non-existent and pushed to the back of everything since the start of my pregnancy. In three one hour sessions, I know have the beginning of some abs where before there used to be an abscess!

Two, I've caught up on my reading, namely my Sandman and Cathy comics that I asked my brother Jay to bring from Manila. These two collections could not be more different, as the former is a dramatic tale of a more-than-supernatural being called Dream, written by a wonderful surreal writer named Neil Gaiman. He is one of my favourite writers, and he is known in the mainstream for writing the books behind the movies "Stardust" and "Coraline". Dream is a somber character, who boasts of not having friends and has loads of adventures in his own realm and the real world. It's a good escape from real life of baby feeding, nappy changing, etc.

The second comic is a woman's viewpoint on life as a single woman in the late 80's and 90's... Cathy is a woman who has a hard time dating, balancing work and finding time to exercise, tries all the diets in the world, has a strong love-hate relationship with her mom and the sales clerk, never listens to her dad, loves her dog more than she loves walking it and yet has the wondrous optimism that never dies. It's a good reminder of life as it once was, and a reassuring read because humour is a good cure to new-mommy-related frustrations.

Finally, I've also been immersing myself in my "new" family structure, as it is no longer just me, Christian and Warrick. It's now me, Christian, Warrick and Sophie, and the latest addition to the family requires the most time, care and attention, so we can make sure that she settles in well. So far we've gone past the feeding on demand change to a relaxed schedule of nappy and feeding every three hours or so. We've also started becoming more relaxed parents, and we are looking forward to taking her on our first holiday of the year so far - I'll keep you updated, sooner rather than later, I hope!

Post Natal-ly Yours

These are the truths I learned while in the hospital after Sophie's birth:

1. A shared ward means there are no secrets.

2. Day midwives good. Night midwives baaad.

3. Whoever has the loudest baby has the biggest problem.

4. Boyfriends and husbands come and go. Nappy changing is forever.

5. The biggest sacrifice a man can make for a woman and his child is to watch World Cup games in the hospital with no alcohol. On a five inch tv. In silence.

6. A sauna has nothing on a ward with two windows that do not completely open in 30 degree heat.

7. You know what they say about big feet... more water retention.

8. Moms need not worry - no matter how much wind a new born baby generates, it will never be enough to propel him/her from the cot.

9. Love means not throwing yourself or your child out the window at ANY provocation(so this is why the windows in the ward does not open fully).

10. The question "Was it all worth it?" should not be asked of a new mom with more than one degree tearing the day after the birth.

When Families Visit - Part 1

Grandma, Uncle Jacob and Sophie...the last of the Ng family visitors hold the newest member of the family.


Mama surprises me, Sophie and Warrick through our front window.


Grandma and the littlest grandchild...

When You Can Make A Wish

Over the years I've heard a lot of old (and varied) wives tales, but the ones I like the most are about the ideal moment to make a wish so that it will come true. Below are the ones I remember the most (and end up doing the most), apart from before blowing out candles on a birthday cake . Whether or not they are the most effective, well, take your unused hope out of your cynical back pocket and give it a go to find out for yourself:

- When you visit a new church (this can actually get you three wishes)

- When you sneeze three or more times in a row

- When you see a rainbow

- At a parade you've never been to before

- When the number signifying the time is equal to the number signifying the minute in a digital clock (i.e., 12:12). Note: those using military time can have double the chances!

- When throwing coins into a fountain

- When you find a penny (one cent) on the ground (more luck will come if you keep the penny in your shoe).

- When you see three birds on a telephone wire

- When you see a falling star or the first star of the night

- When an eyelash falls out, except if it falls out in the bathroom. Balance it on your fingertip, make the wish then blow the lash away as far as you can.

- When you have a ladybug in the palm of your hand (alive)

- When blowing all the needles out of the a dandelion in one go

- If you get the bigger half of a wishbone

- Before you eat a blue m&m

I personally love the last bit - and my wish is usually for more m&ms!

Four Quick Fixes for No-Timers

Warning: This can be read in two ways. Either as a very shallow post or a post that seeks the beauty in little things in life. You decide!

1. Eye make-up in a bronze palette - an alternative to the smoky eye look for Chinese eyes. While black can make the eyes look defined but smaller, a bronze sweep can literally make eyes pop and enhance the colour of your iris.

2. Hair cut that stays put from yesterday, thanks to dry shampoo - if you want to maximize that great salon cut, spray on some nice smelling dry shampoo for that extra oomph and body.

3. A change in hair parting - this can literally give you a new look in seconds.

4. Breathing fresh air in lieu of making coffee to wake you up - any chance to grab family time (and show off a post-preggy bod) in the great outdoors should be embraced wholeheartedly. Laziness be damned - walk throug the pain!

Sophie and Warrick

This is how these two get along: Warrick is always curious as to what Sophie is doing while Sophie does her own thing regardless...


Warrick: I want to be in this shot too!
Sophie: Fine, fine.


Warrick: Hey, watcha doing, show me, show me!



Warrick (in sumbong mode): Look o, she doesn't want to share!

When the Wee One Wees

I read an article some time ago, before I gave birth, where it said that parents can expect to spend up to £1,000 (roughly $1,800 or Php 100,000) on nappies for one baby alone. At that time I scoffed at that, especially as nappies nowadays come to around £0.13 to £0.19 each, and it seemed impossible that a kid could use more than 5,000 nappies before he/she is toilet trained. It just didn't seem possible to me then. I remember thinking, babies' stomachs are quite small and their bladders and intestines as well - they can't possibly "go" that much, surely?

Fast forward to six weeks after little (?) Sophie's birth and now I believe the article's estimate was a pocket friendly one, and a little on the cheap side. Some days I don't think I've done other things aside from nappy changing. It's the first thing we do when she wakes up, what we do before meals, during commercial breaks, before and after Christian comes back from the park, and definitely one of the last things we do at night, apart from praying that she sleeps a little bit longer this time.

To further this point: Christian and I have set up three "changing" stations in the house in order to anticipate her nappy changing time table. One in the bedroom, so she doesn't have to go far when she wakes up to feed, pee or poo. One in the bathroom, so she doesn't have to go far after her bath or daily wash-up. One in the living room above her movable cot (thanks Kada!) so WE don't have to go far when we are watching our favourite shows (for those of you who are curious, it's CSI), Play Station games (currently the Assassin's Creed) and the daily paper/mag (FT for Christian, Now, Heat, OK, Grazia, Ideal Home, and Marie Claire for me).

Sometimes we go through two nappies each change, because just as we are about to close the deal on the new nappy, the wee one does another wee or poo. Most of the time it is comical, the other times it is more of a "grin and bear it" situation - some baby clothes are hard to pull on and off after all. Sometimes, when we hear her do a poo (from an attention seeking BRAAAAAAAAAA-TAT-TAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT to the ooopsie pooot-tooot), Christian and I wait for a few seconds as we know a second one is coming to combat the first. If it doesn't come after some moments, we debate on whether or not to change her nappy or wait some more and let her stew in her sh*t. Needless to say, the first option is what we always do, and inevitably, she poos or wees again. If we're lucky, into the old nappy or into the new one. If we're unlucky - well - anywhere but.

Times like these, I have to keep my sense of humour and understanding - she is not trying to be mean (even at 3am in the morning) when she goes through nappy after nappy. After all, it can't be comfortable having your done your business and feel it close to your privates after the fact. So, whenever she has to go, she goes, and I am just lucky to be there to catch it, clean it, and bin it for my baby. Besides, when I am old, gray and incontinent... BWA-HA-HA, karma will be a b*tch :)

Christian and the Smurf

Fave Pic of the Day

"What are you lookin' at?!"

What Happens When...

...Sophie mistakes a nose for the nipple? Now she knows the answer to "Got Milk?"

And The News For Today Is...

...my baby needs a laxative!

Caveman Dad

This happened sometime yesterday morning, maybe around 4am,and it was one of the funniest mornings Christian and I ever had.

Background
Julie is bent over the moses basket looking at Sophie who is emanating a mosquito-like wail. Christian slowly stirs at the noise. Christian jumps out of bed. Crosses the room to where the moses basket containing Sophie is. Without saying a word he picks her up and, in one motion, slings her over his shoulder and gives her a loud whack on the back.

Julie: (Surprised and a little alarmed) What are you doing?! She doesn't need to burp. She hasn't drunk any milk yet.
Christian halts in his action and just stares sleepily at Julie.
Julie: She's just going to sleep if you carry her. I was watching her to see if she would crap.
Christian: (Slowly waking up)Oh.
Christian then puts her back in the basket and goes to the toilet. When he comes back he is more awake.
Christian: (Smiling and sheepish) Sorry, didn't mean to interfere.
Julie: (Giggling)You're such a caveman! (Lowers her voice to imitate Christian) Oh. Baby making noise. Papa pick up baby. Whack!
Christian and Julie break down in hysterical laughter.

Meanwhile... there is a nappy to be changed!

Gangsta Soph

Just when it all got to me and I was ready to concede defeat to the crying machine that is my baby, I came across this picture and suddenly, she wasn't so loud anymore. (this is a big deal because for those of you who know me, you know I have very little patience!) :)

Give When You Take

When you are single, everything can be about you and what you want in life. You have a clean slate to do whatever you want with it, and the horizon can stretch out as far as you can see. Sure, you feel pangs of "I wish I had a boy/girl friend to share this all with" but overall, it's a pretty good feeling to know you are in the Master of your own fate.

Fast forward to when you are dating - suddenly (especially if you like this person; if you don't, stop dating them!) everything is dependent on what the other person's schedule is like. There are a lot of "I want to go out but is this person free?" and "I wish he/she would call", etc. Although you still have the power of decision, you choose to be dependent on what the other person has the capacity for.

Skip a chapter to when you have settled down in a stable (ball and chain) relationship (be it steady dating, an engagement or a marriage), and things become more complicated when it comes to making decisions and deciding what comes first. Obviously there has to be some sort of compromise because, unless the other person is dead from the neck up, there are two minds thinking different things in this twosome (or threesome if both of you are that adventurous; not that I can comment or advice on this situation - but feel free to share if you can!:)).

Believe me, compromise doesn't mean finding an amicable solution all the time. Most of the time it can be broken down into "com-e (on) promise (me) you'll do this" - see where I'm going with this?! Often times there is no middle ground. Your best bet in keeping the peace is to completely jump ship - to the other side of the argument ASAP. Not only will you be able to salvage any good will left before the fight started, you will also be able to hold it over his/her head in the future saying "well, I ALWAYS give in to you and you NEVER give in to me."

Seriously though, the golden rule does apply in all aspect of two-someness, especially when an innocent third party (pet, baby, friends, etc) is involved. Treat others as you would want them to treat you, give when you take and, like they say in Kindergarten: play nice y'all. That other person is your other half, the person who, despite all odds, you have decided to spend most if not all of your time with and, finally, the person who despite yourself, chose to be with you for who you are and vice versa - surely that should allow for some degree of flexibility (at least on good days!)?

Zombie Baby

This is going to be a short post because... MY BABY HAS NOT SLEPT SINCE ROUGHLY 4AM. She has dozed off here and there, but it is no where near her usual sleeping pattern of napping during the day.

Short of drugging her with downers, we have done every trick in the book.

On another note, she HAS turned over by herself four times today before getting irritated that we were turning her back to her starting point.

Hmmm... maybe she is staying awake to get back at us for that. Ah, so young and already she understands the universal notion of give and take.

Dog Days

Since we've had Sophie, Christian and I realized that we have less and less time for Warrick (our pet Shih-tzu). Not that Warrick complains out loud, as he is one of the calmest dogs around, but still. In my mind he is silently humf-ing that he is being left out of play time and cuddle time when he sees/hears/smells us with Sophie. He looks especially wounded when he looks at me holding Sophie as she feeds. His big, round eyes cause enough guilt to compete with a Weight Watcher's after he/she has eaten a Krispy Kreme doughnut.

As a result, we spend what time we could to engage him and show him he is still a part of our lives. Christian still walks with him and Sophie and we both cuddle him at night, when Sophie is asleep. I have also lately taken to expressing milk in the early morning in the living room downstairs, and he follows me for a cuddle, just the two of us.

A lot of people will say that we're going through a lot of trouble for a dog - and they might be right. Still, I think it's worth it - after all, Warrick brought Christian and me closer together, and we have so many wonderful memories (to come) to thank him for.

Thanks Baby-Boy Warrick!

Crepe-tastic!

I went to bed last night wondering what tomorrow holds as I have not felt in control of myself (my body, my schedule, etc) lately. Then, this morning I woke up to MLH (my loving hubby) holding beautiful yellow-red roses in one hand and a yummy Nutella crepe in the other. Things can only get better after that!

How To Screw Your Kid Up So She Ends Up Perfect

I am just staring at my just-over-one-month-old daughter feeling sorry for her because I know, in one way or another, I am going to screw her up. It could be as simple as introducing her to a lot of unecessary hair products (one of my main vices), it could be as complicated as deflating her self-esteem on a continuous basis (I have been told that my snide comments have this effect).

I'm sticking my neck out when I say that all parents, no matter how good our intentions, will affect our children in good and in bad ways. It's human nature - we affect our own parents and family members, friends, colleagues and even enemies that way, so why not our own offspring who we will have even more close familial ties with? We can only cross our fingers, say a prayer, and hope that the damage we do is limited, and the joy we bring surpasses any, a lot of, or all of the hurt we will inadvertently inflict.

One of the issues I had with my parents growing up was their seeming paranoia that something bad would happen to me. There were times, especially in my teenage years when I felt like the princess in Sleeping Beauty - afraid that I would prick myself on a spindle, I was locked up and allowed only a few friends and limited activity. For instance, my curfew up until I was 18 was 10pm, and even then I had a nanny or a bodyguard tailing my every move. This is an example of my parents meaning well, because anyone living in the Philippines know that it is anything but safe, but it is also an example of how it made me realize the life I wanted to live was not the one I was living.

Cynics can point out how far I live from the roost now and say: See, she is escaping to a land far, far away. However, optimists (and I am one of them) can point out that because of that experience, I have forced myself to: follow other avenues outside the bubble of my (then) current existence, challenge myself to change the status quo that I was not happy with, expand my horizons and increase my level and capacity for independent living, among other things. Stretches in myself that I would not have thought possible or even necessary had my parents not put me through their definition of protection and my definition of lock-up.

So.

Here I am staring at my just-over-one-month-old daughter feeling a little better for her because I know, in one way or another, I am going to enrich her life in a way no one else can.

Barley Tea and Chinese Wine...

... make you sweat! And we CAN'T take a cold shower?! Give me a break!!!

What No One Says

I am slowly learning that there are a lot of things new moms feel but no one says out loud. It could be due to wanting to make a good impression on the in-laws and others, not wanting to scare other potential moms, wanting maintain a (false) semblance of control, not wanting to hassle other people for a helping hand, wanting to figure things out for ourselves, not wanting to vocalize our fears thereby making it more real... and probably the second biggest reason of all: knowing that admitting these things will cause other moms to gloat in a silent, passive-aggressive manifestation of competition. Yes, this is another truth no one says - rightly or wrongly, all moms are in competition with everyone, most especially other moms.


As I myself want to save face (as a result of my Chinese heritage), let me list only the watered down version of some home truths I learned these last four weeks of new mommy-hood:

- It is possible to fall in love with your child at first sight. It is ALSO possible to fall into a love-hate relationship with everything else.

- Midwives/doctors are there to help you. They are also there to drive you crazy.

- No one will drive you more crazy that your spouse/partner/supposedly better half.

- Okay, maybe your baby will drive you crazier - but at least he/she is cute and is so defenseless you know they do not mean to do it.

- Families are there to help, encourage and support you... it is up to you to let them know where exactly these efforts should be focused.

- Never leave a window open when you are (un)successfully trying to calm your baby down. The world and their brother can peer in and their tsk-tsking will make you mutter swear words under your breath.

- Cry and the world cries with you. This is true if your baby is crying, not when you are.

- A good partnership is based on communication and trust. You should trust that your partner should know when you are not in the mood to talk.

- Nappies are absorbent but only to a certain degree.

- When changing nappies, do so with military precision. Get the new nappy ready before you remove the old one. Sudden gushes can then be caught and contained.

- Invest in a good rocking chair, but make sure it is not too deep to slide your butt out of when you are about to put your baby down in his/her cot. Tush burns when you have just given birth are a no-no.

- Two words: BIO-OIL.

- Babies cry for different reasons, but they do not necessarily cry differently for different reasons. Figuring out their distress signal is trying to troubleshoot problems existing on a five-year old shared office printer.

- Babies can make you forget everything: the pain it caused you to give birth to them, the nine months of lugging extra weight around, the laundry, the dog, the trash...

- When in doubt, refer to What to Expect in the First Year. For home-grown truthful experience, refer to Mumsnet.com.

- Motherhood is not always pretty in the way Angelina Jolie is - she has a S.W.A.T. (Stop and Waylay Any Toddler) team at her beck and call. Us normal people DO NOT.

I could go on and on, but let me leave you with this thought (yes, before I forget). I mentioned the second biggest reason why no new mom would like to admit the above, or anything remotely close or more major that the above; now let me mention the biggest: no one says these things out loud because they drown out their fears, complaints and frustrations with hope. Hope that tomorrow will be better. Hope that one day the baby will settle down/behave/do what it says in the book. Hope that through all the trials and tribulations, the laughter and fun times will emerge triumphant. Hope that some day, one day, we will become better moms and our children will grow up to be stronger than we ever could.

One Thing for Sophie

I sang/wrote this when I was changing Sophie's dirty nappy at 2am (to the tune of Barbie Girl, by Aqua):

She's my Sophie girl
In her Sophie world
What a nappy
It's so crappy
How could my little bear
Crap this much everywhere
Excrement-ation
Poo was her creation

Come on nappy
In the trashy

(Repeat as desired, or until you lose your mind)

Things I Am Thankful for Today

1. My mom.
2. Her little lessons about life and everything therein, even if I don't follow them sometimes.
3. My second brother.
4. His sense of humour.
5. My sister-in-law.
6. Her fashion sense.
7. Her willingness to help.
8. Her Talking Tom app.
9. My husband.
10. Him working during odd hours so he has enough time to spend with us while #s 1, 3 and 5 visit.

Why Moms Are Like Head Cheerleaders in High School

10. They are very observant and can spot a fault a mile away.
9. They can be critical of faults observed and are not afraid to say so.
8. The power of criteria definition on what makes a newbie good is in their hands.
7. They stick together with other cheerleaders and can gang up on you.
6. They devise routines that would cause most great gymnasts to wail in despair.
5. They insist on respect - after all, they got to the top doing what you do - only better. Always.
4. They raise their left eyebrows in disdain pretty well if you break #5.
3. They protect their reputation and that of their squad quite fiercely.
2. They love their squad and will put them through hell if need be, if it means getting the best out of them by pushing them to their limit.
1. They are the best at cheering you on when the going gets tough.
Gooooooo Mama!

The Picture That Launched A Thousand Awwws

I just wanted to share this lovely picture of Sophie as she gracefully rests her head on her hands. She had just finished feeding and, as you can see, was feeling quite content. I will probably have this picture blown up and printed so I can hang it on her bedroom wall - it's something that will remind me that she was once peaceful and quiet. I'll bet it will come especially handy during her teenage years.

Skippidy do dah

I just realized that I skipped writing about the early years of marriage (two) and the pregnancy stage and dove straight into Sophie Ann's birth! Clearly this is why I cannot cut it as a journalist as my timeline is all wrong - plus I am not sure I will remember all the facts after so long a time. However, it must be said that trying never hurts, so here goes: an attempt (or two or three) about the missing links.

In order for you guys to get a clear picture of early coupled/dating life - I have to say it is no different from living in a mixed dorm - the bathroom, kitchen, living room and hallway time is up for grabs. First come, first served, unless the person with the loudest voice decides to use it. In our case, Christian and I didn't really have this issue as he was a morning shower man and I was a "I'll wash when I'm dirty" kind of girl. At that time though, in order to make it seem like I was being a dutiful gf, I passed my flexible bathing regime as "you go first honey, I love you."

It is also never easy sharing a living space with someone who is not physically you. Their habits, cleaning techniques (or lack thereof) and relaxing timetables are all designed to drive you up the wall. In a small space (hello London), these issues are magnified to an nth degree, the "nth" magic exponent being dependent on how much love, compromise, or even "oh I give up" between each couple. Christian and I had a lot of the first and third, so it was better than we expected.

Our first flat was a first floor, one bedroom apartment in a conversion (house that was re-modeled into several flats) in Kilburn. The bedroom was a decent size with enough closet space for him (not for me), but the kitchen was joined to the living room, and consisted of a small dorm-sized fridge (no freezer), a small cooking range (no oven), and a sink. Thankfully the bathroom was modern (no bath, great shower), albeit with weak water pressure. Two plumbers later and the issue still stands - making it take twice as long to have clean hair.

Small as it was, it was ours (meaning, we paid the rent), and that meant something. It was a bit of an independent stake-out; what we hoped would be our first step into the property market (we are still stepping around - more on this later). While Christian's parents came and lamented on how small the space was (I've no doubt my parents would have reacted the same way as the entire flat was the size of my bedroom in Manila), we nontheless appreciated on how it was cozy and made us run into each other a lot which, as new live-ins in the honeymoon phase, was lovely.

The neighborhood was ideal as well, as we were five minutes away from the tube, and ten minutes away from a bustling (if unsafe) high street. We could get groceries delivered (as we were both working), had a park nearby to walk Warrick in (we gave him a daily tour of the druggies, the hoodies with mean Staff dogs) where he had his own posse consisting of two huge rotweilers, several staff pups and a jack russel. In retrospect it may not have been the most secure livng area, but it was what we could afford and what we knew best.

A lot of people don't know this but, when I first came to London, I lived in a rented basement room not far from the flat I was to share with Christian. It was rented out by a family of three who lived above me. The basement had two rooms (so I had several roommates), a small laundry room with a portable cooking range so it also served as a kitchen, and a small shared bathroom with tub and shower. Again, it was all I could afford (£120 a week!) and which made sense at that time as I was rarely there due to work trips. When my mom and Jo visited, she wanted to see where I was living but I was adamant not to take her there. I am sure she would have cried if she saw the only window I had was a small rectangular pane that would show me views of people's feet as they walked by!

This was the reason why the one bedroom was already a luxury for me, as well as for Christian as it meant we could be together in a lively area, for a reasonable cost. If it meant that we could experience London life in that way, even without living like royalty, it was still a good adventure to have with a new husband. It made me realize that small things can make you happy, and up to today, I believe that no matter how small the space, there will always have room for contentment and happiness.

Sophie's First Days - In the Hospital

This is one of my first pictures of feeding Sophie. Normally moms are encouraged to breast feed right after the baby's birth, but as Sophie and I needed recovery time (after an assisted delivery), we only got to feed and cuddle an hour after the birth.



Sophie the day after the birth, in her first onesie, care of Kathi and Thommy. Her top fits into the shirt well, but with the nappy, the butt area is quite tight. This was my first experience of putting a nappy on her as the midwives did her first one.



After her first bath, care of a midwife in the hospital. On the baby's first or second day, a midwife passes through the ward to help teach new moms how to give baby their first bath or top and tail (water rinse of the baby's head and tush areas).



Wearing her first "strampler" (German for baby-gro) care of Lisa and Jaime. You can see on her cheek the bruises that resulted from the doctor using forceps on her to drag her out of me. In addition to the bruising on her face, her left shoulder is also affected and we were told by the doctors that it would be sore for a few days. Poor baby.



Sophie strapped in her car seat, ready for home. We managed to convince the pediatrician to release us two days earlier than planned, and it is all due to Sophie's quick recovery from a temperature and her bruises.



A new chapter is about to begin! Watch this space!

My Answer to What the Birthing Experience Was Like

"You know how they say new mothers have selective amnesia and conveniently forget the pain and trauma of childbirth (i.e., how human beings go on to have more children)? well, not in my case :) i think i remember every time i screamed or grunted in pain and how - no matter how painful - in the end when you see that round face (albeit uncleaned) - you see the most perfect thing in the world :)"

-sent to Lisa Andrade-Chacon via email

Reviving This Old Blog

I promised my husband that I would write for at least an hour everyday. Never mind if what I produce turns out to be gibberish, bless him, he still wants to read it. Now that is love, if not totally blind devotion.

So, this is the new phase of my writing/ creativity/ method of keeping sane throughout this new experience that is wife-dom and motherhood. Who knew building a family would be tiring, frustrating, and hopefully, eventually, rewarding (yes, strictly in that order)? I hope to approach this with a lot of willpower and a good sense of humour when the will power fades.

Also, I want to make this a beautiful time for my new family - and I want to remember the good times, the bad times, the so-so nothing new times so there is something to look back on when I am old and grey and have dementia. So, here's to new beginnings... and revivals.

Previously Posted 12 (January 22, 2008)

One of my first ever posts in the old blog (The Leather Diaries). One of the comments my friends made was that if I could write this sentimentally about a pet, what more a son/ daughter? Well, you guys are about to find out, so watch this space!

________________________________________

Baby Boy (re-post from an earlier blog)

It was a whirlwind courtship. The ad said golden brown male with black markings, young and trained. I called the number posted and immediately got in touch with Jonathan, a young, muscular man with a jolly smile and even jollier sense of humour. And, in his arms, was my baby boy. He was only eight weeks old, with huge brown eyes, and golden brown all over with black markings on his ears and muzzle. The minute he climbed over my lap and chest to bury his head in my neck, I was smitten. This was it – I had fallen in love with baby boy Warrick.

Maybe I should backtrack a little – lay the foundation of how this whole thing started in the first place.

My boyfriend of four years had promised me that we could get a dog. He always had one growing up and could remember all the walks and tricks it would do together with him and his family. As all of them were of strong, German stock, the household owned well-exercised pooches. One thing his pets had in common was their dislike of walking in the rain. No amount of cajoling would bring these terriers out when droplets fell from the sky, much less when a steady stream would pour out. My hunch is, they were Gremlins in disguise. Either that, or they sincerely thought they would melt if water hit them.

I also used to have one before my dad claimed allergies (of course, he was allergic to everything) and I had to leave the dog outside the house at night. This lack of attention made her (my dog Jessica) go berserk and slutty, so she slept with a huge amount of mongrels before one finally made her pregnant. Both of them decided to elope and after a few weeks Jessica had run away. Needless to say this broke my heart, and since then I had always wanted to have a dog that I could treat right and love in my own way, allergies notwithstanding.

Anyway, when I turned to my boyfriend, Christian, a gorgeous and caring man, and demanded, “Well, where’s this dog, then?!” This led to a series of discussions about how he didn’t have time to take care of a dog, how I didn’t have time to take care of a dog, and how his earlier promise was made in haste and that he didn’t really think it through. I shortened his definition by calling it an “empty” promise and all hell broke loose. Finally, I said a good compromise would be to get a pet rabbit – something cuddly yet a more low maintenance option than a dog. Christian was on board for the first ten minutes before he started talking to another one of our friends who is a quintessential dog lover (who thought rabbits were only good for eating) – and hell broke loose – again.

Between fighting about getting a rabbit and not getting one, we realized that what we really wanted was a small, can live in an apartment dog that we could love and call our own. Our research online led us to THE ad, which led me to make THE phone call, and which led us to OUR baby boy Warrick.

The night before we picked him up Christian and I stayed up late talking about what we should get him for a puppy bed, what shampoo to wash him with, what type of food we should feed him, etc… We then moved on to subjects such as how having a puppy would limit our social life, at least for the next two months, and how we would no longer be able to afford lavish holidays where pets were not allowed. What followed next was huge bouts of laughter as we didn’t consider ourselves to have a party lifestyle (far from it – our ideal nights include CSI marathons and a home cooked meal) and we were never on any lavish holidays (the most expensive vacation we ever took was a two week road trip around Northern China on a sleeper train with six people per sleeping bunk).

When we went to pick him up, we were a bundle of nerves. I still wasn’t sure if the box we brought along was big enough to keep him from jumping out the minute the tube got dark and scary (in between St. John’s Wood and Baker Street on the Jubilee line, among other routes) and Christian was worried about how I would react if the puppy poo-ed in the box on the ride home. By the time we got to Jonathan’s house and Christian took the puppy in his arms, we were sweating inside and grinning like prize idiots on the outside. In the end, it was the puppy (then not yet named) who suffered the most as it kept wanting to look about and whimpering whenever Christian’s arm would block his line of sight. Why he wanted to study the poise of a pigeon ruining a blonde woman’s hairdo with a little drop of white is beyond me.

On the tube, everyone was staring at him (not Christian, the puppy, although Christian maintains people were also looking at him and going “Awwww, how cuuuuute….”) and he lapped up the attention (Christian, not the puppy). When we were trying to decide on a name, it was like we were trying to name the eigth Disney dwarf (i.e., Fluffy, Scruff, Muffy, Toffee). In the end, however, I wanted to name him after my favorite CSI character - Warrick Brown.

Christian balked at first, saying that Warrick was too hard to yell when we wanted to call the puppy to come, and it would take me, especially, a long time to pronounce the "Rs" in his name. However, I was quite adamant, and so Warrick it was. To this date, Christian is quite happy we named our little ragamuffin "little Warrior"... and all the British people like the name on such a small runt.

Wherever we go to walk him, people stop us on the street and we end up talking about everything and anything, so the dog is a good ice-breaker. One of our friends even asked if he could walk Warrick solo in the park so girls could come up to him and talk to him. And kids - the kids love him! Girls squeal and boys want to hold his leash and run around with him (I let the good ones do it because the bad ones tend to let go of the leash when Warrick outruns them).

Feeding is fun because we taught him how to shake paw, speak (bark - he says "ruff"), be a bear (sit on his butt and lift his entire body straight up) and to wait (we place the food in front of him and he isn't allowed to go near it until we say "okay"... pure torture!). He also knows his name, knows when one of us is happy with him (I say "baby boy" over and over again and Christian rubs his head until Warrick purrs in delight), and he is truly aware when one of us is mad with him. He ends up giving us the round (completely round) wide-eyed, "don't yell at me I'm just a puppy" look and we end up having to turn our backs as we convulse with laughter. Ah... he holds the remote, Warrick does.

Warrick's sleeping now, and I just lay flat on the floor to bump noses against him. That's how I let him know I love him. He then licks my face all over (he especially likes the nose area) to let me know he feels the same way. Sigh... puppy power...

Previously Posted 11 (January 23, 2008)

Again, although an oooollllddddd post, I still stand by this selection as some of the best/ most interesting books I have ever read.

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Recommended Books - List one (taken from the old blog)

I promise to keep posting about new books I've read and liked... meanwhile, I hope you check the following out as they are really, really good reads!

A Piece of Cake by Cupcake Brown
A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini
Atonement by Ian McEwan
Big Fish by Daniel Wallace
By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept by Paulo Coehlo
His Dark Materials Trilogy (Northern Lights, The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass) by Philip Pullman
Love by Toni Morrison
Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil by John Berendt
Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman
Small Island by Andrea Levy
Stardust by Neil Gaiman
The Book of Lost Things by John Connolly
The Comfort Women by George Nicks
The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time by Mark Haddon
The Devil and Miss Prym by Paulo Coelho
The End of Innocence by Moni Mohsin
The Godfather by Mario Puzo
The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck
The Griffin and Sabine Trilogy by Nick Bantock
The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini
The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis
The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold
The Memory Keeper's Daughter by Kim Edwards
The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie
The Other Boleyn Girl by Philippa Gregory
The Other Woman by Jane Green
The Portrait by Iain Pears
The Sandman (collection) written by Neil Gaiman
The Sin City Collection by Frank Miller
The Time Traveller's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
The Wedding by Nicholas Sparks
The World According to Garp by John Irving
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom
Vater und Sohn (collection) by Eirch Ohser
Wild Swans by Jung Chang

Previously Posted 10 (January23, 2008)

Although a posting made two years ago - it still holds true today!
______________________
Magazine Schedule

Monday - none!
Tuesday - Hello or OK, Grazia or Heat
Wednesday - US Magazine and People
Thursday - none!
Friday - none!

Last Monday of the month: possibly Cosmopolitan, Company, one travel magazine, some bridal magazines (see www.becomingfunke.blogspot.com), Marie Claire, Glamour and In Style.

It's an addiction, I know, I know.

Previusly Posted 9 (January 24, 2008)

Just Learned That...

Gimp actually means the submissive character in an S&M relationship...and here I thought it was a really cute word.

Previously Posted 8 (January 24, 2008)

A Goodbye Poem

If yours was a happy life cut short
I am sorry.
If it was not, then I hope you are at peace
Wherever you are.
If your last thought made you smile
I hope you remember it forever.
If it made you cry
Then I hope your tears washed it away.
I will miss you, as everyone will miss you.
Goodbye, take care.
Give the angels a high five...

Previously Posted 7 (January 26, 2008)

HAZEL CAME!!!

Fact: Hazel is one of my oldest friends.
We met each other or, to be more precise, our nannies met each other when we were both in Nursery (at the age of 3). We were students in a school that had standard brown uniforms (the exact shade of poo) and were sectioned into classrooms that were named after fruits. I think I was in Grape and she was in Orange, or something like that.

Fact: Hazel makes everything funny.
She has this laugh that is so contagious, it's hilarious. Once she starts going on something, it's hard for her to stop giggling, and I've seen her cry from laughing on more than one occassion. I get red when I drink, she gets red when she is happy.

Fact: Hazel gets along with everybody.
Not only does she manage to get free dishes from restaurant owners, she manages to charm even the most cynical person. Just ask her to tell stories about "teribo".

Fact: It's nice to have her around.
Everything was fun - and serious at the same time. We managed to catch up on each other's lives and worries, ups and downs. We went to the salon, the eyelash salon (more on this on becomingfunke.blogspot.com) and lunch at Busaba Eathai today and everything was more fun just by having her there to bounce ideas off of. She also made me open up about how I felt about my current family situation and walked me through a detailed "what if" scenario if they didn't come around.

Fact: It's sad to see her go.
We parted ways at the Kilburn tube six hours ago, and suddenly the apartment seems quieter somehow.

Hurry back Haze.

Previously Posted 6 (March 10, 2008)

A word about this previous posting: this was written at a time when I felt there was no such thing as unconditional love. I have since learnt that change can occur when you least expect it.
_________________________

To Whom It May Concern

I've written this poem for those of you (you know who you are) who have nothing nice to say and still open your mouth to say it. This is for those of you who use your fingers to text messages that hurt me, the one you supposedly love.

Quite honestly, it's not me you love, it's what you want me to be that you love. I can't live up to that image so, for better or worse, let's just stop the relationship here. If you want it to continue, accept me for who I am, accept my decisions that this is what I want to do.

And, make up your mind. If you want to be a part of my life, then stop giving me mixed signals. Let's be mature about the whole thing, agree to disagree, and let me live my life... to either learn from my mistakes or reap the benefits of a good decision. Either way, I will get hurt, laugh, cry... LIVE.


To Whom It May Concern

It must be hard to live in a glass bubble,
Where no one can touch you,
And you cannot touch.

It must be hard to live in your cave,
Always looking out,
And seldom seeing much.

It must be hard to speak loudly,
And never have to listen,
Or be listened to.

It must be hard to build a wall,
That no one can breach,
And one you cannot break through.

Previously Posted 5 (March 17, 2008)

Things I Live For

Why live if not for love? This was what my first philosophy teacher taught me in Ateneo. Thanks you Ms. Reyes, your lessons lives on now more than ever.


Love’s Philosophy

Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)

The fountains mingle with the rivers
And the rivers with the oceans,
The winds of heaven mix forever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by law divine
In one spirit meet and mingle.
Why not I with thine?

See the mountains kiss high heaven
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
If it disdained its brother,
And the sunlight clasps the earth
And the moonbeams kiss the sea:
What is all this sweet work worth
If thou kiss not me?

Previously Posted 4 (April 2, 2008)

From Christian

Warrick is a pain in the ass today.

…first he rolls in shit in the park…
…then he nips a bite from my chicken on the table while I am on the phone and shortly distracted…
…and now he liked the chicken so much that he doesn’t want to eat dinner, but keeps complaining and sitting at the table…

What a spoilt brat the little one…

Beste Grüße
Christian

Previously Posted 3 (June 4, 2008)

In The Space Between Spaces

I never thought a profound idea could come to me in the midst of viewing the latest Indiana Jones movie. It was in the scene where Indiana asks, "Where is it going? Into space?" And Oxley answers, "In the space between spaces." What made me smile at an otherwise cheesy line was the fact that I often wondered how to describe "in the meantime" in a more poetic way, and it was ironic that the best definition would come from an action-adventure movie directed by Steven Spielberg.

The reason why "in the meantime" touches me is because there are times in my life, and maybe even in everyone`s life, where I seem to stop moving from one milestone to another. For that brief period in time, I see more than one choice in front of me and I have to sit on a proverbial bench and reflect awhile. For that brief period in time, I am at peace because there is no push to move forward, only my own inertia guiding the pace of my actions. It is at this point where I feel that, regardless of the way I go forward, the way I have come from was not too bad. Until I get to my next point, in the meantime, I at least have these moments to myself.

The space between spaces is where I catch my breath, or draw it in large gulps in anticipation of the next big thing to come. One or the other. This or that. It`s a space for introducing the about-to-be-old-me to the about-to-be-new-me, and surprising myself at the amount of difference that lies between the two. Some would call it the calm before the storm, others would say it is the quiet aftermath. I think it can be both.

Think about this - to have a space between spaces. To have a breather in the midst of an infinite number of possibilities, past and present. If one believes in destiny, then these are interim moments scattered amongst the infinite number of steps towards that end goal. If one does not believe in destiny, then the space between spaces is a the vantage point from whence to view the billions of possibilities that could happen.

I am in a space between spaces as I write this. I am catching my breath after a long but steady run, and I am preparing myself for the next sprint forwards. I think I have stayed long enough in this space to know that I don`t know what tomorrow holds, if it will be better or worse than today or yesterday. But, in the meantime, I take a breath.