Jill Writes

1. Baby Khye was sucking on his pacifier and had his little hand near to his mouth. For some reason Thea didn’t want him to be touching his pacifier so she said, “Dun  touchhhhh…. your hand!!!!”

2. When I was carrying Khye in the morning she stretched out both her hands and said, “I carry….”

3. I filled Khye’s bath tub with bath water and went out to undress the little boy. When I came back into the bathroom, I saw Thea sitting on the bath stool, baby clothes in the bath tub, and she was hand-washing Khye’s clothes.

On a daily basis she insists on feeding and kissing her brother several times in a day.

In the recent years I’ve been truly blessed with an abundance of gifts – gifts for Thea (LOTS!), gifts from the hubby, and more amazingly, gifts from crafters.

It is so amazing because most of these crafters are people I’ve never met or people I’ve met once or twice in life and had nothing more than a simple “Hi…” said.

First of all there’s Marlene, who sent me a boxful of colourful brads and a couple of handmade cards thereafter.

Then there’s her friend Liza, who happily purchased (and paid!) lots of Stampin’ Up products on my behalf, answered ALL my questions about purchasing, and threw in an Idea Book for free for me. All this for a girl whom she has not met.

THEN there’s Renee, whom I’ve met not more than a couple of times, who gave me a brand new Sizzix Big Shot machine, a CARDS magazine and some 30 rubber stamps and 30 labels.

The similarity between the 3 friends mentioned are not just that they’re crafters, but they’re all people who love God too

So here’s to the 3 of you – Marlene, Liza & Renee: THANK YOU!

I read The Mommy Diaries - finding yourself in the daily adventure sometime back in July. This book is a compilation of true personal stories contributed by mothers of their motherhood journey.

My favourite piece wasn’t one of the stories from the book, but the introduction to the first chapter of the book: IDENTITY – Owning My Adventure

So I will copy it out, word for word, from my favourite bits of the book:

Wife. Mother. Daughter. Sister. Friend. Moms wear a lot of different hats and fulfill a multitude of roles in any given day. As we shift from personality to personality, it can be hard to remember who we really are – at our core. Life changes us, but despite any maturation, wisdom, and perspective we might gain, our core remains the same. The personhood we were born with stays with us our whole lives through. Our deepest desires, passions, and traits seek outlet as much as ever, even if they are buried deep beneath a mothering exterior.

The practical life of a mom can certainly bring a crashing halt to some of the ways we previously lived out our core values. A woman who used to spend hours a day with her nose stuck in a good book finds it challenging to read a chapter a week between caring for her infant and her rambunctious toddler. (hey, she’s talking about ME!!!)

Who we are serves as a map to guide our journey as adults. Veering from the map leaves us feeling lost, unfulfilled, and inept. But when we do stay on course, our life flows out of who we were created to be. Each task an accomplishment bears the unique fingerprint of our soul. We discover a role only we can fill, an adventure only we can live. That’s when we truly soar and make the most influential impact we can on this world. We might very well be our husband’s wife, our children’s mother, and our parents’ daughter. But we’re first, undeniably, our self.

Eat, Pray, Love is a non-fiction, a self-discovery of pleasure, devotion and balance by Elizabeth Gilbert.

You see, I love God, but I don’t enjoy reading about meditation, religion and the likes. This book is mainly divided into 3 parts – pleasure in Italy, devotion in India, and a balance between worldly enjoyment and divine transcendence in Bali, Indonesia. Naturally I skipped LOTS of paragraphs in this 108 tales book. Having done that, you’d think that I wouldn’t have enjoyed the book much. WRONG – I did!

Now I won’t bore you with WHY I liked the book, but I have found 4 notable things:

1. The only time Kuala Lumpur is mentioned in the book, it was associated with “losing one’s luggage”. Have we really lost so many luggage in our airport that grandly awarded ourselves that title?

2. This sounds totally random, but I laugh EVERY TIME the author’s friend, a Richard from Texas, called her GROCERIES. Imagine being nicknamed GROCERIES. Like, “Hey, wanna do lunch sometime, GROCERIES?” But it’s so so cute, so long as nobody nickname ME that.

3. On a more serious note, it got me thinking about what MY word is. SEX is for Rome, POWER for Vatican, ACHIEVE for New York, SUCCEED for Los Angeles. What is the word that spells me?

4. The book also got me thinking about what are the 3 things I want most in life. The author’s friend said that if any 1 contradicts with the others, you’re in deep trouble.

I think my dear friend, Renee, will enjoy this book.

On August 16, 2010 Elliott Khye Yee, our 2nd child was born.

His estimated due date was on 28 August, 2010. Dr. Huam of DSH forewarned us that if Thea was born 2 weeks early, this little boy will highly likely be as well. In fact, the 2nd labour will most likely be much quicker than the first. Since Thea was born in less than an hour from beginning to the end, she told me to come in whenever something “abnormal” happens. *laughs* that was a very unspecific sign to watch out for, I must say!

On August 15 night the hubby asked if  I was ready for the arrival of the baby. I suppose I was, kinda. The house had less than 10 boxes more to unpack, but definitely livable. My MIL is here to care for Thea. I suppose I was as ready as I can ever be!

The next morning the hubby had an appointment at Putrajaya. He got up early and was stuck in traffic the whole journey there. Alas, he arrived, and received a nice text message from his wife who asked him to be prepared to come home.

I woke up and discovered slight pinkish discharge. I suppose that constituted “abnormality”. Called the doc up and she advised to come in to let her take a look. Asked the hubby to take his time to join me at the hospital while dear friend Coleen drove me there.

At 11.15am the doc checked my dilation. I jokingly told her that the hubby says the baby better come today because he’s got a busy work day the day after doc laughed but said that he wish will come true. “Up to the labour ward NOW!”, she said.

Apparently I was 6cm dilated. Doc said that it must be a good day for delivery since she already had 2 others in the labour ward awaiting labour. While we walked to the labour ward she told me I must have the gift of child birth, still walking and laughing at 6cm. I smiled, and thought, it is a funny (yes, funny, but a very very appreciated) gift to be bestowed with!

The midwife and nurses did the necessary – gave me the hospital gown, gave me the enema, strapped my belly to the CTG machine, and generally potting around to get the room ready while Yipp sorted out the admission, and while I updated Facebook.

From 11.30am to 1pm nothing eventful happened. Doc came to break my water as there was no contractions to hurry along the labour but discovered that there was meconium (he poo’ed in the water). They assured me that his heart beat shows that he is still okay so the waiting game continued. Doc instructed to have me moved to the nearest labour room closest to the lifts.

FINALLY, at about 1pm the contractions came in. It took 2 weak pushes to push Elliott’s head lower with the midwife’s guidance. A couple of minutes later the midwife told the nurse to call for the doc, and asked her to RUN. Imagine my stress when she kept saying “Ask her to RUN. Call EMERGENCY!!!” several times. She hardly had the time to put on her rubber gloves before I had the urge to push again. The midwife told her that with 2 pushes and I’ll be done so be QUICK!

So yes, 2 pushes and Elliott was gushed out with a whole bucket of water splashed ALL OVER.

Before the doc could sew me up she had to RUN to the next room for another delivery.

Elliott was such a sweet docile little boy. There was no feisty crying or kicking, and definitely no weeing on me like Thea did. He just lay there contented with his eyes opened. They placed him on me, skin to skin. I suppose since it’s my 2nd child birth at the same ward and same hospital, I was more aware of my surroundings and not so stressed out. With that I was able to really enjoy the minutes I had with Elliott post birth…

The doc eventually came back to sew me up before having to go to another room to deliver yet another baby for the day. Phew.

Thank God for answering my prayers for a quick labour (hey, less than 5 minutes? who can ask for more?), for giving me sufficient time to prepare for the hospital, and for a whole load of other prayers that I had for this delivery

As Elliott was born small, 2.56kilos, his glucose level was low. He was placed in the Special Care Nursery for 2 days to regulate his glucose. I went to see him 4-5 times in a day.

So my little Elliott Khye was born on August 16, 2010, at 13:08, an answered prayer for an August Baby Boy  – a prayer we made in December 2009.

His name, Elliott means The Lord is My God and Khye (余凯) means victorious and triumphant.

I’m appalled.

Why? This blog has always been about my thoughts on life, family, kids, and all things good and pure. My readers are family and friends who love not just me, but my family, especially Thea, if I may say so. If you take the time to read, the comments left on my blog are by people who adore Thea and would love to hear updates about her.

This is MY space where I share my life – to celebrate joy and to remember moments.

So when individuals take what is pure and good and turn my words into gossip, or twist the intention behind the words, to cause strife within my family, that is just uncalled for. In fact, it is plain wrong. Why cause strife when there’s joy? Why not celebrate life and offer encouragement instead of creating problems? Is not life too short, and too complicated on its own? If I know that, having only lived for 30 years on this earth, what more you?

So do me a favour. If you’re not here to share my concerns as a mother to my children, or to celebrate life together as a friend, take your time elsewhere.

1. Proverbs 18:6
   A fool’s lips bring him strife, and his mouth invites a beating.
   
   
2. Proverbs 20:3
   It is to a man’s honor to avoid strife, but every fool is quick to quarrel.
   
   
3. Proverbs 22:10
   Drive out the mocker, and out goes strife; quarrels and insults are ended.

If your words do not edify, it is better to keep them to yourselves.

This blog is not dead,well, at least not yet. There were so many things I’d like to share but was just overwhelmed with the moving, unpacking, and getting the house and environment ready for the arrival of baby E.

The physical work is almost done. The apartment is left with less than 10 boxes to put into places. Baby E’s room is ready, and so is Thea’s. The most challenging part of the work now is to have someone to take care of Thea’s daily needs – someone to cook for her, feed her, change her, shower her, play with her and put her to bed. The hubby’s mother (hereinafter referred to as MIL) is flown in from her hometown to help with the transition. Unfortunately the transition hasn’t been that smooth.

She’s not napping at the right time and neither is she sleeping well. HOURS before she falls off to bed she’d be tired and wanting me. To distract her, she is given VeggieTales or coaxed into play. Between her tears, wails, play, etc., I can’t rest a bit. I’d like to just grab her and cuddle up with her and just “protect” her from it all, but of course, I didn’t. I had to bite it back, hold it in, and secretly pray that she will just fall asleep. All I could do is to hide in my room, pray, and the feeling of guilt is just overwhelming.

In this season of the time the hubby is also roped in to help. He is tired. I am tired. Thea is tired. EVERYBODY is tired.

I suppose I have to really let go. Let go of the control I have, let go of perfectionism, let go of lots of other expectations. It’s tough, really tough.

Thea is affected, definitely. When she sees my room door closed or even the door to our bathroom closed, she lets out her wail. When left at the church’s nursery she cried. Thank God for a good teacher and helper like Lee Choo

I am stressed, yes, I am. For weeks I’ve labored to get the house ready, and when I think that I am about ready to have baby E into the world, I’m now preparing Thea for the change. The hubby, confinement nanny and the MIL will be of good help, but only the Lord can ease my worries, and give me the assurance of a peaceful household.

Lord, be with us, I pray.

This is how I see  glimpses of a little girl emerging from the little baby whom she used to be:

One day several weeks ago I came in from the balcony with a load of laundry in my arms. With the bump and the laundry, I couldn’t see what was before me, and as I took a step down, my whole weight landed on one of Thea’s plastic toy cup. Yelping in pain, I sat down on the floor holding my right foot. I pointed at her toy and yelled that it shouldn’t be left scattered on the floor! She quickly picked up the cup and ran out into the living area to place it back where it belonged, ran back to me, crouched down on the floor, looked at my face, massaged my bruised foot, and gave me a hug and a kiss.

The pain was BAD. I had a really bad bruise for the next whole week or more. But what I remember more was the fact that Thea did what she thought was ‘right’ at the right time. How to stay angry at her for all that she’s done?

Just a few days ago while we were both getting comfy on our bed to take our afternoon nap, she accidentally knocked her (hard!) head against my brow bone. Again, I yelled out in pain. She held out her palm to pat my face and said, “ohgey? ohgey?“

Isn’t she sweet or isn’t she sweet?!

Miracles by Celine Dion on YouTube

I had one of those sleepless nights 2 days ago. At 5 in the morning, a dear friend, Juli shared with me the song Miracles by Celine Dion. As I listened to lyrics to the song, it really brought tears to my eyes. As silly as this might sound, considering that I’ve spent almost every second of the day in the past 2.2 years with my little girl ever since she was born, I was suddenly brought to realization that I have never really stopped to enjoy this miracle that God has gifted me with. Yes, I feed her, I bathe her, I clean her, I put her to bed, but I’ve always been so ‘on-the-go’ with so many things to do one after another that I was concentrating too much on the doing rather than the enjoying. I clicked through her newborn pictures to her latest pictures on my iphoto and without knowing, I was bawling my eyes out.

Yes there were fleeting moments where we watch her achieve certain milestones and my face would lit up with pride and smile, there were tickling and cuddling, there were moments, but definitely not enough.

Darling Thea,

I’m sorry for all the times I didn’t stop and watch you…

I’m sorry when my actions tell you that I didn’t have time to play with you, and that chores were more important…

I’m sorry that I was too caught up with the presence of you (and all that follows) rather than just enjoying you…

I’m sorry that I didn’t hold you and just watch you breathe and smile… for I am not perfect and have my shortcomings, but I promise you I’ll strive to be better.

At 6 in the morning that day I went back to bed with red puffy eyes. Before sleep came, I stood beside her cot and spent a good few minutes looking at her, patting her bum and stroking her hair. It’s lifelong journey, but I felt like I’ve woken up the next day a better mother.

One of my recent reads have been Elizabeth Noble’s “Things I want my Daughters to Know“. It’s quite strange reading in print what has been on my heart all these while even before I had children myself. I think it might be because my mummy left without leaving me with a special note/letter or something for me to hold on to, besides memories.

I’ve always knew that if time allows (say I don’t just leave this earth in a sudden!), I’d be the type of person who will plan out my own funeral, find the songs to be sung, the dress I’d want to be dressed in, choose my flowers, and will even request all who attend to be dressed in white, my favourite colour – not for mourning, but just that white signifies “simple beauty” to me.

I’d be the type who’d leave letters to people had been close to my heart – family and friends alike. I’d prepare sweet 16th birthday, graduation and wedding gifts to my daughter, all nicely wrapped up. I’d write to my son on different milestones in his life too. I’d write them stories about the mother whom they’ve never known, the mother who was once a little girl, a little daughter herself. I’d write about my dreams, my doubts, and my fears. I’d write about how much I love them. I’d write about what a miracle they are to me, and that in some ways, that I’ll always be there.

I love you, my babies. Yes, even you who is rumbling and tumbling about in my belly.