Wednesday, February 29, 2012

It's in the genes, somewhere

He has recently learnt how to make monkey faces. 

if you have them, squeeze them!

i squeeze them good

and i also have to practise my smothering look.
pardon the poker card. my parents are using it to teach me numbers

look ma! i have straight teeth!

my boyband look

the second one

And on the speech development part, the son is a talker. He still mumbles a whole lot of jumble but when it comes to communicating his needs and wants, he is able to do so very well.

When he feels he has eaten enough, he will go "I'm done!" and I'll take one look at his bowl and go, " Not so fast young man, you're not done".

When he's at the supermarket or at any store, he'll pick up some sweets or chocolates and go, "This one?" and I'll go, "No way. Put it back". Unless I'm craving for it too, then we'll share.

And the longest sentence he ever conjured was when  looking for his father and he'll go, "Daddy! Where are you? I can't see you!"


P.S: Both the husband and I started talking late, around 3 years old. So it's really a mystery to us who he takes after.

Friday, February 24, 2012

One small step for the son, but giant savings for my wallet

In terms of milestone, I think this pretty much tops the list.

The son is sort of toilet trained, on the peeing part.

We sort of got him started months ago when during every shower, I'll take off his clothes and diaper and make him go 'ssh ssh' at the shower area. Slowly, it progress to the toilet bowl where I'll just carry him up and go 'ssh ssh?' And ssh ssh ssh ssh ssh ssh, you get the drift.

Also, other signs that showed me he was sort of ready to be toilet trained was that after every nap, his diaper would still be dry or that after a few hours, when I would want to changed his diaper, it stayed dry. That sort of convinced me that perhaps he's ready. I've also done some research online and they all said the same things.

And so we took the plunge and went diaper-less yesterday. And he has prompt us when he would like to go 'ssh ssh'. He did this by grabbing his diaper and go 'ssh ssh' and that was the cue.

Right now, we're working on the pooping part. But we're definitely not in a hurry to rush him. Pee is easier to clean than poop, don't you think?

P.S: In a bid to encourage him to drink more water too, I've told him the more water he drinks, the more he'll get to ssh ssh. He thinks its fun to do so because his aim is really bad and when he sprays all over, he laughs big time.  

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

We drove all the way for this

Went on a mini food trip with the parents in law to Malacca over the weekend. Everytime we go there, we always go back to the same stall for our laksa and chendol fix. Its the best! To us, the stall's name is simply 88 Jonker Street ha.

Some pictures to share:

the most awesome Assam laksa, ever

the most awesome chendol, ever

the most awesome husband and kid, ever

the most awesome sister, with her newfound boyfriend,ever?

the awesome kid with the yellow guy tagging behind
thankfully, he got deflated along the way
Had loads of fun just walking around, tasting and eating the good food along their night market at Jonker Street. Shopped around their shopping malls, went up their historical site, climbed up an old fort and simply just hang out together as a family.

Came back with pineapple tarts and tau sau piah and happy bellies for everyone.

Next stop, Ipoh?

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

The truth will truly set you free

Spot the baby bump or post lunch/dinner tummy:

top: Cotton On, floral maxi skirt: BKK, flats: Gmarket

actual baby in baby bump

We finally made a trip to the gynae yesterday and found out I'm 11 weeks into the pregnancy. That's almost the end of my first trimester!

Second round this time, I'm feeling alot more queasy and craving for more sweet stuff than the first. And alot more muddle headed. This would be an understatement though, heh.

Before we found out I was pregnant, I was in denial all the time. The husband keep insisting I do a home pregnancy test but I keep resisting it, insisting instead that it's my period. A month and a half went past and I was still insisting it.

Only after we finally got it tested at home and confirmed at a GP, then it really sink in. Okay, only after yesterday's visit, then it truly sank in that I'm pregnant.

I told you I'm in denial.

P.S:  The husband will tell you my change in learning the truth was a 360 C turn. Immediately after knowing the result, I was like, "Dear, I'm so tired", "My stomach is cramping", "I'm so hungry!" "I want to eat this!"

How would he know? He's never been pregnant before.

Friday, February 10, 2012

You can have it for now. When I get bigger, then it's mine

Every morning when I got on the train, I always asked myself if I should sit in the reserved seat. You know, the supposedly Priority seats meant for pregnant women, the elderly, people carrying a child and those with physical difficulties. I mean, my tummy is not showing much yet, so is it justifiable that I still sit in it regardless the stage of pregnancy?

What do you think?

Anyway, till the day I looked obviously pregnant, I'll just stand for now.

P.S: The son has recently learnt how to express himself verbally. The other day we were watching a documentary on eels, and he went, 'Ewwww gross!' complete with a disgusted look on his face. I have no idea where this kid is learning his stuff from.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

He does soft and I go hard

I really ought to take a photo or a video of how he does it. One look at it and you'll know its fake.

I'm talking about the son's fake crying. Everytime he does that when he gets a scolding from us, he does this fake cry that is so bad that it puts the Razzies winners to shame. Really. And when he knows that its not working, he'll do his ultimate weapon. He'll blow his nose so hard that all the mucus will flow out and dripped all over. We really got a child actor in the makings here.

So yesterday, I was preparing to go out and so I politely told him to keep his toys back into his toy box. He obliged by putting one toy back. So I asked him to keep all his toys back. Went to get ready in the room, went back into the living room and found out he was playing somewhere else. Raised my voice a little to get him to please keep all his toys back into his toy box. No response.

By this time, we were running late and I was getting frazzled. I am a pregnant mother now high on pregnancy hormones and you do not step on my toes like that. Ever.

So I grabbed him by his arm, pulled him to his play area and shouted at him to keep all his toys. By now, he knew he was in trouble and proceeded to cry, a fake cry somemore!

That really blew me off. I took the cane and warned him if he does not keep his toys, I will use the cane on him.

Me: Do you want to keep your toys?
Son: *Shakes his head and cries* Don't want, don't want, put back (he was referring to the cane)
Me: Proceeds to cane him, on his pants.
Son: Cries somemore.
Me: Do you want to keep your toys?!
Son: *Shakes his head and cries* Don't want, don't want.
Me: Canes him on his pants, repeatedly.
Son: Daddy! Daddy!
Me: No looking for Daddy!

By now, he was wailing so loud that he woke the husband up from his nap. The husband then came over and gently told the son to keep his toys.

I then slapped the husband's hands away and told him not to help him.

But he still did. I almost wanted to cane him too.

Anyway after much cajoling from the husband, the son finally kept all his toys back into his toy box. The husband then got him to apologized to me and to give me a hug but I was still so angry and walked away.

Point being?

And too bad for him, I play hard ball.

P.S: Just to clarify on the caning part. I do not use much force when I use the cane. The husband even chided me for caning on his pants. He said one good one on his thighs and he'll be scared, saves you much time too. I'm actually a noob at this. 

*If you're really really angry, that's not the best time to cane a child. Walk away, cool off abit and then discipline. Never cane a child when you know you're losing it. Once you lose it, it becomes abuse.