A C-section Mama Birth Story

My son just turned one year old, and Christmas has come and gone.  A lot has happened since my last post in 2013, one that I regret not writing about. I would have been novel to write down my thoughts on my pregnancy, of becoming a mom and all the hopes and dreams and even Pinterest inspirational photos of all things baby. But things never really work out that way, no matter how much you try or want it.

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Why I’m Saying No to ‘Yaya’

Let me start by saying, I have nothing against Yayas (stay-in Nannies/nursemaids) in general. Being a Yaya or a Katulong (maid) is a profession worthy of respect, as like all service oriented professions it is one of the hardest (and sadly the most exploitable and least professional–at least here). My issue, is how we take to the use of Yayas and Katulongs in general.

As someone who grew up having both a nanny and a maid in our household, one would think that I’d be more open to the idea of hiring one in the future. The opposite can’t be more true, if anything my experiences had taught me some very valuable lessons and guidelines when it comes to hiring, which unfortunately translate to: hiring one for long term is a VERY BAD IDEA. Read more

A little update

I’ve been remiss. The past few weeks (month) had been me staring at my screen wondering to put online. What to write? I look at my folder of various pictures of food and a part of me wants to slap myself.

“SC~~” I can hear my inner voice start to whine. “Another goddamn food review? We all know Feng Wei Wee is fantastic, and you’d be a sorry gourmand for ever not appreciating it! It’s also been blogged to death! Does the internet really need to see another picture of what you had for lunch?” 

Look! More Food Pics!
Look! More Food Pics!

Then the process of feeling shame and remorse begins. Considering my last food review post, it was too early to start another one. As much as I do enjoy food (and I do, and I am tend to be very vocal of what I love and HATE about food and restaurants), I didn’t want my personal blog be mired with nothing about me either praising or bitching about food..again.

Also it’s is detrimental. I have regained a whooping 20lbs from just ‘testing’ these restaurants as of late and I need to go back on the Cohen, stat! If I start blogging about food now, I’ll be back to my pre-Cohen weight in no time! Unacceptable! So that will never do. I had to write something else other than food.

At the time I started blogging years ago, I wanted to make a review blog, it didn’t matter what I reviewed…food, cosmetics, or fashion. I was unfortunately flighty, and focusing on just one thing was decidedly unappealing. So much so that at one point, I actually considered a blog for each category. I figured that was my OCD talking and thought better of it.

A little clutter, and a mess wouldn’t be so bad right?

vanity
Yes, that’s me in the mirror. :p

Speaking of clutter, I’ve decided a few weeks to start de-cluttering my vanity. I’m a certified little pack rat and I have a tendency to accumulate…stuff. Unfortunately, living in a small space and a kleptomaniac cat means that one has to learn to let go and throw away things.

That said, I spent two hours just sorting and cleaning. The results was one I hope to keep.

Unfortunately, I don’t have the “Before” picture of my vanity. I didn’t think of taking a picture when I started cleaning (nor did  I consider making a blog post about it until it was done). But to give you an idea, lets just say that I had a drawer choke full of cosmetics as old as a decade.

As a housewife, I realized I didn’t need as much cosmetics as I used to when I was working. Less is good after all, and that usually means when I do invest in cosmetics I can afford to invest in good quality ones  instead of cheap stuff that you can pick up at the local drugstore. Though in this picture, I need something else to secure the bottles of hair products, lotions and perfumes on my dresser. The open basket is nice, but I have a cat. And Mochi just loves to start digging through my vanity box because it makes crinkly sounds.

Like every other de-cluttering job, the bigger job is keeping it that way for a long time. It’s so easy to forget and end up buying those little things we think we all need. Next thing you know, the vanity’s a huge mess again and I’ll end up sorting and cleaning out stuff I bought but barely used (what a waste!)

I’ll probably dedicate another post on this particular housewife’s choice of cosmetics and toiletries. I didn’t think there’s so much to consider when you’re married and sharing a small (read: cramped) bathroom with someone else. And this time I promise to take pictures.

I’m Back…I hope.

It’s been a year and a month since I had been here. I seem to have gotten the habit of updating yearly, which is a shame. So much has happened lately that I felt a smidgen guilty for not updating.

Well sort of.

The combination of my diet from hell and the stress of the wedding planning would have left me with posts that would probably consist of nothing but HATE. Seriously. And it wasn’t that the wedding preparation was terrible. If anything, everything went smoothly except for one thing…well several but that’s probably because it was one person/designer handling it.

The Dress. And the Groom’s suit. And the entourage’s dresses and suits.

The man gave me no end of grief, wasted my money for which I was forced to purchase a RTW wedding dress from Rosa Clara (I love you, you are my savior! They got my dress ready two weeks before the wedding!) and embarrassed me to the point I either had to buy a replacement or let them wear whatever dress they chose for the wedding.

I hate him sooo damn much. He was the biggest thorn on my side, and the dresses he made were all TERRIBLE. A blind, rabid monkey with a penchant for Lady Gaga’s style of fashion would have done a better job than he ever did. He didn’t even have the decency to deliver the dresses we already paid for in time. In fact he delivered the last of them 4 hrs before the wedding started. <insert angry sounds here>

I hope you rot in hell you fucking bastard. I really do.

(You see, it’s been nearly 7 months ago this happened and I’m *still* bitter about it. Aren’t you glad I didn’t write anything during that time?)

Moving on…the day came and went, and it was lovely…or so I was told. I don’t really remember much of it, considering I was the bride and all I wanted was to get it over with, get out of my dress and make-up and get back to bed. It was a morning wedding and I had only four hours of sleep (no thanks to the designer, I still hate you. Die in a fire.) before I had to wake up and get ready.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned on my wedding and probably impart on every would-be bride is this: (1) Research your designer, followed by: don’t shrug off RTW dresses. Sometimes they’re even better than the designer and don’t carry the same atrocious price tag (2) Don’t scrimp on your food. Scrimp everything else but the food. No one, and I mean no one will ever remember your make-up, your dress (unless you spam tag them in your wedding photos online and not shut up about it), the music. But the food? Oh yeah…people will remember THAT.

Think about it. If you had to remember the weddings you’ve been to, the food is what people will remember the most. As the bride, enjoy the food tasting before the wedding. By the time the wedding rolls around, even when things go perfectly well you’re either stressed or too excited to be able to taste anything.

It has been 7 months and counting after my wedding and I’m happy. Well *happier* than I was before of course. Some of my single friends are asking me if it feels different now that I’m married. I have no idea what to answer, I pretty much shrug and say that nothing really feels different except I don’t have to clean the cat’s litter box anymore.  🙂

Life’s good.

Of Friendships & Social Media

It was by chance that I found out through Facebook that one of my good friends from my previous work is pregnant. It was a pleasant if  a little bitter sweet news. It was a reminder that life was inexorably moving forward whether I liked it or not, and that no amount of pleading and denial was going to convince me that I’m still in my 20’s and knowing I still have “time” to do everything I wanted. I’m ridiculously happy for her and she in turn seems joyful of the news that she’s 14 weeks pregnant (how she could have missed that, I have no idea!)

And yet in the middle of it all, I feel a sense of detachment. Like I was hearing news about some old acquaintance I haven’t seen since we were high school.

This isn’t unusual, friendships..relationships fade with time and distance. But you’d think with the advent of social media it would be a whole lot easier to keep in touch. How strange that for me, that the opposite is usually true. In my experience, meeting new people through social media like Facebook isn’t bad, it allows you to connect with people some who are too far away. It’s just a matter of how deep that connection is.

It’s just that in the midst of status messages, random posts about funny cats, memes, and videos that suddenly relationships had become hollow. I see a news feed when I look at Facebook, there’s nothing personal about it, if anything it’s impersonal and that’s not what relationships should be!

I guess this is why I crave more personal interactions with friends and loved ones. Meeting them for coffee, lunch on weekends, like this habit my cousins from my mother’s side and I are recently doing. We set aside a day, once a month for dinner out of our busy schedule, ignoring the fact that even just for once a month we’d take the time to connect.

I’ve been able to rebuild bridges, and reconnected our lives, after nearly more than a decade of us not speaking to each other (long story that one).

None of us are heavy Facebook users, we don’t even have each other as ‘friends’. But that’s okay. We talk, take the time and it’s lovely. In fact, a great majority of the friends I take the effort to keep in touch, either don’t have Facebook or are Facebook “lite” users–you know, the ones who probably check their accounts once a day, or every month, or every six months to a year or never at all.

Before people get on my goat, I’d like to say that it’s not impossible to create meaningful connections online. One of my closest friends, I met her online through Second Life and we’ve been friends for more than six years. She lives in Hong Kong, and she would have made it as my Maid of Honor or at least one of my bridesmaids if I could only afford having her fly in.

And yet despite our closeness, I look so forward to finally meeting her when I visit Hong Kong for the honeymoon. Strangely enough it’s got me more excited than my actual wedding! There’s nothing quite like the excitement and the beauty when you finally get to see those special friends and see them face-to-face.

I’m not saying that we should abandon Facebook and all that, but I think it would be nice..that if you can dedicate hours that you spend online in these social networks, to try and take the time to step back, and actually spend time with the friends you can.

Running on Empty & Why Online Raging is a Waste of Time

I had an internet argument last night.

The details of my argument with the guy/girl can be summed up like this: girl commentator makes a statement that she supports gay marriage but believes they shouldn’t adopt children / raise children due to being..well gay.

"What I wanted to reply to that."

You’d think that hanging around the internet since the late 90’s would have given me the immunity to ignore such troll-ish comments. But there will always be something that will always get my goat one way or another and break my long standing silence of not engaging in useless word wars with someone who uses the internet’s Anonymity as an excuse to be a royal douche bag.

Whatever my argument was with this person, whether or not it was justifiable I go all Christian Bale psycho on them, the point is these kind of online arguments is an example of futility and utter time waste.

When this happened, it was around 5:00pm and was supposed to cook my medicated diet dinner, before hurrying off to Cyma and meet up with my fiance and the man who we wanted to ask to be our godfather (or ninong) for our wedding at 7:00pm. The argument was so engrossing that I have lost track of time as I typed and re-typed my arguments, that when Pointyman2000 called it was already 6:40pm, giving me around 20 minutes to do EVERYTHING (I even had to skip updating the blog!)

I think after nearly burning myself, tripping over to feed the cat and basically acting like a monkey trying to do twenty things at once while trying to scarf down my meal did I told myself, NEVER AGAIN will I ever engage in long debates with online douche bags. And if I must, a single post that says everything will suffice after which the post that has inspired me to make a stern comment would be forgotten and wiped from memory.

Seriously. Being angry by nature isn’t really good. And being angry at someone who is beyond my reach of harm, rehabilitation or even just talking about our differences face-to-face is stupid and useless.

At the end of the day, getting angry at some random stranger who you’ll never see ever again is a waste of energy.

Now moving on.

It’s the Fourth Day of the diet, and I feel like I’m nearly running on empty.

I woke up foggy brained and it takes longer than usual to get started. It’s kinda funny that when I started the diet I’ve suddenly been sleeping badly. Though thankfully I woke up much better now than I did in the past two days.

Doing chores is becoming a challenge, though compared to yesterday I’m doing better today. It was harder to write as well. Usually I’d tap out a blog on the early morning with coffee but I spent the better part of yesterday morning staring at my monitor like a zombie, as I wondered where all my ideas for writing went.

But thankfully, the fact that being alive and simply living each day gives me experiences and ideas to write about. I actually have a few more ideas actually but I’ll save them for another post.

My Reasons for Not Writing and Why I Should

I have been writing for a while. As a young girl, I remember having diaries..a lot of them. I wrote about everything I could think of, school work, the trying times of being that awkward kid surrounded by prettier more popular girls in school, how my parents did not understand what I was going through among other childish girly things. But my problem then that I always felt that I have to live an exciting life worth writing about.

I believed I had to go out there and live it up! Travel! Do something, take up a hobby! Go meet new people and date! Take on careers to change the world! But I figured if I did all that stuff, I don’t even know if I’d have enough time to write anything at all.

And even when I did want to write, like I did during the trying times of my mother’s cancer, I could never find myself doing it. I felt I could never find the words to describe what I went through, or perhaps that I was afraid to be misunderstood. My command on the written language isn’t great. I never saw myself as a writer of any sort. I dabbled. Just because I have a blog, a few fanfictions (which I never finished) doesn’t make me a writer, in the same way that I cook at home doesn’t make me a chef.

Initially I balked at the idea of going back to this blog. I was this close to deleting it and just maintaining my other hobby/work blog. But since the start of my diet, my fiance Pointyman2000 insisted that a blog might help keep me in track. And when I posted that ridiculously long post yesterday, I felt a strange burden lift off my shoulders and I felt happier than I did before I wrote it.

Maybe the fact that I was expressing myself again. That somehow writing has allowed me a way to channel some of my nervous energies, energies that during the most trying times in my life (my mother’s cancer, my own illness and my mother’s death) burned inward, coalescing into a ball of negativity that greatly impacted how I lived my life.

Okay, I’m stopping it right now. I’m beginning to sound little too emo on that last sentence.

Moving on…

Diet!

Yes, it’s my second day of the Cohen and I’m not sure how to feel yet except maybe I haven’t gone to the toilet and do the “passing of motion” (the term I picked up in my previous stay in Singapore for “to poop”). We were warned about this so I’ll be taking the precaution of drinking a glass of water mixed with a tablespoon of Psyllium Husk to help promote “movement.”

I tend to giggle madly every time I say that out loud to myself. “Movement.” Teehee!

I’m coping well enough so far. I don’t feel as hungry as I did yesterday. I made the mistake of starving myself some crispbreads/crackers. I thought I was allowed 2 servings per day, I was apparently allowed 5 servings, but I have to eat 2 at a time only. My bad. It would explain why I was so gassy and acidic yesterday.

Over all, my energy so far is good. Though I do feel I’m getting tired a little too quickly than I did before (again I was told to expect that for the first few weeks), but thankfully I’m still able to do my chores. I hope that means I’d still have enough energy to bathe my cat, Eclair.

Bathing cats…

Wish me luck. I’m about to suit up and prep the first aid kit.

Late Reaction

I suppose I should have posted this photos earlier but things got busy (or maybe ‘lazy’ would be the most apt term) after the holidays and I didn’t get the time to make the next post as I should have.

Anyway last January 3, 2010 was our family reunion. Now normally I’ve never been a big fan of family reunions. They were always so noisy, in an out of the way place, and surrounded by people I’m not all that close to (and sometimes get annoyed with).  This is especially true with my cousins. I blame this to location and age-gap. We live a little out of the ways with everyone else and being an only-child growing up I was used to being on my lonesome (I was also fairly uppity).

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