Storm signals up.

Stormy Tuesday is reflective of my state of mind today. Or one might be an effect of the other.

Was about to say that it's a case of chicken vs. egg, but who am i kidding to think that my mood could have an effect on the weather? The closest probability is that my perception of the severity of the weather has something to do with my mood. On an early Tuesday!

Friggin' umbrella broke on me today. I, myself, am so close to breaking too.

And the week has just started.

I could have been breezing the storm away because of several pseudo-achievements at work. Then again, pseudo-achievements have been slightly marred with the realization that i am still a few notches below completing everything in my plate this year - and it will be October in a few days. Barely a month to go before our next Board reporting.

On the other hand, maybe I should consider it a good sign that I have been this involved with work. A hundred-eighty degree turn from how I was last year. But hey, everything has been a hundred-eighty degrees different today compared to last year. I was fat and pregnant and did not care about anything else but my bulging tummy.

Now, I have my 9-month old Qube and loads of presentation materials to finish.

I soo envy those sleeping in today. Wet and stormy dreams to everyone.

Missing.

Thirteen hours away from home, and i am already missing my little imp.



I promised the husband* that i won’t be writing any blog entries tonight.

But what the heck, this is my first night free of motherly responsibilities and wife duties, so i will celebrate it by….

…staying in my hotel room writing about how  much I am already missing Qube I want to cry. Only that I’ve been told not to think of him a lot, else he won’t be able to sleep through the night. I hope he does.

I hope I’d be able to sleep too. I’ve already forgotten how it feels not to have Qube sleep beside me.

And for the husband*, I also will not pass the chance to tell the world about how, at 1:30 in the morning, you had me brought you to the ER because of pins and needles on you arm, heart burn, backache, nausea, headache, and what have yous – the night before my very first overnight trip away from home. Go figure.


Haaay, I miss you both.

Eighth Highlights.

Technically, it's still during the eighth month.

Went home last Friday with a not-so-good mood and a giant headache. I was greeted by a smiling Qube doing "The Close-Open".

Was i happy? I was ecstatic and the giant headache suddenly vanished!

Before the eighth month ends, let me count the ways that Qube made me smile on this particular month:  

1. Close - Open: When we had just about given up on him learning to do it.

Starting on his 3nd month, we had been trying to teach him this, but he always seemed oblivious to my and his dad's efforts.

But last Friday, when I arrived and Yaya asked him to show me – he closed his fist tightly, then opened it to show his palm, then he did it two more times. There was no mistaking it; he was really doing The Close – Open!

The catch? He refuses to do it more than twice a day. Or twice to the same person. Stubborn little imp. 

2. Dance, dance: Nobody taught him. Well, I am not sure if Yaya did, but since both I and his dad never learned how to dance properly, we simply did not include it in our agenda to teach Qube. Maybe his daily dose of Showtime is to blame.

We just noticed one night that each time the Dell Fabric Conditioner commercial comes up on TV, he would suddenly turn and stare intently at the TV. Then he would begin swaying his head and move his body in tune with the jingle. That is when we recognized that he was dancing. Several more of  “May one rinse na ang Dell, may one rince na ang Dell…” sang by yours truly, confirmed our theory that he was indeed dancing to the TV jingle.

Now, his repertoire includes: Gotta Feeling by the Black Eyed Peas, Pokerface by Lady Gaga, On the Floor by J. Lo, The Time (Dirty Bit) by Black Eyed Peas, The Sweet Escape by Gwen Stefani and Akon, and a selection of nursery rhymes and bedtime songs.

Oh, and yes, he dances when he likes his food.

3. Clap them softly, 1, 2, 3: The first few times he did it should not counted. Because they were so random and not connected with any particular emotion.

This time, he claps when he is happy, when he sees something on TV that delights him, when he sees Mama about to pick him up, when he is playing with Leopard (his Animaland stuffed bestfriend), when he is playing peek-a-boo with Papa, when he dances.

4. Alive, Awake, Alert, Enthusiastic: Whenever I arrive home from work, I always try to sneak to the bathroom, have a drink of water, change my clothes, before I show myself to Qube. Else, he would be jumping with outstretched arms and shouting “Mama”, and I would not be able to disengage myself from him until a few hours later.

And every day after work, at playtime, he’d start to babble animatedly, hold his breath, tense his body, and squeal. He always does this when he is excited or when he is very eager to talk. And always, I’d have to rub him on his back to make him relax and just try to talk slowly.

5. Crawling little pig everywhere: By now, I’m getting used to turning towards my back first before making any move, to be sure that I would not be stepping on a crawling Qube, because he now makes his presence known in every nook of our apartment.

At eight months, we could no longer just sit and watch TV peacefully. It would always be either me or Papa chasing Qube everywhere.

One of these days, I might just tie him on a leash. Promise.

6. Bedtime singing: I’ve already mentioned in another blog entry that whenever I sing him to sleep, he’s start to slap my face and take over my singing. He does it every night.

Last night, because I want to tease him and test his singing prowess, I started singing in a falsetto. And he did the same!

But because I do not want to make false claims when I boast this to friends, and especially when I write about it, I modified my singing to use my normal voice. And he hummed in his normal voice. Still, not contented because it might have been just a coincidence, I again sang in falsetto voice. And yes, my Qube also began humming in falsetto.

Well, picture me smiling smugly to the husband*. The baby took after me, afterall.

There are many more little things that Qube does to make us proud parents believe that he is the best eight-month old there is today. But of course, all proud parents think this too.

This ends our amazing – eight journey.

Welcome to nine months, Qube.

Thursday, I don't care about you...

And Friday,

I don't feel loved.

Put simply, this week is not my best week.

With a combination of female hormones, frenzy at the workplace, lack of sleep, and chaos at home, what should one expect?

Only new mothers would understand. I think.

To cap off this week, here are song fragments that have been playing on and off inside my head to describe how I feel, because I am in no mood to use my own words:

Unwell – Matchbox 20

“I'm feeling like I'm headed for a breakdown

I don't know why

I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell”

Stomach Flu, Hangover-like headache without the booze, bad dreams this week. Yes, I am unwell.

The Scientist  - Coldplay

“Nobody said it was easy

No one ever said it would be this hard

Oh let’s go back to the start.”

Well, the newness of everything is still overwhelming, even after nine months.

Better Days – Goo Goo Dolls

“And you ask me what I want this year

And I try to make this kind and clear

Just a chance that maybe we’ll find better days

‘cause I don’t need boxes wrapped in strings

And desire and love and empty things

Just a chance that maybe we’ll find better days.”

I could go on singing this song ‘til the end and all the lines are so apt!

Minamalas – Mojofly

I like it now more than ever – from start to finish, and especially this line:

“Minamalas, kase wala na akong mahanap na iba…”

Repeat ten times.

Imbecilesque – Rivermaya

“Good morning baby
Are you still mad at me?
I guess I couldn't blame you
I instigated this big mess
I acted imbecillesque
Yeah I know..”

Most times, it’s intentional. To make you feel as terrible as I do.

It’s hard to say I do, when I don’t - Fall Out Boy

“I speak fast and I'm not gonna repeat myself

So listen carefully to every word I say:

"I'm the only one who's gonna get away with making excuses today,

You're appealing to emotions that I simply do not have"

This should not have been included hadn’t somebody popped “The Question” early this morning. So, there.

Spend My Life – Eric Benet

“Can I just see you every morning when I open my eyes
Can I just feel your heart beating beside me every night
Can we just feel this way together till the end of all time
Can I just spend my life with you”

Of course. Despite all the talk, this is still my song.

 

Little James – Oasis

“thank you for your smile
you make it all worthwhile
to us”

Just this morning before leaving for work, I looked at my sleeping Qube and yes,  you make it all worthwhile, my little James Quasar Qyle.

Bukol Survival Tips

Qube got his first bump in the head last night while playing with Papa. With how both father and son reacted, i cannot be sure who between them was more hurt.

Qube hardly cries whenever he tumbles to the floor, hit whatever part of his body with his toys, with the door, chairs, or even when he accidentally head butts me. But last night, he was fighting the urge, but let out a sniffle anyway. And it took several more minutes before he recovered to his usual self.

His usual self can be described by flashing back to 30 minutes before his minor accident:

I was singing “Are you lonesome tonight?” - this is his bedtime song - while feeding and trying to put Qube to sleep, when he pulled himself away from me, stood up, and sort of took over my singing (yes, he does that! I’ll probably have to cam cord it as proof.), prompting his Papa and kuya Jigz (who is on school break and came here for a visit) to come inside the bedroom and witness his little show.

Realizing that he had more than his usual audience, the singing turned to dancing and tumbling around while being held and restrained by his dad.

Then it happened.

Maybe I should still be thankful that Papa’s teeth didn’t fall as a result. Though he swears that it is really painful, which I totally believe because Qube once hit me with his head and my upper lip ruptured.

For similar future events, which I am told is inevitable, here’s my to do list:  

·         Stay calm. And tell the dad not to panic (because he has the tendency to overreact). I can tell from very limited experience that Qube’s reactions (crying, shock, etc.) are especially influenced by the expression of everyone else around him (e.g., the flower on his hair, the Ildefonso incident). 

·         Kiss, kiss. Both the bukol on Qube’s head or any other part which might have been hurt. When I was a child, a kiss from my mom always takes away 80% of the pain. I intend to pass on the tradition to my own kids. 

·         Ice, ice, baby. This one is no myth. And I am copy/pasting my internet research as support: Applying an ice pack will decrease the eventual size of the bump. Apply the ice for 20 minutes and then take a 5-minute break, then 20 minutes again. Offer your child a treat to eat during the icing to console him. 

Although for Qube, I did not need to offer anything else. The feel of the cold on his skin was enough to amaze him and stop him from squirming free of my embrace.    

·         Check for cuts, blood. Though if there is any, it would be hardly negligible. I was told though that cuts on the face, scalp area bleed much more than other areas of the body.  If there is bleeding, apply pressure to the cut using a clean washcloth with ice. The wash cloth, well, washes away the blood while the ice prevents the blood vessels from swelling. Basta, do it daw.  

·         Calpol. Whenever Qube has his monthly vaccine, his pedia always asks us to give him Calpol or Tempra every 4 hours to relieve the pain. Internet research suggests that this works as well for cuts, bruises, bumps and similar minor injuries.

But since the “kiss to the injured part” worked already, I saw no need to administer Calpol, though I’ve made it a point to have one handy, for emergency use which I am glad never happens.  

·         Go out for a stroll. To help erase the memory, the dad strongly advises taking Qube out for a walk. (Just like how the husband* goes out for a walk and a yosi whenever he is finding it hard to put up with yours truly) 

True enough, after the walk and play outside, Qube was again jumping and kicking and screaming in delight, as if nothing happened just a few minutes earlier.

When I locked us inside the bedroom for another attempt to put him to sleep, Qube was humming with me to the tune of “Are you lonesome tonight?” while his mouth latched on my left breast to feed. And his left hand was alternating between pulling my other breast and slapping my chest in rhythm with our goodnight song.

TGIF and Friday thank yous.

Believe me, if most part of your nights are spent breast feeding an insatiable baby, and your work days monitoring the time for your next pump session and the number of ounces you express everyday, you'll be as obsessed as i am to discuss this topic.

Scenario 1:
I was telling the husband* (asterisk stands for "almost") yesterday that the child of my pumpmate at our company clinic yesterday is almost 2 years of age.

Husband* said: "So, you are seeing yourself 16 months from now".


The initial goal was two months (baby steps)... which then became six months and, before yesterday, was fixed at nine months.


Now the goal is not to live forever, but to pump forever?

Scenario 2:
Also yesterday, while snacking on Country Style's chocolate doughnuts, i casually mentioned to the husband* that i have not been taking Natalac for several months now.

Husband* said: "Wow. Means you're really becoming an expert at it. You are Supermom!"
Me: "No. I am Supercow!"

Now i know why i used to love this game:



But no, i am not complaining. If anything, i am very happy to have someone who totally supports me, who encourages and pushes me on when i am losing faith in my capacity to produce enough milk for Qube.

And of course, no small part is played by The Best Nanny in the World who, in her own way, continues to support my breast feeding profession:

• who has learned fast that Qube's main source of nourishment should be breast milk. And that he is to be fed infant formula only, and only, when there is no more frozen pumped milk;
• who, by now, knows that my temper shoots up whenever there is excess unconsumed breast milk in the sink;
• who, despite the lure of the easy mixture of water and powdered formula, coupled with a crying and impatient baby, chooses to patiently thaw chilled milk everyday;    
• who persistently packs an extra pumping bottle for me everyday, even when in the past two weeks, i was not able produce enough to fill those bottles. But maybe because of the pressure of seeing an extra empty bottle, i am now able to produce a few more ounces, to get rid of the empty-bottle malady.

 So, given this overwhelming support, i guess i am really off to Supermom-hood. I just hope my Medela can cope with the pressure.

Another one bites the dust.

Got finger bitten by a freakin' bee. At 5:40 am!  And Bee got murdered without remorse in an instant. That just about serves him right for trying to ruin a particularly good morning.

And particularly good morning continued despite:

1. Several oil burns from the bacon that i was preparing early this morning;
2. A text message telling me that 7:30 am meeting will be cancelled (well, i have to wake up early anyway);
3. Standing inside the office-bound bus (Ayala - Leveriza) up to Ayala Center;
4. Receiving a text message from my boss telling me that he is deciding to push through with our meeting at 7:45 am. My cellphone clock reads 7:38 am and the stop light turned as red as the sirens inside my head;
5. Running from Paseo de Roxas to my Tower One office and reaching the elevator at 7:44 am.

I was sighing heavily and waiting for the 30th elevator to go back down to the 25th (I had to go up first to get my laptop and my pen / notebook) at 7:48 am. Three minutes late, but what the heck.

Meeting is over. I know that my morning continues to be good because I am still in the mood to change into my three-inch heels. I hope i don't trip over anything today :)

Then i realized that my index finger still stings from the bite earlier.