Little Fashionista

Verity's sense of fashion became apparent before she even turned 2. Then she was already dictating what she wanted to wear. Going out became a constant battle as we argued about what she could and could not wear. Of course, she could wear whatever she liked but dear mommy here has internal rules about what clothes were appropriate for, say, going to the market or going to church.

Then again, it was cute to see what matches she came up with. I must say she is really creative and manages to pull stuff off.

One day, she decided to wear the skirt and complete the look with swimming cap and lego tunnel pieces as bangles.

She decided to put on this ensemble and voila! Rock Star look.

Again, her ensemble complete with Miss Lala glasses and bear necklace for a 80's disco look

She decided that Pooh's clothes look better on her as a vest

New ways to wear hairbands! As belts! There are two here: a lacy one and a bead one.

Nowadays, her tastes are more upmarket. She demands to wear dresses whenever she goes. Even to the wet market. And with her glittery nice shoes. Of course, I said no, wear shorts and slippers. Again another tussle. You just can't win.

She thinks pants are ugly and often asks us to make her pretty whenever we put on clothes for her.

Her high standards are not confined to herself. She also gives her assessment readily on others. "That auntie quite nice but a bit not nice." Why? "She doesn't have nail polish."

Ok, our little fashionista here is a perfectionist. Must complete the look.

Just yesterday, she found fault with her look. "I want to colour my hair."

Clement and I were shocked. What a thing to ask from a 3.5 year-old.

"Black is not nice." So what colour do you want? "I want to colour my hair pink. Maybe with a bit of yellow."

I am a little worried. For her age, she already places so much emphasis on appearance. Would she ask for plastic surgery when she grows up?

Short Getaway to Bangkok... Kids-Free!

Clem and I hardly have our couple trips since the kiddies came along. Just twice. Once to Bali when Cavan was 4 months old. Another time at LoveStory Retreat at Austin Hill when Cavan was 2.5 years old, when I was preg with Verity at 7 months.

During CNY, Jeslin broached the subject about going on a kids-free trip. It sounded very appealing to me. I was very tired since I started work after 2 months of maternity leave. My life revolved around the baby and breastfeeding. Felt i needed a break. But I also had logistics concerns.

I was still breastfeeding Vesper. Ok, I'm a breastmilk Nazi. I don't want to put Vesper on formula. Moreover, she was used to sleeping with us. At night, when she was hungry, I just put her to nurse directly. When I'm not around, how is she going to sleep? How to drink? My poor baby!

Nancy was my other concern. How could I abandon her with 3 kids and go gallivanting?

The kids were my final and most important concern. We had never left them behind. Wanna go on a holiday? All go. Never mind the logistics and expenses.

But the trip was really appealing. We decided to go on Fri - Sun. Not too bad. At least if the kids were tired, there was no school. Logistically not too straining on Nancy too.

Before we started booking, i had to make logistics and childcare arrangements. Called my mother-in-law. Asked if she could stay over and sleep with Vesper. Oh, very easy. When Vesper cries in the night, either she needs to drink milk or change nappy.

We didn't mention there were nights she was inconsolable for no particular reasons and cried for hours. Oops.

My mother in law agreed readily. Bravo! Brave soul!

Once this most important arrangement was confirmed, next my father. As we would leave early in the morning at 5+ am, someone needed to help bring the kids to their schoolbus.

No problem, my father said. I'll come over at 6+.

Hurray for supportive parents!

I quickly informed Jeslin and we booked the air tickets and hotel less than 48 hours after our spontaneous discussion. And off we went in a span of 2 weeks.

We parked our car at Billy and Jes', as their place was near the airport, and shared a cab. Off we went!

Hotel
Stayed at SilQ boutique hotel. Nice modern place within walking distance to the MRT. Room felt empty without the kids climbing about.

Massages
For a short 3 day trip, we went for 3 massages. The 1st night, Clem and I went for Thai massage at 11pm. The masseur really worked hard and my bones were cracking. 2nd day, B&J settled for foot massage. Clem and I didn;t like foot massage so we settled for neck, shoulder back. That night, we went for oil massage.

Think I prefer oil (Balinese- style) massage to Thai. More soothing.

Even amidst the shopping, we also stopped by for a short massage. Shiok!

Shopping
I must say the trip was too short! Only managed to go to Siam Centre, Siam Square and Platinum! Didn't shop up a storm.

Also managed to do something I didn't have time for in Singapore - haircut! Cheap and good!

Milk
That's right. I didn't forget my mothering duties even while on a holiday. I pumped when i woke up, pumped after breakfast, after lunch, during mid afternoon, after dinner, before bed. I pumped in toilets for the wheel-chaired. Sorry I know I'm being inconsiderate, but that toilet had baby changing station. So pretend I had a baby with me ok?

Siam Centre had the cleanest toilet. The wheel-chair cubicle in the Ladies had baby changing station so I was able to put my stuff there.

At Platinum, Clem would follow me to the separate toilet. When we emerge, people (esp cleaners in charge of the toilet) would stare at us as if we did something in the toilet. Afterall, we spent almost 30 min there.

I washed my stuff using bottled water. And put the milk in the hotel room's mini fridge. Since it was a short trip, I didn't need to freeze the milk. It was unbelievable I went to this extent.

It was a short trip, an enjoyable one, nonetheless. We said we would not think of the kids too much and not shop for kids stuff. But how to resist?

Maternity Clothes (Part 2)

In my previous pregnancy, people asked me where I got my clothes. So i posted a blog sharing where most my clothes were from, for I am not one who buys maternity stuff.

When expecting Vesper, I didn't grow very much in size, although I was heavier than when expecting Verity (mystery of mystery). I could still wear normal working skirts (Mango size S somemore!) For the 3rd pregnancy, i was into Korean frilly styles and dresses. Best of all, they were non-maternity so post-delivery, just wear them with belts cinched at the waist.

Now, ahem, fashion show time - again!

4 wks preg. Uniqlo spaghetti top and tights

14 wks preg. Mphosis shorts suit

 

19 wks. Pull and Bear T-shirt, Fox skirt



17 wks. Mango top, Joop skirt



22 wks. Joop dress

24 wks. Top shop top, floral skirt from Japan

25 wks. Dress from shop in Toa Payoh

27 wks. T-shirt from Forever 21, skirt from Cotton On

28 wks. T-shirt from People's Park, lacy black skirt from Japan, tights from Uniqlo

31 wks. Top from United Square, skorts from Japan

33 wks. Sequinned dress from Arthur Yen

33 wks. Dress from Bali

36 wks. shorts suit from Bali

 

firstborn

I always wonder if firstborns ever face any pressure. Pressure of living up to their parents' expectations. Pressure of being a role model to their younger siblings.

As the first child, firstborns are given undivided attention. Daddy and mummy are there to guide their every step, coach them to perfect their speech and repeat melodies to catch that perfect pitch.

When Verity came along, we would ask him to give in to her, to be a good example as she would follow his ways

I wonder if Cavan feels any pressure.

Clem says I'm stricter with Cavan. Though I beg to differ. I thought I scolded Verity more. I smack her more. Because Verity is more rebellious and stubborn.

Maybe Clem is right. Verity can get away with most wrongdoing. Because she is as stubborn as a mule. Doesn't help that she has such a cute and innocent face. And i get tired of fighting with her. (Such irony. Since when I get tired of fighting. Must be age.)

For Cavan, when he doesn't obey the first time, I get mad. Because he's so obedient and willing to please. I guess I can't accept it when he doesn't listen the first time.

One night before bedtime,

Me: Children, go and brush your teeth.
(no response)
Me: (raising my voice) Children, go and brush your teeth!
Verity: I don't want!
Me: Cavan, go and brush your teeth.
Cavan: Verity doesn't want to brush her teeth, I also...

Suddenly, he stopped and caught himself. Then he continued.

Cavan:... I will still go and brush my teeth. I will be a good example.


I was surprised by the response. I totally didn't expect it from a five-year-old child.

Of course, I praised him to no end. I'm so proud of him for doing the right thing. I don't know this is because he is aware of his "responsibilities" as the oldest child. Or simply because he's such a pleaser.

One thing I know is, Cavan is a such a perfect son. The kind of son I've always wanted.

I'm so honoured to be chosen to be his mother. It's my blessing he is chosen to be my firstborn.

Lefty

Not sure if it's official, but Verity is a lefty.

We only noticed it when she went to Nursery One last year. Before that, we didn't pay much attention to which hand she used in her daily life like feeding, colouring or throwing.

Only when she went to school and did more writing and colouring that we realised she tended to use her left hand.

Thinking that there is a "right" way, I switched her to using her right hand. Afterall, kids at this age are malleable. Can train and change easily.

So I thought.

But it didn't seem "right". She applied weak strokes. I thought it was her terrible twos acting out. I became stricter and demanded her to be serious in her work. It didn't occur to me that was her weak hand.

During the parent-teacher meeting, I raised this concern to her teacher. Ms Grace was aware of Verity's preference. In class, she did not dictate which hand the child would use as at this stage the child would begin to seek out their stronger hand and preference. She told us that Verity wrote and coloured more steadily using her left hand. In any case, she asked us to decide whether we wanted Verity to switch to right hand so the teachers could also be consistent in guiding her at school.

We stopped dictating which hand Verity should use and observed her preference. She was at this awkward stage where she was caught between her natural dexterity and "social norm". So it might have somewhat become a hurdle to her as she wasn't sure which hand she should use.

As a result, she would sometimes claim that she didn't know how to scoop soup or rice. Again, it only occurred to me recently that she was fearing spillage as I was strict about mess. Nancy would encourage her to use her "strong" hand. I took the cue from Nancy. I no longer refer to "right" or "left" hand but "strong" hand.

Not using her right hand doesn't make it wrong.

I had to remind myself to be more aware of her situation and development needs and focus less on performance. I should help build up her confidence in performing tasks using her strong hand.

It was a little awkward for me as she would ask me to hold her hand to write. So I wrote in my best possible strokes using my left hand.

I have to remember to be patient if her movement using the computer mouse was not smooth and when she kept clicking on the right button instead of the left. (The mouse is designed for right handers!)

I have to remember to be patient when she cuts using scissors and her paper always ends up between the blades uncut. (Scissors are designed for right handers too!)

I have to understand that when she writes, the ink will smudge as her left hand would move from left to right. It's nothing to do with her untidiness.

My focus and perspective have changed. I have learnt to be more supportive as life skills may not come as easily for Verity, given that most equipments and instruments are designed for right handers.

Patience is a virtue I most lacked and through my daughter, I will learn to develop.

Ah, lessons God gives us through children.

Appetites

Inconsistency at the dining table. I had to ask one to eat slowly and the other to eat quickly.

Cavan has no problems. He gobbles up food quickly. And eats adult portion. Maybe more than adult portion. You ask him what's his favourite food and he ends up naming every edible thing.

He's always hungry. After his meal, he awaits his sister's leftovers. When Clem and I have our dinner, he requests for a bite here and there.

I told Cavan that he eats too fast, so the brain hasn't registered that he's eaten so he doesn't feel full yet. But he does say he is hungry and asks to eat something 30 - 40 min later.

Clem and I always think we got bang for our buck whenever we bring him for buffets. Especially when kids eat for free. We always snigger to ourselves that Cavan eats more than some adults and he doesn't have to pay. Cheapskate parents.

Then Verity. When she was younger, she was experimental with food. But her interest waned as she grows. She loves veg and fruits, and hates meat. (Now where did all that chubby cheeks come from?) It has become an ordeal making her eat her meals.

She plays around her bowl. Picks a grain or two. Nibble. Picks some veg. Nibble. I have to ask her to perform every step: Pick up spoon. Scoop. Feed. Chew. Swallow. 2- 3 rounds till I get really fed up and start yelling at her, threaten her or sometimes using reward to motivate. Carrot and stick, I've tried them all. But we just can't spend our time cajoling or coercing her right? Sometimes, Cavan tries to help his little sister by feeding and coaxing her. Other times, he simply hands me the ruler.

Inconsistency. I attempt to reward Verity with a cookie or chocolate if she eats fast. Then Cavan asks, how about me. I eat fast.

I told him: for you, you have to eat slower. And less.

The last thing I want is to give him more food. But how can one ever say no to a kid who wants more food?



Empty Nest Syndrome

My kids haven't even left home and I'm already feeling this. They left my room.

Actually, Clem and I had been trying for years to drive them out of our room. Blame it on me. I wanted the kids to co-sleep with us, as I wanted to spend every waking and sleeping moment with them since Clem and I work.

When I was expecting Verity in my last trimester, I drove Cavan out of our bed. Even when he slept on the floor, I already missed him.

Eventually he was supposed to sleep in his own bed in the other room when we brought baby Verity home. He did for 2-3 nights and came back to our room. Clem lamented but I was secretly pleased. The whole family was in one room again!

When I was expecting Vesper, I was serious about the kids moving out. Starting with Cavan.

We told him he has to sleep in his own room when he turns five. He didn't.

We told him he has to do it when Verity turns 3. Again he didn't.

He bargained with us and asked why not do it when he turns 10? I mentioned some of his friends and told him none of them sleep in the parents' room.

For Verity, once Cavan vacates from our room, she will take over his place. But Cavan didn't budge so she remained. We set up the baby playpen for her to sleep. It lasted for weeks then revert to original arrangement.

Cavan drew this in his school journal. Now the teachers know how we sleep

So what was the crux that made them eventually change their mind?

I had to deliver Vesper and Clem would be staying with me in the hospital.

I already prepared Cavan mentally a few days before I actually popped that he and Verity had to sleep in their room when daddy and I go to the hospital to bring Vesper.

So the night of Vesper's birth was the night they shifted. For good.

I was surprised they didn't kick a fuss but obediently carried their sleep stuff, made the beds ans settled down pretty quickly. The next day, Cavan told me that his bed was very comfortable!

Verity's transition was greater. We night toilet-trained her at the same time. A couple of days after they shifted, Clem decided to remove her night diapers and reminded her to wake up to go to the toilet if she needed to.

The 1st 2 weeks she woke Clem up to bring her to the toilet. After that she trotted to the toilet herself, switched on the button light. did her business, and trotted back sleepily.

And all this while she did not wet her bed even once. We praised her for her achievement. She was so proud the 1st thing she told her teacher upon returning to school was not about the new baby but that she didn't need to wear diapers anymore.

I would surely miss the bedtime activities at our bed, reading books, telling one another about our day, taking turns to pray and other blabber.

But it's time to grow up. For me.

School A Year Ago

Just a year ago, I wondered how Verity would take to school. While Cavan was adaptable, made friends easily and independent, Verity was more xiao jie and had people to fuss over her. I was also worried about her taking the school bus. She was barely 2.5 years old. Would she sit still on the bus? Would it be safe? Actually, I didn’t have to worry about her. I was sure Cavan would take care of her.


On their first day of school, I went to work for I would definitely be anxious. Dun think my emotions could handle it if Verity started crying. So I left it to Clem to follow them (secretly). He wanted to send the kids to school. I said no. Let Verity go through the day as-is, otherwise she would have the same expectation every day making it hard to transit.

So Clem darted in every corner so Verity would not see him.

Verity went up the school with Cavan without a fuss. We established a good-bye ritual that continued till today – hug, kiss, hi-5.

In school, Cavan held her hand and brought her to her class. Clem peeped from outside.

There were parents with their children. The children had to wash their hands before breakfast. Parents were helping their children wash and dry their hands. Verity observed and followed suit, without assistance.
During breakfast, while other children were distracted and had their parents to supervise, Verity was still eating her breakfast like a little lady, unfazzled by the surrounding chaos (and Clem still hiding well). Her steadiness persisted for weeks.
I was very proud of her. And proud of Cavan as a little guardian. Sometimes Verity cried in class and Cavan would go to her class to comfort. Teachers told us that Cavan was a good brother. He knew how to coax her and settle her.

Verity settled down in school like a big girl. Her teacher, Ms Grace, frequently gave feedback on how Verity was doing and I thanked God for nurturing teachers like her in school. Here were some things:

• Extended love and care for her friend. Verity would pat her friend’s chest when her friend was coughing

• Asked teachers and friends to pray for me and baby

• The Chinese teacher commented that Verity learnt very fast and had a very good memory. Though Verity started out with zero Chinese, she could understand and converse in Mandarin very quickly. The teachers were impressed that she remembered all the songs and dance steps, and often volunteer to sing and dance in front of the class.

• Being chatty, she would have lots to share and tell her teachers whenever she returned after the weekend.

I certainly didn’t expect it when Verity got an award. For Cavan, he received an award every year since Play Group.

When school hols started, Verity kept asking why there was no school. Tomorrow, school will start and she (and Cavan) had been looking forward to it.

So do I.

The Story of Vesper's Birth

29 November 2010.


I still wonder how Dr could “imagine” that Vesper will pop out this day and she really did. Anyway, I went to work as usual while Clem took leave. I asked him, why are you taking leave? Are you giving birth? Anyway he brought the kids for a swim in the morning and ran errands in the afternoon.

5.45pm
He fetched me from office for our appointment at Sun Plaza. Dr has specially instructed me to see him there at 6pm. I was late. I had a missed call from Dr! I quickly retrieved the voice message, only to hear him talking to another patient in the background. Aiyo, this Dr so kancheong, consulting a patient still want to call me. Afraid that I don’t show up is it?

6.30pm
When I arrived at the crowded clinic, he called me again and asked where I was. Dr, I’m just outside! Ok, he replied satisfactorily, I thought you’re not coming.

When I got into Dr’s room, he asked, “Do you know why I called you? I called to check whether you are in pain. If yes, I will ask all the patients outside to go home.”

Whoa, suddenly I felt very important. At the same time, I thought he was a little mad. Why would he be so sure i will deliver today?

“Dr, I feel perfectly fine!”

The ultrasound showed that baby’s head was down. Very good, Dr commented, but the weight is around 2.2 kg. Quite low.

Of course low lah, I thought. Now only 37 weeks what. If carry to 40 weeks, sure normal weight.

Suddenly he turned to and said in a serious tone, “Do you know you are having contractions now?”

Knitting my brows, I tried to feel whether I was. He pointed at my belly and exclaimed, “There, there! You see, you’re having contractions! Joker lah, you.”

I retorted that tightening was very common. Clem told Dr that I’ve been having them for almost 2-3 weeks already.

He proceeded to do an internal check. I was 2-3cm dilated. I was to be put on CTG to track the contractions. So I went to the next room with clem, and the nurse strapped me up. We were cracked up how Dr called me a joker and were joking and taking pics to pass time.

7.20 pm

Then suddenly, I told clem “um, I think the contractions seem to get stronger.” He looked at the chart and reported that out of 200, my scale was 155.

Wondering why that happened, I asked whether clem saw Dr put anything when he did the check. No leh, nothing.

When I went back to Dr’s room later, he wanted to check me. Again? Anyway, still same.

“I think you won’t deliver tonight. Maybe 2-3 days’ time.” He went on to answer my query about what will happen if I pop when he’s not around.

When Clem told him that my contractions seemed stronger, Dr smiled and said it was normal and would usually happen after a check. He had to rush off for a delivery. “The baby is crowning already but never mind, she’s on epidural so can wait. Thought I’d better check you first.”

Before he left, he gave me all the instructions – go straight to hospital if I had the signs. Mine was an express case so better don’t wait till the last minute unless I wanted my hubby and son to deliver for me at home. As he was rushing, he turned around and reminded me, “And please answer your phone. I will call.” And he continued nagging at me even as he sped off.

It was the first time I hear a doctor asking the patient to pick up her phone.

8 pm

I was feeling quite uncomfortable as the contractions really were stronger. Clem was hungry so we went to the foodcourt to eat. I told him to hurry as I had a feeling that this could be IT. Just like when I was having the other two, I totally had no appetite. Clem bought me ginseng chicken soup.

After he was done, he seemed dissatisfied and asked if I wanted to eat anything else. I was mildly irritated as I felt I had to rush for time. I certainly did not want to deliver anywhere other than the hospital! Can you hurry up!

We rushed home so I could wash up, prepare and pack the bags . Called the children to prepare them that we were going to the hospital. Suddenly, Clem asked he could swing by the petrol station to pump petrol.

WHAT!!?? I’m going to pop soon and now you tell me you’re running low on petrol!!?? Why can’t you do it earlier since you were on leave?

He said never mind then.

What never mind? What if we were rushing to hospital halfway and the car couldn’t move? That’s worse! I’m not going to give birth on the road!

Our plan then was for Clem to bring the kids out to pump petrol so they won’t hover around me. Don’t think I can respond to them when the contractions kick in. I could also wash up and pack in peace.


8.45 pm

Reached home. Timed the contractions while I was doing the necessary. They were between 40 – 60 seconds with 1 min plus intervals. When clem came back with the kids, he told them that we were to going to the hospital and won’t be coming home that night. So they had to sleep in their room with Nancy. The kids were incredibly understanding and didn’t fuss. Cavan asked whether he would get to see me. Yes, tomorrow morning daddy will come and bring you to the hospital to see mummy and baby. I was so confident that baby would be out by then.

We were in such a hurry that I didn’t take my customary bikini shot, as I had with Cavan and Verity. But Verity wanted to take a pic with me.

 
Clem put the kids to bed. We said good bye and zoomed off at 9.30pm


10pm

Reached TMC. I had to stay at the admission counter to sign some documents. Later one of the recep asked, “You’re Mdm Chng?” I nodded. “Oh, Dr Ang told us to expect you.” Later she commented that I didn’t look like I was having contractions. I told her I had 3 in the past 5-8 min. I had to tahan, can’t be yelling and screaming in public, right?

Finally, I was released from withholding my pain and agony and was brought to the delivery ward. As I reached the nurses there chimed, “We have been waiting for you! Dr said you are very fast, express lane!”

I changed into my gown, the nurses did the necessary. I asked for gas and the nurse checked me. “5-6 cm. Not so soon, not so soon darling.”

I was very demoralized to hear that. After Verity broke my record having arrived 1 hr 45 min after I was in the hospital, I expected a shorter labour this time. “Gosh, is it going take me another 4-5 hours?” I thought.

I was in such a pain and I heard the nurses talking something in distress. Removing my gas mask, I asked feebly, who is in distress, what’s distress? I was fearing any complications. “Oh no, you don’t have to worry, it’s a medical term.” If it concerned me or my baby, of course I wanted to know. But another contraction came, I had to use gas so I didn’t ask further.

Shortly after, the nurse said she wanted to wheel me to the delivery room. No no, I want to walk there. I feel better walking. I had to hurry the nurse for I didn't want to be caught having a contraction while walking. Thankfully, the delivery room was very near.
By this time, I didn’t check the time, as with my other births as I didn’t want to be demotivated by how slow time is crawling.

It seemed the contractions this time were stronger. Or the gas wasn’t working. I asked the nurse, is the gas working? Why am I feeling so much pain?

Later, I heard the nurse told Clement that I was in distress, whether I was in distress previously.

By then, I was experiencing such violent contractions that I bent to the side. “Don’t twist your body, if not the baby can’t come out.” I listened to the nurse’s advice and lay on my back and to labour in that position was terrible. At one point I was thinking, “Why am I going through this AGAIN??”

I felt pressure below and was trying to push. The contractions made me raised my upper body instinctively.  Then I felt the nurse holding her hand below. I didn.t know what she was doing and somehow I felt less pressure. Clem later told me that she was trying to adjust baby’s head inside. I didn’t know what that meant.

There was busy-ness in the room. It didn't occur to me that the end is nearing as the nurse earlier told me not so soon. Even when they propped my legs up, it didn't register to me that I could pop soon.

Suddenly Dr burst into the room and exclaimed, “Whoa, I made it in time. Soann, how many pushes you want? One or two?”

He then showed Clem where he was going to cut. Clem told him that I didn’t want to cut for I heal faster without episiotomy. Dr thought for a quick second and went along with my decision.

Clem told me that baby’s head was crowning. I quickly asked him to grab the camera.

I was pushing hard and I felt I was tearing below, and a bolt of fire that shot through my right leg to my sole. It was totally unbearable and I didn’t think I could continue. But, for the split second, I thought, just get over and done with!

The next thing I knew, the baby was placed on my tummy. It was so fast, clem didn’t witness the birth. He turned to take the camera. When he turned back, the baby was already on me.

Later, when we were waiting to go to my ward, I asked clem whether my water bag burst as I didn’t recall it bursting. He said no.

Was the baby wet when she came out? No.

Was the mat wet? No.

Then what happened to my water bag?

Maybe you don’t have a water bag, said Clem.

Don’t be ridiculous, how can anyone not have a waterbag?

Later I asked Dr. He wasn’t sure either.

Till today, it remained a mystery.

Anyway, was really glad I broke my record – 1 hr 13 min upon reaching. Good job, Vesper!

Reasons for Having Three

(From 2010...)

When you are pregnant, you can expect these 3 common questions from people, even strangers:

1. How many months?
2. Is it a boy or girl?
3. It's your number...

The interesting part comes after this. People will start speculating the gender of the kid(s) you already have. The conversation continues from question 2...

Me: It's a girl.
A: It's your number...
Me: 3.
A: So you have 2 boys?

There's where assumption kicks in.

People readily assume that you're trying for a gender you don't already have, that's why you have 3 kids. So is there really a reason for having 3? Let's analyse the reasons for having 1 and 2 first.

Baby #1 happens for various reasons: Parents are ready, parents are not ready (so-called accidents), erm I can't think of anymore. Make that 2 reasons then.

Baby #2 happens for more reasons: Because the 1st one is a boy/ girl, and parents are (secretly) hoping for a different gender (Don't believe them if they say it doesn't matter); Because the 1st is lonely and needs a playmate; Because parents believe in one-to-one replacement rate (ok, I'm kidding for this one. Who seriously thinks for the nation when it comes to procreation?)

Now, Baby #3. There are parents who are really trying for a different gender if the 1st 2 are repeats. Or parents grow up in a big family and would like the same bustle around at home. Or parents simply like kids and don't mind having more.

What about OUR reason? Before it happened, I don't have a reason for having #3. One boy, one girl is already perfect. Foodcourt seats are designed for a family of 4. NDP tickets are restricted to 4. Coin-operated kiddy rides are designed for at most 2 riders. When you go on amusement rides, you go in pairs. If you live in a four-room flat, each of the kids get his/ her own room. Each of the parent holds one child, just nice.

People asked whether it was planned or accident. I said for Clem it was planned. For me, it was an accident. My gynae called it accidently planned. Whatever it was, it happened.

Now that it happened, I began to see the up-side.

Having come from a family of 2 kids, the benefit of having more siblings only occurred to me after I got married.

I realised how quiet and empty my house became after I married. That's why I tried to go back as much as I could. It got worse after mom passed away, leaving pa and bro. It's just my bro and I trying to handle family affairs together, taking care of parents' needs, and sometimes I wish there was another sibling to share, to discuss.

#3 is really God-given and a blessing. I guess there are adjustments to be made, and more expenses. And I always tell Clement that he is such a good dad that he deserved to have more children (sorry, but after this, STOP!).

I'm proud to say I'm a mom of 3. I think it's so cool. Cavan was delighted to have another sibling. As for Verity, I feel sorry for her. I really wanted her to be the baby of the family, the princess of the family. For Verity's sake, I would have felt better if #3 were a boy. But then, it's God-given and I would not have it another way.

I'm looking forward to a noisy family setting. Already, we can hardly hear ourselves talk with the 2 loudly demanding 100% of our attention. How, with one more, I always asked Clem playfully. When I see Clem fooling around with the 2 at home, I would imagine another young one toddling along and it brought so much warmth to my heart.

I'm looking forward to you joining our family, Vesper.

Akan Datang

The visit to the gynae today really made me all anxious.

I've been taking it easy with the preparation, knowing that my EDD was 21 Dec 2010. I still have a month to go. There's time! So I planned my work right down to my last working day - 20 Dec. Or so I wish.

For the visit today, I knew that Dr was going to perform an internal check. Plus I had several questions to ask him, so we didn't bring the kids along.

He confirmed that he might not be around for my delivery as he is on leave from 3 - 15 Dec. I asked him for his stand-in doctors and he provided me three names, out of which two were his good friends.

When we did a scan, he exclaimed oh good, the baby's head is down already. And after performing an internal check, he said rather matter-of-factly, "You're very open. Maybe I can get to deliver you," as he pulled out his gloves and walked back to his table.

I was stunned. "Huh, do you mean before 3 Dec or after 15 Dec?"

"Maybe before 3 Dec. Might even be this week."

Whhhhat??!!

"When you said 'very open', how many cm?" I persisted.

"You're already 2cm dilated."

So he had me scheduled to see the following Monday (29 Nov), muttering that would be the last Monday he's around. My mind was full of suspicion. I certainly hope he won't trigger labour by a vigorous internal check, like what he did for Cavan and Verity. At the same time, I was hoping he would deliver me. After all, I paid to see him, not his stand-in doctors!

Clem chuckled, "You'd better tell your colleagues on 29 Nov to be prepared not to see you in the office the next day."

I glared at him and pouted.

Well, I just hope I get to celebrate our anniversary, my birthday and watch Pinocchio the Musical with the kids before baby comes.

And try to settle my work matters by this week. And quickly start buying and washing the baby stuff, re-organise the house and wardrobe. And train the kids to sleep on their own beds, not on my bed!

So many things to think about. No wonder I can't sleep now.

A Name for #3

For the 1st time, we already had a name for our baby even before she was born.

For Cavan, we didn't check the gender so we prepared a list of boy and gal names. Cavan was shortlisted and he had the Cavan look, so it was perfect.

The name Verity was not in the list of names when we had Cavan. I was inspired cos I knew someone named Verity and she was a sweet person. And the name was so sweet, and not a hybrid. And you can find it in a dictionary.

This time round, we decided to start early a few months ago. I polled the stakeholders and asked what name is nice for our baby. The following names came up:

Hannah - suggestor: Cavan. Not a bad name. Biblical too. Why did you choose this name, I asked. Bcos I like Hannah Montana, he said. Strike off.

Sarah - suggestor: Verity. No particular reason. But too common, I said. So, strike off.

After this came many suggestions. Eventually, Cavan the ingenious one exclaimed with a sparkle in his eyes.

"I know, I know! We combine my name and Verity's name. We call our baby Cavity!"

We laughed and ruffled his hair. He was so innocently pleased with his contribution until we told him what that meant.

We were still in search of a name, preferably starting with "V". I jokingly told Clem that since I can't have my dream scooter, Vespa, I might as well name our baby Vespa.

This name got stuck. And I was getting serious. And Clem thinks I'm being ridiculous.

Later, I remembered that there was an English word "Vesper". I checked and got the following:

1. Vesper Martini is a cocktail that was originally made of gin, vodka, and Kina Lillet.

Oops, ok, I like Martini but I don't think this is a selling point if I need to convince Clem.

2. the evening star, esp. Venus; Hesper.

3. Also called vesper bell . a bell rung at evening.

4. a) a religious service in the late afternoon or the evening.

b) the sixth of the seven canonical hours, or the service for it, occurring in the late afternoon or the evening.

c) Roman Catholic Church . a part of the office to be said in the evening by those in major orders, frequently made a public ceremony in the afternoons or evenings of Sundays and holy days.

d) evensong

5. evening

It didn't sound so bad after all. I smsed Clem that I've decided to name baby Vesper.

He: What? I'm not going to name my baby after a scooter.

I: It's not Vespa, it's Vesper

He: What does it mean?

I: It means evening

He: First, it sounds like a scooter. Now, in the dark some more. Cannot cannot, sounds like a rebel.

Grrrr... so dense!

Then one night, something happened that I was convinced it was a sign.

I was sleeping when suddenly I awoke in the middle of the night, humming a familiar tune I used to sing during my Girl Guide days. Remembering some of the words, I did a quick google and got the following result:

Scout Vespers

I should feel spooked at this time. Instead, I was elated!

I shared with Clem excitedly the morning he awoke. He was skeptical. Then I recited the lyrics to him. Meaningful right? Meaningful right? It's so reflective.

Ya ya ya, was his way of entertaining my ridiculous outburst.

Anyway, I was a good persuader and salesman so eventually he got used to the idea. I kept calling our baby Vesper, to get him into it. Clem said now the name has a nice ring to it.

I shared the name with our kids. Cavan wrinkled his nose and asked "What, it sounds like a TV show!"

Curious, I asked which show had Vesper?

"Vesper Housewives, your favourite show!"

This boy is really funny. Desperate Housewives lah, I corrected him.

Anyway, here are the lyrics to Scout Vespers.

Scout Vespers

Softly falls the light of day,
While our campfire fades away.
Silently each scout should ask:
"Have I done my daily task?
Have I kept my honor bright?
Can I guiltless sleep tonight?
Have I done and have I dared
Everything to be prepared.?"

Listen Lord, oh listen Lord,
As I whisper soft and low,
Bless my Mom and bless my Dad,
There is something they should know.
I have kept my honor bright.
The Oath and Law has been my guide.
Mom and Dad, this you should know,
Deep in my heart I love you so.

Pierced

Verity has been bugging us for earrings since she was less than 2 years old. I was hesitant as she has itchy fingers and I was afraid that she would meddle with her ear studs and hurt her earholes.

Moreover, she was always climbing about and jumping around, so the chances of hurting herself were higher.

She had to make do with toy clip-on earrings. And we would end up losing one of the pair.

In May this year, we passed by B'dazzled. Her daddy, struck by spontaneity, asked whether she wanted to pierce her ears. I was irritated and glared at him. Didn't we agree we'll do when she turns three, I muttered to him. Never mind lah, came his reply.

For Verity, once you asked, there was no turning back. She said yes! happily. I had to set her expectations. No crying, no meddling with earrings, be careful when combing hair and playing. She said yes yes yes to my naggings.

The decision was made under 3 min.

We went in and informed the lady that Verity was not yet three. The lady replied cheerfully, no problem. Her cheerfulness and mannerisms gave me the confidence that she could handle a young child.

She talked to Verity excitedly and asked her pick out her fav ear stud. Verity chose what she called "pink baby diamonds". And we were all set.

Suddenly, I had cold feet. What if they pierced one side and she started bawling and refused to do the other side? I stood outside the counter to stop myself from interfering. I was NERVOUS.

The lady was very professional. SHe asked another attendant to assist her. While speaking to Verity very kindly, she informed Verity that she was going to put "ice cream water" to her ears.

After that, she counted to three and both she and the attendant pireced Verity's ears together.

So clever, I thought.

She explained that for kids, they usually pierced two together.

All this while, Verity sat straight as a lady, without a flinch, without a cry. So cool, my baby.

Even weeks after, when there was blood on her ears, she didn't complain and didn't say a word. Not even when there was a sting or pain when we cleaned her open wound.

She took it all in a stride. Because it was a decision she made.

Letters

Since last year, Cavan was into writing letters. For Clem and me, for his friends. It's wonderful to receive letters from him as he will tell us how much he loves us.

Well, the letters to us aren't exactly letters, if you compare what he writes to his friends. For ours, he uses post-its, so I guess those are more like love notes.

For his friends, he fills up an A4-sized paper and it goes into an envelope.

Sometimes he shows us what he wrote. Sometimes he just passes to his friends directly. So we don't really know what else he conveys to his friends.

Here are a few samples I managed to snap photos of. I think they are really cute.

He wrote this in Sep 2009 when he was in Nursery 2. The recipient was a K2 gal who he chose to sit with from time to time. (According to the bus auntie, many kids want to sit with him so he gets to choose who he wants to sit with.) It happened that this gal was sick thus was unable to sit with him for fear of spreading germs.She was very kind to write a letter to explain. Here, Cavan reciprocated with a letter, affirming that he was still her friend.

The next one is more recent. Dated 29 Sep 2010. I'm really not sure if this should go to the gal. What would the parents think? Well, I figure that since many letters have passed us by without our knowledge of the contents, I'll just let him go ahead.

And this letter goes nicely into a recycled envelope. He likes it because it's colourful. And on it, he boldly claims that he is her best friend.

So, will the letters ever get him or us into a situation? Not yet a sticky one, I'd say. There was once I received an sms from a parent, responding to Cavan's request on a letter. What's it all about? More on that later.

Right now, I'm just crossing my fingers that the parents of the above recipient will not complain about harrassment.