I have barely 2" of clearance between my belly and the steering wheel in my car. I wonder how much longer I can drive comfortably? Maybe I'll need platform shoes soon to reach the pedals if I need to push the seat back.
Now where did I keep those clogs of mine?
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Abused
"Euw! What happened to your leg?" sis points out to the pink blotch that's been ornamenting my lower right leg since gawd knows when.
"It's a pregnancy blotch. I don't know what it is but it doesn't itch. It's just there. There's more! I started sprouting more on my knees and thighs too."
"Oh, oh...and check out the bruise I got from banging my leg into the bedframe!"
"Aiyoo!"
"Eeeuuuwwww! And what's this?" She points to a scar on my left arm.
"Oh, that's a remnant from a mosquito bite."
"You look like you're a victim of physical abuse!"
"Oh yeah. Here, check out the healing cat scratch on my upper left arm..."
"It's a pregnancy blotch. I don't know what it is but it doesn't itch. It's just there. There's more! I started sprouting more on my knees and thighs too."
"Oh, oh...and check out the bruise I got from banging my leg into the bedframe!"
"Aiyoo!"
"Eeeuuuwwww! And what's this?" She points to a scar on my left arm.
"Oh, that's a remnant from a mosquito bite."
"You look like you're a victim of physical abuse!"
"Oh yeah. Here, check out the healing cat scratch on my upper left arm..."
Week 33
Placenta: praevia
Baby's weight: approx. 2kg
Baby's sex: definitely a girl
Well, looks like I've found the cause of my aching pelvis: the baby's head is doing battle with a low-lying placenta. My next appointment and scan is two weeks from now. Doc says by then, if the baby's head doesn't nudge the darned placenta out of the way, he'll schedule a C-section.
Weighing at approximately 2kg, she's a little on the small side. Other than that, she's as healthy as a little peach.
"Put on some weight for me," the doc says.
"I'm eating but I'm the one putting on, not the baby!" I protest.
Sigh...
It's out of my hands now. If the baby doesn't push her way through and engage by the next two weeks, I'm gonna have to go under the knife.
In the meantime, she actually looks quite cute on the scan. Not that I can make out much other than her squashed little nose and her huge (or to me it seems) head. Then again, don't most babies have squashed noses?
Baby's weight: approx. 2kg
Baby's sex: definitely a girl
Well, looks like I've found the cause of my aching pelvis: the baby's head is doing battle with a low-lying placenta. My next appointment and scan is two weeks from now. Doc says by then, if the baby's head doesn't nudge the darned placenta out of the way, he'll schedule a C-section.
Weighing at approximately 2kg, she's a little on the small side. Other than that, she's as healthy as a little peach.
"Put on some weight for me," the doc says.
"I'm eating but I'm the one putting on, not the baby!" I protest.
Sigh...
It's out of my hands now. If the baby doesn't push her way through and engage by the next two weeks, I'm gonna have to go under the knife.
In the meantime, she actually looks quite cute on the scan. Not that I can make out much other than her squashed little nose and her huge (or to me it seems) head. Then again, don't most babies have squashed noses?
Bursting Out of My Low Riders
I give up.
My low-waisted panties are going to be relgated to the very back of my lingerie drawer soon. I'd put them on just over the weekend and had the problem of them slipping down my butt once too often. I'd find myself having to surreptitiously pull them back up.
I failed, by the way, in trying to pull my undies up surreptitiously. My butt's gotten so huge lately that I couldn't do anything to or with it surreptitiously even if I tried.
Now I understand why so many maternity stores stock those granny-like support panties. I think pretty soon I may need a few of my own.
My low-waisted panties are going to be relgated to the very back of my lingerie drawer soon. I'd put them on just over the weekend and had the problem of them slipping down my butt once too often. I'd find myself having to surreptitiously pull them back up.
I failed, by the way, in trying to pull my undies up surreptitiously. My butt's gotten so huge lately that I couldn't do anything to or with it surreptitiously even if I tried.
Now I understand why so many maternity stores stock those granny-like support panties. I think pretty soon I may need a few of my own.
Not Just A Number
I've been going to Thai Odyssey at 1U for regular leg massages. It's not the cheapest place in my area but I like the ambience and the convenience of doing my groceries either before or after a massage session.
Ever since I got my first leg cramp, I thought pampering myself to regular massages ought to improve the blood circulation to and in the general area. While I'm not sure about the general results, my lower legs have benefited from the massage oil that the masseuse uses: they feel smoother and softer than they've ever felt in my entire life. The sessions are so relaxing that I usually doze off for the hour that I'm ensconced in the reclining chair.
I was lucky enough to find a lady masseuse whose style I prefered after a few rounds of massages. I usually ask for her by name. Her touch is just nice: not too hard yet not too soft nor limpid when she massages. She's got powerful thumbs that she puts to good use during the shoulder massage.
I realised today that even though I refer to and request her by name, she also goes by an index number: 656. That number was written next to my name when I made a reservation today. I only bothered to look at the reservation list today because I'd specified the wrong time. Luckily she was available.
Almost towards the end of my session, I overheard a man speak to the receptionist. He confirmed that he requested #656 and that his wife wanted #691. He sounded like a regular. Somehow the conversation and the way he referred to the masseuse by index numbers and not by name seemed callous and disrespectful. He was polite and sounded soft-spoken but to not even bother to ask someone's name and remember it so that you can request for the person next time seemed somewhat uncompassionate.
To me, the masseuse are human beings and deserve to at least be called on by name by their patrons. I would understand if the employer assigned an ID number to an employee but to have a client refer to the service provider by number and not by name just didn't seem quite humane.
No doubt these service providers are not local, they're Thai and some people might deem they are "lesser" citizens of the country. I wonder what that man would feel if he were to be referred to by one of his clients by ID number instead of by his name.
For performing a service that ensures our well-being, the least these women deserve is to be called by name and not some index number. I don't expect them to be paid much by their local employer, therefore I make sure that I leave a tip for the person who's given me my relaxing foot massage. I know of at least one other patron who does so. But I wonder if the other patrons spare a thought for these women?
In any case, I wonder if we KL-ites have lost our capacity for compassion? Or is it just me being a tad sensitive?
Ever since I got my first leg cramp, I thought pampering myself to regular massages ought to improve the blood circulation to and in the general area. While I'm not sure about the general results, my lower legs have benefited from the massage oil that the masseuse uses: they feel smoother and softer than they've ever felt in my entire life. The sessions are so relaxing that I usually doze off for the hour that I'm ensconced in the reclining chair.
I was lucky enough to find a lady masseuse whose style I prefered after a few rounds of massages. I usually ask for her by name. Her touch is just nice: not too hard yet not too soft nor limpid when she massages. She's got powerful thumbs that she puts to good use during the shoulder massage.
I realised today that even though I refer to and request her by name, she also goes by an index number: 656. That number was written next to my name when I made a reservation today. I only bothered to look at the reservation list today because I'd specified the wrong time. Luckily she was available.
Almost towards the end of my session, I overheard a man speak to the receptionist. He confirmed that he requested #656 and that his wife wanted #691. He sounded like a regular. Somehow the conversation and the way he referred to the masseuse by index numbers and not by name seemed callous and disrespectful. He was polite and sounded soft-spoken but to not even bother to ask someone's name and remember it so that you can request for the person next time seemed somewhat uncompassionate.
To me, the masseuse are human beings and deserve to at least be called on by name by their patrons. I would understand if the employer assigned an ID number to an employee but to have a client refer to the service provider by number and not by name just didn't seem quite humane.
No doubt these service providers are not local, they're Thai and some people might deem they are "lesser" citizens of the country. I wonder what that man would feel if he were to be referred to by one of his clients by ID number instead of by his name.
For performing a service that ensures our well-being, the least these women deserve is to be called by name and not some index number. I don't expect them to be paid much by their local employer, therefore I make sure that I leave a tip for the person who's given me my relaxing foot massage. I know of at least one other patron who does so. But I wonder if the other patrons spare a thought for these women?
In any case, I wonder if we KL-ites have lost our capacity for compassion? Or is it just me being a tad sensitive?
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
After...
Dancing at 7 months gone during Havana Estudio's Gangsters & Divas Anniversary Party 2007.
I have boobs!!
C-E-L-L-U-L-I-T-E
The Goodyear blimp has nothing on me.
By now I should realise that nothing is impossible during pregnancy. Like the fact that I can find cellulite growing in communal clumps on my upper arms. Or that my back could possibly feel any stiffer for all the curdled-milk-buildup-gone-awry creeping from my knees all the way up my thighs to my butt and settling on my back.
As Vicki Iovine said in The Girlfriend's Guide To Pregnancy, "...I had cellulite so bad it looked like I had been pelted with cottage cheese..."
This close and intimate encounter with the enemy is all but driving me up the wall. A total-body experience it is turning out to be because daily I find new clumps of the offending buildup turning up on my body. Soon, I'll be expecting to find cellulite even down where my feet and ankles are. Who knows? Maybe my fingers will take to the stuff and start sprouting some of their own.
It's so rampant it feels like a plague raging across the landscape of my body like spores let loose from a lalang pod. Soon it'll be creeping up my neck and populating my face. Then my husband will return home one weekend to find this huge monstrous blob that's taken over his wife's body.
I was so desperate I'd even bought some anti-cellulite massage cream and have been dilligently massaging it into my butt and thighs every morning and evening. Somehow, I don't think it's working. I'm just about ready to give up and give in to this "total body" experience that pregnancy is making me go through.
I just wonder how I'll get rid of all this offending clump after the baby's born. Maybe I'll just make sure my urut lady applies her magical hands and fingers to all my problem areas and massage them away.
In my life however, things are not always that easy nor simple.
But then again, there's always liposuction...
By now I should realise that nothing is impossible during pregnancy. Like the fact that I can find cellulite growing in communal clumps on my upper arms. Or that my back could possibly feel any stiffer for all the curdled-milk-buildup-gone-awry creeping from my knees all the way up my thighs to my butt and settling on my back.
As Vicki Iovine said in The Girlfriend's Guide To Pregnancy, "...I had cellulite so bad it looked like I had been pelted with cottage cheese..."
This close and intimate encounter with the enemy is all but driving me up the wall. A total-body experience it is turning out to be because daily I find new clumps of the offending buildup turning up on my body. Soon, I'll be expecting to find cellulite even down where my feet and ankles are. Who knows? Maybe my fingers will take to the stuff and start sprouting some of their own.
It's so rampant it feels like a plague raging across the landscape of my body like spores let loose from a lalang pod. Soon it'll be creeping up my neck and populating my face. Then my husband will return home one weekend to find this huge monstrous blob that's taken over his wife's body.
I was so desperate I'd even bought some anti-cellulite massage cream and have been dilligently massaging it into my butt and thighs every morning and evening. Somehow, I don't think it's working. I'm just about ready to give up and give in to this "total body" experience that pregnancy is making me go through.
I just wonder how I'll get rid of all this offending clump after the baby's born. Maybe I'll just make sure my urut lady applies her magical hands and fingers to all my problem areas and massage them away.
In my life however, things are not always that easy nor simple.
But then again, there's always liposuction...
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
And they're still growing...
"Omigawd!! Your boobs are so huuuuge! I can see your veins!"
"Tell me about it. Didn't yours grow this much when you were pregnant?"
"No, no, they didn't!"
Sigh...I miss my old boobies.
"You know, they won't go back to their old shape."
"I suppose they'll sag?"
"Well, somewhat."
Sigh...
"Tell me about it. Didn't yours grow this much when you were pregnant?"
"No, no, they didn't!"
Sigh...I miss my old boobies.
"You know, they won't go back to their old shape."
"I suppose they'll sag?"
"Well, somewhat."
Sigh...
Cramp
My right leg cramped up again in bed last night. Always happens sometime in the middle of the night or towards the morning when I try to stretch my leg. Almost yelled out in pain. Must remember to refrain from trying to stretch; instead of relieving tension, I end up with a killer cramp.
Managed to withstand the pain and stretch it out without having to wake up the other half. Am getting used to this. I have to; it's not that he will be around for the next two months to assist when I get cramped up again. I doubt that even if he was around I'd be able to jostle him awake.
In any case, self-sufficiency is vital.
Managed to withstand the pain and stretch it out without having to wake up the other half. Am getting used to this. I have to; it's not that he will be around for the next two months to assist when I get cramped up again. I doubt that even if he was around I'd be able to jostle him awake.
In any case, self-sufficiency is vital.
As if I haven't Bought Enough Baby Stuff
A friend insisted we go baby shopping today. I must say that shopping with someone who's given birth before is so much more fun than going on my own. Lots of advice and tips were given out while we looked for essentials. Here's what I ended up with:
1. Bottle warmer. Great for night feeds when you're too tired to mix in the formula with hot and/or cold water. "Just keep some water in the bottle, make sure it's warm, add in the formula, shake it and your baby's ready to go. It's worth the investment because you can use it until they're two or so."
2. Pacifier. "We tried not using it at all and then not too often. But you never know when you need it."
3. Compartmentalised formula container. "Just pour the formula into the warmed bottle and you're done!"
4. Rubberised baby change mat. "You need this because you never know if or when the baby's gonna pee when you change him/her." Yikes.
5. Non-slip baby mat for tub. "Useful because it helps to keep the baby in position in the tub."
6. Talc container with puff. Self-explanatory.
7. Baby oil. For myself more than the baby, since I bought a really small bottle to begin with and it's running out (didn't expect to use such copious amounts at this late stage).
1. Bottle warmer. Great for night feeds when you're too tired to mix in the formula with hot and/or cold water. "Just keep some water in the bottle, make sure it's warm, add in the formula, shake it and your baby's ready to go. It's worth the investment because you can use it until they're two or so."
2. Pacifier. "We tried not using it at all and then not too often. But you never know when you need it."
3. Compartmentalised formula container. "Just pour the formula into the warmed bottle and you're done!"
4. Rubberised baby change mat. "You need this because you never know if or when the baby's gonna pee when you change him/her." Yikes.
5. Non-slip baby mat for tub. "Useful because it helps to keep the baby in position in the tub."
6. Talc container with puff. Self-explanatory.
7. Baby oil. For myself more than the baby, since I bought a really small bottle to begin with and it's running out (didn't expect to use such copious amounts at this late stage).
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Human Incubator
"I'm sweating like a pig!"
"You're incubating a baby; practically a walking incubator."
"..."
"You're incubating a baby; practically a walking incubator."
"..."
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Indifference
It has to be progress that I am able to somewhat replace, or rather, tame anger and frustration with indifference. At the very least I won't be expanding energy unnecessarily. And gawd only knows I will need whatever energy I can rummage up from now until the day I pop.
I also wouldn't want Sophia to be born a pessimist or a sourpuss. They say emotions pass from mother to baby so my task will be to at least remain indifferent (no feeling is better than bad feelings) if I cannot conjure happy thoughts.
In the meantime, I think I should play more Russell Watson, Andre Bocelli or Mozart on the home stereo/iPod.
I also wouldn't want Sophia to be born a pessimist or a sourpuss. They say emotions pass from mother to baby so my task will be to at least remain indifferent (no feeling is better than bad feelings) if I cannot conjure happy thoughts.
In the meantime, I think I should play more Russell Watson, Andre Bocelli or Mozart on the home stereo/iPod.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Checklist
Done this weekend in preparation for baby's arrival:
1. Bought bottle brush, disposable diapers and more baby clothes detergent.
2. Laundered cloth diapers and baby clothes.
3. Cleaned out set of unused drawers for baby stuff: diapers, clothes, towels, etc.
4. Received with gratitude baby bathtub and rocker/swing "baby sarong" contraption from parents.
5. Had a healthy meal of fish porridge chock full of dried sotong, scallops, peanuts, ginger and of course, fresh fish (although technically, this has nothing to do with preparation for the baby's arrival).
6. Organised stashing of baby stuff.
7. Watched "Birth Day" on Channel 77 and scared the living daylights out of self.
1. Bought bottle brush, disposable diapers and more baby clothes detergent.
2. Laundered cloth diapers and baby clothes.
3. Cleaned out set of unused drawers for baby stuff: diapers, clothes, towels, etc.
4. Received with gratitude baby bathtub and rocker/swing "baby sarong" contraption from parents.
5. Had a healthy meal of fish porridge chock full of dried sotong, scallops, peanuts, ginger and of course, fresh fish (although technically, this has nothing to do with preparation for the baby's arrival).
6. Organised stashing of baby stuff.
7. Watched "Birth Day" on Channel 77 and scared the living daylights out of self.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Belly laughs
Copyright © Cathy Thorne I stumbled upon this cartoon in my weekly email from BabyCenter.com. How appropriate. For more and similar cartoons by Cathy Thorne, visit www.everydaypeoplecartoons.com.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Week 29
Weight: 60kg
Belly: tight as a drum
Feeling: bloated as a whale
This week's worry after visit to the doc: toxoplasmosis. I could have sworn we mentioned to him that we have cats and even asked him about litter cleaning. I remember him telling Rizal that as long as I don't do litter, am fine.
When he saw me on Tuesday, he noticed the scar on my hand. When I told him it was a cat scratch, his face turned. "You have cats?" Oh dear. Was not good. Started to check my blood test results and realised we didn't test for toxoplasma. And at this point, there is nothing much we can do even if I do test and am found positive. If it were true, it's too late for abortion and the baby would have been infected. Great. So I read up all I could about toxoplasmosis and well, decided to do the test anyway the next day. Let's hope my IgM levels test negative. Fingers crossed.
I can see all of my belly button! It's getting shallower and wider by the day. Some time ago I realised that I really should clean it out before it goes on full view to the rest of world. I noticed a huge black spot in there and try as I might, I couldn't get it to scrub off. All I was doing was making the area around it redder and redder. So I stuck my finger in there and tried a bit of scratching. No luck either. Then I took a closer look; duh. Who in the world gets a mole in their belly button? It had to be me, of course.
Getting into bed, moving around in bed and getting out of bed is getting to be a chore. I have to roll myself onto my side and sort of generally roll up and out of bed. If I want to turn from my left side to the right, I'd have to roll onto my back first, with hands on belly and shift my entire weight from lying on my back to my right, all the while hanging on to the belly so I don't sprain a muscle. Ditto going from right to left.
While lathering the heels of my feet with lotion (did I mention anything about cracked heels? Will not even go there) lying in bed, I realised that the orange peel effect on my thighs are even more pronounced. Another legacy I'll have to live with.
Application of baby oil has also stepped up: all over the belly and now even the boobs. So far so good, no stretch marks in sight. We'll see if that's still the case a few weeks from now.
I'm starting to really waddle now.
I don't know if it's the lack of space in my bodily cavity or just the baby getting bigger. She seems to be moving a lot now. Or rather, I can feel a lot of her movements. She's a little dynamo; moves all the time. After meals, in bed, when I'm on the couch, when I'm sitting at the office, when I'm walking, driving. All. the. time. The movements range from little taps to severe jerks. There're knocks on the side of the belly, staccato raps lower down, sudden prods here and there; I'm running out of descriptions. Sometimes she just bumps faintly while turning, or so I think anyway.
My pelvic floor still feels like I've sat on the exercise bike for too long. I don't suppose that feeling will go away for a while. Maybe even after I explode. Do I really need to remember the years I toiled on those bikes at the gym?
My midnight or rather, wee hour morning cravings are coming back again. Lack of sleep is starting to become an issue. How does one go back to peaceful slumber after eating at 3am or 4am and then wake up refreshed before 7am? I for one, have no clue.
I'm also starting lose my brain cells. Memory loss is becoming more acute and all I can think of after a meal is sleep. I bought a succulent piece of cod while grocery shopping at Cold Storage last night. It cost me a whopping RM20. When I got home, I realised I'd left the cod at the checkout counter. Go figure.
Like I tell my friends, nyanyuk already.
Belly: tight as a drum
Feeling: bloated as a whale
This week's worry after visit to the doc: toxoplasmosis. I could have sworn we mentioned to him that we have cats and even asked him about litter cleaning. I remember him telling Rizal that as long as I don't do litter, am fine.
When he saw me on Tuesday, he noticed the scar on my hand. When I told him it was a cat scratch, his face turned. "You have cats?" Oh dear. Was not good. Started to check my blood test results and realised we didn't test for toxoplasma. And at this point, there is nothing much we can do even if I do test and am found positive. If it were true, it's too late for abortion and the baby would have been infected. Great. So I read up all I could about toxoplasmosis and well, decided to do the test anyway the next day. Let's hope my IgM levels test negative. Fingers crossed.
I can see all of my belly button! It's getting shallower and wider by the day. Some time ago I realised that I really should clean it out before it goes on full view to the rest of world. I noticed a huge black spot in there and try as I might, I couldn't get it to scrub off. All I was doing was making the area around it redder and redder. So I stuck my finger in there and tried a bit of scratching. No luck either. Then I took a closer look; duh. Who in the world gets a mole in their belly button? It had to be me, of course.
Getting into bed, moving around in bed and getting out of bed is getting to be a chore. I have to roll myself onto my side and sort of generally roll up and out of bed. If I want to turn from my left side to the right, I'd have to roll onto my back first, with hands on belly and shift my entire weight from lying on my back to my right, all the while hanging on to the belly so I don't sprain a muscle. Ditto going from right to left.
While lathering the heels of my feet with lotion (did I mention anything about cracked heels? Will not even go there) lying in bed, I realised that the orange peel effect on my thighs are even more pronounced. Another legacy I'll have to live with.
Application of baby oil has also stepped up: all over the belly and now even the boobs. So far so good, no stretch marks in sight. We'll see if that's still the case a few weeks from now.
I'm starting to really waddle now.
I don't know if it's the lack of space in my bodily cavity or just the baby getting bigger. She seems to be moving a lot now. Or rather, I can feel a lot of her movements. She's a little dynamo; moves all the time. After meals, in bed, when I'm on the couch, when I'm sitting at the office, when I'm walking, driving. All. the. time. The movements range from little taps to severe jerks. There're knocks on the side of the belly, staccato raps lower down, sudden prods here and there; I'm running out of descriptions. Sometimes she just bumps faintly while turning, or so I think anyway.
My pelvic floor still feels like I've sat on the exercise bike for too long. I don't suppose that feeling will go away for a while. Maybe even after I explode. Do I really need to remember the years I toiled on those bikes at the gym?
My midnight or rather, wee hour morning cravings are coming back again. Lack of sleep is starting to become an issue. How does one go back to peaceful slumber after eating at 3am or 4am and then wake up refreshed before 7am? I for one, have no clue.
I'm also starting lose my brain cells. Memory loss is becoming more acute and all I can think of after a meal is sleep. I bought a succulent piece of cod while grocery shopping at Cold Storage last night. It cost me a whopping RM20. When I got home, I realised I'd left the cod at the checkout counter. Go figure.
Like I tell my friends, nyanyuk already.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
One for the Gals
Now that I'm preggers and my boobs are humongo-licious, I find that instead of the guys staring at my headlights, the girls are the ones who let their gazes linger longer.
Maybe it's my bump that's caught their attention too?
Or is it just the fact that I look fat to the guys?
I suspect it may be the varicose veins that visibly snake their way across my breasts forming a sort of grotesque ornament especially when shown off in the various spaghetti tops I wear on the weekends.
Thoughts that probably go off in their heads:
"Euw!! She should just put a shawl over those things!"
"Yuck, what could she possibly be thinking, going out in that?!"
"She thinks she's so hot, doesn't she know she's pregnant?"
"Hey, not bad for a pregnant woman."
"I wonder if she realises she's got THREE bulges?"
"I wouldn't wear THAT if I were her."
"I wonder how many months she is?"
What can I say? We women really can be very unkind to our own gender. I should know, after all, I'm one of them too.
Maybe it's my bump that's caught their attention too?
Or is it just the fact that I look fat to the guys?
I suspect it may be the varicose veins that visibly snake their way across my breasts forming a sort of grotesque ornament especially when shown off in the various spaghetti tops I wear on the weekends.
Thoughts that probably go off in their heads:
"Euw!! She should just put a shawl over those things!"
"Yuck, what could she possibly be thinking, going out in that?!"
"She thinks she's so hot, doesn't she know she's pregnant?"
"Hey, not bad for a pregnant woman."
"I wonder if she realises she's got THREE bulges?"
"I wouldn't wear THAT if I were her."
"I wonder how many months she is?"
What can I say? We women really can be very unkind to our own gender. I should know, after all, I'm one of them too.
The Slow Ride to the Long Way Down
They say that having kids will deplete your financial resources and probably sink you into the depths of bankruptcy.
How true.
A few weeks ago, we splurged on a Peg Perego stroller + baby car seat combo package. Let's just say I could probably get an iPod Nano and more with the amount we forked over. We have yet to get the breast pumps, bottles, teats and other nursing paraphernalia that we will need later on. Since Rizal will be in Singapore during June, and those items are slightly cheaper across the causeway, we may just wait for the Great Singapore Sale to kick off then before we buy anything related to bottles and teats and pumps.
Just today, we schlepped from one end of 1U - Jusco - to the other end - Parkson - just so we could take advantage of the sales at Parkson for some baby clothes. Not that there was much of a price discount. Would 10% be considered reasonable? We ended up with two pairs of Pigeon brand front-button-down t-shirts with pants and two pairs of booties + mittens, the sum amount of which came up to about RM55. That's just two pairs each. I refrained from buying any other items because I know for a fact that the Parkson at Subang Parade has a 50% discount on some Anakku garments which I could possibly live with putting on my child.
Of course, she will have to alternate between blue and pink items. In this day and age, they still produce items of clothing in stereotypical blue or pink. You'd think that baby garment manufacturers would wise up and just make clothes in multi-gender colours like green or yellow or white. Well, actually they do. It's probably because parents are wising up and buying clothes in these colours that they have to heavily discount the ubiquitous pink and blue items.
So it will be back to Subang Parade to buy a piece each of blue and pink shirts at a bargain RM5 -RM6 per piece. Two for the price of one!!
I am all for bargains. After all, we haven't even gone into the kid's education fund yet. What about further follow-up visits to the paediatrician and other important things in life we will have to spend on her? And the other kids?
God help us all.
How true.
A few weeks ago, we splurged on a Peg Perego stroller + baby car seat combo package. Let's just say I could probably get an iPod Nano and more with the amount we forked over. We have yet to get the breast pumps, bottles, teats and other nursing paraphernalia that we will need later on. Since Rizal will be in Singapore during June, and those items are slightly cheaper across the causeway, we may just wait for the Great Singapore Sale to kick off then before we buy anything related to bottles and teats and pumps.
Just today, we schlepped from one end of 1U - Jusco - to the other end - Parkson - just so we could take advantage of the sales at Parkson for some baby clothes. Not that there was much of a price discount. Would 10% be considered reasonable? We ended up with two pairs of Pigeon brand front-button-down t-shirts with pants and two pairs of booties + mittens, the sum amount of which came up to about RM55. That's just two pairs each. I refrained from buying any other items because I know for a fact that the Parkson at Subang Parade has a 50% discount on some Anakku garments which I could possibly live with putting on my child.
Of course, she will have to alternate between blue and pink items. In this day and age, they still produce items of clothing in stereotypical blue or pink. You'd think that baby garment manufacturers would wise up and just make clothes in multi-gender colours like green or yellow or white. Well, actually they do. It's probably because parents are wising up and buying clothes in these colours that they have to heavily discount the ubiquitous pink and blue items.
So it will be back to Subang Parade to buy a piece each of blue and pink shirts at a bargain RM5 -RM6 per piece. Two for the price of one!!
I am all for bargains. After all, we haven't even gone into the kid's education fund yet. What about further follow-up visits to the paediatrician and other important things in life we will have to spend on her? And the other kids?
God help us all.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Like Riding a Bike
Some days it feels like I've ridden too long on an exercise bike; your pelvis hurts after sitting too long cycling away the calories and you walk somewhat funny the next day. Except that this is getting to be almost every day.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Baby Explosion (II)
Like I said, there has been a spate of babies born recently. I checked with a prenatal yoga instructor just today about taking classes and she told me that classes have been cancelled. The batch of ladies who were taking classes with her have all just gone to give birth. Argh! All at once? Talk about synchronising our moon cycles!
Unless she can get a minimum of two students to form a class, it looks like I'm out for this too. Sigh...in any case, she will keep me posted.
Oh, and Natasha, the yoga instructor? She's preggers too!
Unless she can get a minimum of two students to form a class, it looks like I'm out for this too. Sigh...in any case, she will keep me posted.
Oh, and Natasha, the yoga instructor? She's preggers too!
Baby explosion
There has been a spate of babies born lately. An ex-colleague had a C-section about two months ago, hubby's friend across the street gave birth on the 19th and another friend's wife is due anytime now, and most recently a friend of mine popped out a baby girl this morning.
Oh, and another mutual friend all the way in the US is expecting about the same time as I am.
I am surrounded by exploding mamas. Talk about a bumper year for babies.
Today is not a smooth day. Some issues at work that I've not been able to resolve and am yet to wrap up. But I just don't feel like I have the energy. Am bloated as a dead corpse on the side of the road (think roadkill) and I feel like I've been on the exercise bike for too long; my pelvic bones are killing me when I walk: I look like I've got something major stuck up my ass.
I spent the better part of the late morning sending out text messages to people telling them I've changed my Celcom line to Maxis. I will miss my Celcom number but we have to be pragmatic here: 90% of the people I contact use Maxis and where cost savings can be achieved, we must move towards the healthier bottomline, favourite number be damned. Oh well...a minor change in a year full of bigger changes.
It's also a quiet day as banks, government offices and most MNCs are off for the Agong's installation. My sales team is probably having teh tarik somewhere after their meagre two appointments for the day. The tech specialist is still testing out that unit I need sent out to the client tomorrow. And I am ... sleeeeeeeepyyyyy...
Oh, and another mutual friend all the way in the US is expecting about the same time as I am.
I am surrounded by exploding mamas. Talk about a bumper year for babies.
Today is not a smooth day. Some issues at work that I've not been able to resolve and am yet to wrap up. But I just don't feel like I have the energy. Am bloated as a dead corpse on the side of the road (think roadkill) and I feel like I've been on the exercise bike for too long; my pelvic bones are killing me when I walk: I look like I've got something major stuck up my ass.
I spent the better part of the late morning sending out text messages to people telling them I've changed my Celcom line to Maxis. I will miss my Celcom number but we have to be pragmatic here: 90% of the people I contact use Maxis and where cost savings can be achieved, we must move towards the healthier bottomline, favourite number be damned. Oh well...a minor change in a year full of bigger changes.
It's also a quiet day as banks, government offices and most MNCs are off for the Agong's installation. My sales team is probably having teh tarik somewhere after their meagre two appointments for the day. The tech specialist is still testing out that unit I need sent out to the client tomorrow. And I am ... sleeeeeeeepyyyyy...
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