One fine Sunday...

We decided to bring Chloe biking at Fort Bonifacio


Unfortunately, the bike's gears weren't working. So the little one decided to start posing for pictures instead..



After which, we all got hungry and went to Chelsea Market & Cafe for a late lunch. The little one feasted on the complimentary bread...


Mike had this pork dish with cranberries...


I had the Fettuccine Carbonara. I was so hungry, I forgot to take a picture. :P

We ended the day with scoops of gelato from Gelatissimo....


We took lots of pics that day, but this one is my favorite....



FYI, I was seated most of the time. :)

Discipline 101

It is during times like these when I feel that I am unfit for motherhood.

I just came from a two hour battle with Chloe. Over eight spoonfuls of rice and chicken adobo. And the battle is not over. She is still downstairs, facing the wall and crying her heart out. I cannot say that I've won the battle, even though she is currently serving her 'sentence' for it. We are both worn out, tired and exasperated from each other. Yet, I do not think either of us came out the wiser.

I have left the care of Chloe to her yaya for almost seven months now. The yaya is wonderful. At least, I think she is. I feel she loves Chloe, and sincerely believes she's doing the right thing. But after interviewing several moms who have kids around Chloe's age, and finding out that their kids are eating by themselves already, I panicked. A year ago, while we were out malling, Mike and I saw a boy of about eight to ten years old, being spoonfed by a yaya while his mom looked on. Spoonfed. At (conservatively) eight years old!!! I shudder at the thought of Chloe reaching that age, and still being spoonfed.

So the transition from being spoonfed to eating by herself was sudden. One day, I just decided on it. I know she knows how to eat by herself. All I have to do now is make her want to do it.

And from the looks of it, I'm not being successful at the task.

I have to remind myself that I am dealing with a three year old. I have to remind myself that when I was still single, I had dreams of being THE BEST mom because I'd know how to handle my own kids well. Silly me. It wasn't a dream. It was a fantasy.

Look at where we are now. :( The dinner table has become a battleground of some sort. We both dread being on it. We both cannot wait to get out of it.

Not only that. But lately, EVERYTHING has been a struggle. From getting her to brush her teeth in the morning, to getting her to brush her teeth at night. Even the aircon and electric fan have become issues. She wants it on. I want it off. And we fight.

Sometimes, actually, a lot of times, I just want to let her be. You don't want to brush your teeth? Then don't. You don't want to eat? Then don't. But if I do that, what kind of mother would I be?

I need to preserve my sanity, if only so I'd still be sane when the second baby comes. Even now, when people (i.e. MY MOM) tell me I need to bring another baby to this world in the hopes that it'll be a boy, in my mind, I am secretly bonking them on the head already. It would be so easy to just give birth and leave everything to the yaya's hands. But I know myself -- I cannot do it. I AM a hands on mom.

The other day, after a post toothbrush war, Chloe told her yaya she's scared of me. Because I'm so mad daw. It broke my heart into pieces. It made me think even more of whether I'm doing the right thing.

I knew parenting would be hard. I just didn't realize it would be this hard.

Hormonal

So to clarify, I am hormonal not because I'm mad at the world. :)

But because lately, I have been extra teary eyed, and that's putting it mildly.

I.cry.at.everything.

The night before Mike left for HK, I cried like we wouldn't see each other for the next six months. To think he would be gone for only five days.

I cried while watching 'My Amnesia Girl.' Not teary eyed crying. More like hagulgol crying.

I cried while watching the last two episodes of Desperate Housewives. Why? I do not know.

I cried when I saw McDonald's relaunching of the Karen commercial.

I cry when I see Chloe do something new. I cry when she tells me she loves me. Every night.

So that is why I think I'm hormonal.

God talked to me three times...

The first time was on November 18. I noticed some brownish spots on my underpants. We rushed to our OB, who prescribed some medications and bedrest. The brownish spots disappeared after two days. And upon reading up on it on the internet, I found out that brownish spots are nothing to worry about. So after two days, despite my doctor's orders, I went about my usual daily activities.

God probably said, "Huh? Was I not clear enough that I want her to slow down a bit? Let Me be a bit clearer this time."

So on the morning of November 27, as I got up from bed, I felt something. When I checked, there were reddish brown stains on my underpants. Not spots ha, stains. It stained the liner I was wearing completely. Again, we immediately rushed to our OB's clinic, who prescribed the same medications but with stricter orders for bedrest this time. No going out, no heavy activities. Just strict bedrest.

After a few days, the stains disappeared. So I became more lenient with myself. I refrained from going up and down the stairs, but I still walked around a lot inside our bedroom. No more heavy activities, but it wasn't what you'd call strict bedrest either.

So again, God probably said, "This woman just doesn't get it! For my next sign, I will make sure she stays put!"

On the morning of December 6, I got up from bed and again, felt the alarming wetness down there. This time, they were not reddish brown. The stains were bright red - like I was in the middle of my period. Referring back to the things I read on the net, I knew this wasn't good. So forcing myself to calm down, I laid down in bed for 30 minutes, hoping that the blood will stop. Mike called our OB, who immediately advised us to check into the nearby hospital.

While lying down, I prayed to God, to please, please let me learn this lesson of slowing down in another way. Please not this way.. please not this way. In hysterics, I called my brother, and asked him to pray too. (NOTE: When we were younger, I often turned to my brother to make my wishes come true. It sounds so silly, I know. But what the heck - I almost always got what I wished for!)

After 30 minutes, Mike and I were calm enough to pack up and go to the hospital. Before we left, I felt I had to pee. And the moment I did, I felt the blood gushing out from me. In less than five minutes, I had soaked up two liners.

CRAP.

When we got to the hospital, after the initial check ups, they confined me to the labor room, where I was hooked up to a doppler, with doctors checking up on me every 30 minutes to check for contractions. Thankfully, the bleeding stopped that evening.

BUT! God had other plans. Just to add some more drama, the next morning, after I peed, I felt some fluid leak out from me. Uncontrollably. And my first thought was, my water bag broke! That was the doctors' thought too, as they checked me. So I was sent to the ultrasound department to check that my amniotic fluid level was okay.

Fortunately, it was.

*************************************************************************************

The past few days had been really hellish, but there were several valuable lessons learned.

First is, to listen to my body. The first brownish spots were signs for me to slow down. But I refused to listen, and thought everybody around me (including my hubby and OB) were just being too overcautious. I now realize that when you're pregnant, overcautiousness IS a good thing.

Second, if I hadn't been so stubborn, MAYBE these heart stopping incidents could have been prevented. When I think back to all those activities I did, I couldn't think of anything that I could say would be worth the experience we had over the past few days.

Third, there are certain things that one cannot do anything about, regardless of all the precautions you took. That day when I thought my amniotic fluid was leaking, I had been lying in bed for 24 hours already, with strict monitoring from dozens of hospital staff. At that point, I just left everything up to Him.

I will be on strict bedrest from now until end of January, when I reach my 30th week and baby will have a fighting chance IF she comes out prematurely. I will miss Christmas, I will miss New Year. Heck, I"ll even miss Chinese New Year. But I don't mind. As long as she's okay.

Christmas

I've been spotting for almost two weeks now. On and off. Light spotting most of the time, but one heavy spotting was enough to make us run to the doctor, who, as expected, advised strict bedrest for me.

Then a week after the spotting incident, I got sick. Coughs, colds, sore throat... the works.

And because I love my family, I have isolated myself from them. Mike CANNOT get sick, especially during the holidays when their family businesss needs him the most. Chloe cannot get sick too, she has a Christmas program to perform! :) A performance, which, judging by the way things are going, I won't be able to see. :(

So I am on STRICT bedrest now. I get up only when I need to. I have asked the yaya not to bring Chloe in, so she won't get my germs. Also because I know that when she's here, I won't be able to resist playing with her.

I'm getting teary eyed just typing this entry. Well, because I had grand dreams this Christmas. Of going to kiddie Christmas activities. Of baking cookies with Chloe. Of going out for a romantic Christmas dinner with Mike. Of watching Chloe sit on Santa's lap while we take her picture. Of decorating our brand new Christmas tree together. The list can go on and on, and I can cry till my tears run out. But I cannot do anything about it.

But it's not all sad. Friends and family are always nearby. My parents bring over stuff they think I need. :) One call to Wenya and I have a brand new Christmas tree complete with the trimmings. And a brief chat with my uber busy brother, and he's on his way over with some illegally downloaded movies. :D Friends have come over to visit, because I cannot go out.

And Mike. Mike deserves a paragraph of his own. :) I know how busy he is at their store, but he manages to bring me the littlest, most trivial things I ask him for. Regardless of whether it's a need or a want, I just have to say it, and it's there. He wakes up early to bring Chloe to school, comes home late from work and immediately takes over looking after her.

Just so you know, the original title of this post was "Christmas :(." But after typing what I just wrote, I decided to remove the sad emoticon. Nothing to be sad for pala.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Maid from Hell

Okay, so I am not the best person to be writing this entry. I've had so many bad experiences with so many maids. But I'm not exaggerating when I say this - our current maid now has to be the WORST maid IN THE WORLD.

This current maid, who I'll call MFH (maid from hell) started working for us last June 28. 2010. At first, she was doing well. She'd wake up early and clean the house thoroughly. But that was just for the first week. After that, she'd start work around lunch time na, sometimes, even later. I didn't say anything na lang. As long as the work gets done, then I'm okay.

In the (almost) five months that she's been with us, she had done these things:

1. Told my brother's maid that I only gave her soy sauce and brown sugar for her ulam. OMG. Can someone please visit our house, look at our chubby maid and tell me if she looks malnourished?!?

2. Ran away one Friday night then had the gall to come back Saturday morning. Why? Because she had a fever, and I only gave her two Biogesic pills daw. I should've given more. I am so selfish daw. Again, OMG.

3. Bleached the Daphne linens Mike gave me for my birthday. Bleached!!! Php 5t++ worth of blue green linens, now with streaks of white!! Oh happy, happy, joy, joy!!!

4. Used our comforter and pillowcases!! Coz you know, she feels she's part of this family that feeds her nothing but soy sauce and sugar.

5. Eats our stuff. This is actually okay lang with me. I had no problem with previous maids doing this. But hey, diba we give her only sugar and soy sauce? So panindigan nya. Magpapayat naman sya para maging believable diba.

6. SMOKES!! Enough said!!

7. Took my stuff. I discovered this when I got suspicious because things in our room started disappearing.

And now, her latest gift -- a moth infestation. She had the bright idea of taking our sala's area rug and storing it downstairs. I didn't mind. Until last week, when I wanted to have the rug back in its place. I told her to wash the rug first before putting it back in the sala. BUT, since she feels she's smarter and better than me, she put it back without washing it.

So now, we have moths flying all over the place. I plan to catch them one by one and put them on her clothes. So she knows how it feels like. So she knows the consequences.

Why is she still here, you might ask. Because I am having a delicate pregnancy, and I cannot do the housework. I have a yaya for Chloe, and I think she'd be willing to do some housework, but I do not want to overload her. It's been two months since we requested for a replacement, and still, nada. I have considered other agencies, but haven't found a suitable replacement yet.

Last week, because I was soooooooooooooo pissed with MFH, I spotted. I promised myself I won't ever let MFH's shenanigans bother me again. Days later, I see moths flying all over the house. I don't go looking for issues. The issues come running to me. It's like God reminding me to let her go. NOW. With or without a replacement.

OMG. OMG. OMG.

Birthday thoughts for the little one

One of the traits that Mike and I have in common is that we are both practical spenders (aka barat). There are things that we highly prioritize that we are both willing to spend on, like education and health. For things not on our priority list, we try to live without them. Or if necessary, we opt for the most practical option available na lang.

Children's parties fall under the things-we-do-not-prioritize category. It was an unspoken agreement between us that we will only celebrate the first birthday party of our children. After that, celebrations will be done at home with our families and a few close friends na lang.

But that was 3 B.C. (before Chloe). Three years after, we find ourselves giving her not one....



...but two celebrations!



All it took was for Chloe to ask, "Can I puh-wees have party? Puh-weeeees?"

And all our practical, spending policies went flying out of the window. :)

**********

Some birthday thoughts for our little one, which I hope, she gets to read someday. :)

Princess,

During your Jollibee party, the host asked us if we had any wishes for you that we wanted to share with your guests. I declined. I'm not very good at impromptu speeches you see. :) That night, while recalling the events at the party, I did ask myself what my birthday wish for you was.

I wish for you to grow up with a strong sense of self, but you seem to be doing that all on your own, with little help from me. I wish for you to be humble YET confident,as I believe these two traits should always go together.

But my greatest wish for you actually has someting to do with me -- I wish that I can be the type of mom who can help you be these things I want you to be.

We love you baby! You never fail to make us proud of you everyday. :)

Boy or girl?

This week, my hubby and I decided to switch to another OB. Reason being, our (now ex) OB seemed to have a penchant for caesarian sections. After searching the net for good feedback, I came across Dra. Pilar Lagman-Dy, then I remembered she was referred to me months ago by Sab. That time, with the morning sickness and all, I scratched her off my list because her clinic was too far away for me to make my monthly visits. Now that I'm feeling better, I'm able to make the trip with no stopovers and no vomitting incidents along the way.

So there we were, sitting in front of Dra. Lagman-Dy. After she computed our baby's gestational age (17 weeks, 5 days), she said, "Ah, makikita na natin if girl or boy."

I was flabbergasted. It completely slipped my mind that I read in one of the internet articles that Dra. Lagman-Dy, former chair of St. Luke's Medical Center's Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology, can see the gender of the baby in as early as three months!

Early on during my pregnancy, people have asked if I preferred a girl or boy, and I would always answer that it doesn't matter to me, as long as the baby is healthy. Of course, we wanted a boy just to balance it out, but if the baby is a girl, okay pa din.

But at the back of my mind, I wasn't sure how I would really react. I mean, hoping to have a boy versus hearing the OB announce with finality the baby's gender are two different things. And I would only know how I really feel about it when the announcement is made.

So the good doctor did her usual routine, and after a few minutes, announced, "I see a girl."

I waited and waited for my reaction. I waited for that gut-wrenching, punched-in-the-stomach feeling - there was none. I was really okay with another girl! Wait, so I'm okay. But what about Mike?

Mike looked a bit sad for a few seconds. A bit lang naman. Then he was okay na din. We kinda had a feeling we were having another girl naman. Just that, some stupid fortune teller (highly recommended daw) predicted we were having a boy a few days ago. So that confused us a bit.

Then the OB started showing us her face. "She's looking at us," the doctor said. I couldn't really see her properly. Ultrasound pics confuse me. :) The doctor gave us a print out of the scan, which I stared at on our way home. And when I finally figured out the scan, and saw the black and white face staring at me, I cried. It was at that moment when I realized that boy or not, our second baby, who at this time really looks like a skull, is a blessing, no matter what other people say.

:)