I'm so exhausted today.
Yesterday I had quite a busy day. Met my parents for lunch, went shopping, came home to cook dinner, went out shopping again after that... Came home and did some packing and folding, and then when I tried to iron, I discovered that my arms couldn't move.
I'm still so fatigued today.
Just two days ago, I was asking my MIL for help in looking for a job. But it seems like God's sending me a message. Because every time I think I want to go and work to earn some money, this fatigue thing sets in. The last time I got this exhausted feeling was when I was considering whether or not to do some data entry at a peanut factory at Ulu Pandan. I remember I got cramps along with fatigue that time, and had to stay in bed to rest.
So I think I'll just stay unemployed and keep myself busy by exercising, planning what baby things are needed and, of course, shopping!!
Hunny put his ear on my tummy just now - he was trying to listen out for the baby's heartbeat. But guess what? He got a kick on his cheek instead! Hahaha! Baby kicked daddy! I have one very active baby!
My baby likes to move a lot. Especially when there's loud, jangly music on. Like MTV. Or when I eat ice cream. Baby likes ice cream!! Magazines and websites say that the baby might be quite inactive during this period of the pregnancy. It might be sleeping as much as 20 hours a day and active only for 4 hours. Hah! I think my baby is the other way around - active for 20 hours and sleeping only for the other 4!
Some websites say also that this is the time when my belly button might start to pop out. I know many women go "eww" at the thought of a popped out belly button, but honestly, when I look at my navel right now, I don't know if having it pop out is that bad after all. My belly button is still nicely tucked in - but it looks so huge! It's just like what Solomon described in his Song of Songs, "Your navel is a rounded goblet."
Ah well, I'm already halfway through my pregnancy. As for now, I have a rounded goblet, and a lively baby. Who knows what the next 20 weeks will bring? I can hardly wait.
I went to Marina Square today for some retail therapy and got lost. I couldn't find my way back to the taxi stand but somehow ended up at Citylink instead, so I decided to take a train back home.
In the MRT, nobody even bothered to ask me if I wanted a seat. The half of the carriage I was facing pointedly ignored my belly (quite obviously displayed today). The other half of the carriage must have seen the large bag slung over my shoulder that said, "Maternity Exchange".
But nobody offered me a seat.
My conclusion: Half of Singapore is blind, and the other half is illiterate.
Oh, but on the LRT ride home, one kind lady finally offered me her seat. Which I declined because she didn't look very young and robust herself.
Check out my Chinese New Year goodies!
I tell you, I have never ever seen so much food prepared for Chinese New Year before. It's just not done in my family. Not on my mom's side, and not on my dad's. I think I must be deprived or something.
I'm so fatigued - I spent the whole night cleaning the home.. I'm quite ready to drop into bed right now. But the most exciting thing happened last night! I felt my baby move! I've been trying very hard for weeks to discern the baby's movement, but I was never really sure if what I felt was gas or really my baby. Last night, I finally knew for sure. And even more amazing - I saw my belly twitch! A spot near my belly button went up and down, accompanied by that bubbly feeling inside my body. This happened three times! Little baby is having fun moving around, I think...
It's excellent. Everything is excellent. Baby moving is excellent. House is clean and excellent. Hunny is sweet and excellent. And I'm most delighted to say, the bak kwa is EXCELLENT! Yummy!
I went swimming today. And got sunburnt. I'm so useless - can't even stay out in the sun for long without turning red like a lobster. Worst part - I just can't get tanned! Get red and peel - that's me.
We swam at NSRCC at Changi. My dad picked me up and then picked my sis up and then we went to pick Adrian up from work (he was on half-day) and headed to NSRCC for lunch and swimming.
Lunch was pretty eventful.. lousy waitress had a crap memory and an even worse attitude. Poor Adrian lost his appetite because of the lousy service so he didn't get to eat a proper lunch.
Swimming was fun.. a lazy affair, soaking in the water and baking in the sun (hence the burn)... We saw some ah bengs and ah lians at the pool - they weren't really serious about swimming either. One of the guys was doing some bouncy thing in the water that my sis found quite amusing. Maybe he was intrigued by the sudden bouyancy of... um... certain body parts. We were quite fascinated by one of the ah lians who had a huge tattoo running from her shoulder to her ass - and by tattoo I mean the fierce fierce kind hor, not the girly flower/swirly/tribal patterns.. I spent quite a lot of time looking at those skinny girls in their bikinis and feeling quite self-conscious about my round shape squeezed into a tankini that barely covers my tummy. My sis was probably the only serious swimmer in the pool - she must have done like 20 lengths, whereas Adrian and I gave up after 10 lengths and went to soak in the jacuzzi tubs.
We got up, showered, had some food, and then left for home. But just as we were nearing Bukit Panjang, Adrian suddenly got a call - he had to go back to Changi Air Base for an emergency. Argh!! All the way back there! Again! For those of you who are geographically challenged like I am, Bukit Panjang and Changi are very far apart. $30 taxi fare type of far apart. My dad was really nice, he offered to give Adrian a lift to Changi after he had dropped my sis and I at BP. Adrian was a bit concerned about his attire - his uniform had been squished inside his gym bag and was quite unwearable. I can still remember what he said to his colleague - "Eh, I'm going to be wearing civvies. My uniform is folded in my bag. I just went to do sports." *I'm sniggering* Sports eh? Wah, so active hah?
It was a great day. Lots of fun and laughter. A nice day to store in my memory bank. Somewhere along the long journey back to BP from the club, we started musing, lulled by the weather and the monotony of the drive. My dad said that journeys like this always made him think about his childhood days. My sister said she would think about shopping - shopaholic! Me? I somehow always think of the beach. I remember the lazy days I spent with Adrian at the beach at Sentosa - our beer bottles sweating inside our little coleman cooler as we roasted ourselves on the sand. I remember the heat of the sun and the cool of the sea. I remember the smell of suntan lotion and the greasy feel of the lotion mixed with perspiration as we heated under the sun. I remember playing pool at the beach bars in our swimwear and flip flops.
When will I get to do all these things again? I don't know. I do know that my life is going to change very drastically very soon, but I don't know what to expect. Sometimes when I look back on the past, I feel a twinge - not of sadness, no, not quite, but perhaps of envy - envy of my younger, more carefree self who could do anything she wanted with little regard for something so serious as the future. But then I look at myself now, and I figure I like what I see. And then looking into the future - ahh... even if it's only speculation, it's a beautiful sight.
Isn't she beautiful?
Yes, she. We have a baby girl! We just found out today when we went for the detailed scan (second trimester screening). The doctor kept us in suspense, working his way from the baby's head all the way down. He had some problems scanning the baby's brain - "Your baby likes to move!" he said. My contrary little baby liked to turn the other way whenever the doctor wanted to get a still shot of the brain.
Finally, he said the much-awaited words, "Here we see the gender... A baby girl.." I think I started tearing.
I'm so happy. Pink dresses, here I come! Pink booties too. Ooh, I love pink booties.
You've got to believe me when I say I want to let it go. Really.
I'm tired of feeling angry and hurt and upset. I'm tired of the sleepless nights and the constant replaying of her words in my mind. I'm tired of thinking of the what ifs - what if I had said this? or perhaps this? or what if this had happened instead? and what if she says this when we next meet?
I'm tired.
I want to sleep without having to watch TV till my eyelids droop and my mind goes fuzzy with fatigue.
I want to get through a day without having to carefully lock away that anger and resentment that simmers just below the surface, always, always.
I want to pray without crying at the wrong that's been done to me.
Believe me.
Don't say it wasn't a big deal. It is. Don't say I should just let it go. There is no "just" to doing it.
Can you not see that it was a brutal attack? One that left me wounded and bleeding?
Wounds do not heal in a day.
Help me, won't you? Help me heal. Comfort me when the anger resurfaces. Soothe me when the healing wounds itch and tempt me to scratch at scabs. Don't scold me, don't make light of what I feel. Don't force me to a place where you leave me no choice but to lock a part of myself away in silence. I need someone else, besides myself, to recognise that my wounds are real.
I'm so tired, so drained after all that anger and hurt. My eyes are so awful now - puffy and red and ugly - after crying for the whole night and day. I lost all the weight I painstakingly put on in just one day. Because I was too upset to eat. So I have no energy now to write long meaningful blog entries.
But Baibai reminds me - think of good things. And so I put this here. Check out Ad's blog entry about our first year anniversary celebrated on the 5th of February 2007. We had a great time together - I wanted to blog about this but he beat me to it, and I think he did a fantastic job. Lots of nice pictures! Of FOOD!
I will think about happy things.
Did you think that men are territorial creatures? Women are far worse.
Let me give you a little glimpse into the workings of female possessiveness. Maybe you'll be able to understand War and Beauty a little better.
One phenomenon I detest: the female friend hanger-on.
What's a hanger-on? A hanger-on is someone who doesn't know when to back off a relationship but still continues to hang on.
When we talk about hangers-on, we usually refer to a guy in particular. Hangers-on would then be certain female friends of his, or even ex-girlfriends who just don't seem to get the message.
My husband is a great guy, and great guys collect a lot of hangers-on.
Hanger-on Type 1: The Displaced Best Friend
Face it, when a guy gets attached, his girlfriend is (or should be) now his new best female friend. When Ad and I first got together, we both entered into a mutual understanding that we would be each other's best friend. Unfortunately, we had to get rid of the old best friend first. Or rather, I had to get rid of this problem. Girl No.1 had enjoyed a rather close relationship with Ad previously, and even though I was now in the picture, wished to continue this closeness. I still shudder when I remember what I had to deal with. "I don't want to share you tonight." Her words, not mine. No lar, it's not some indecent proposition, it's just her saying that she doesn't want to share him with me. But wait, wait - eh, he was never yours to begin with, he's mine! So you have nothing to share actually, right?
Hanger-on Type 2: The Pubescent Flirt
Come on, we've all been there. Puberty - brings with it raging hormones, boobs and above all, a sense of awareness (mistaken or otherwise) that you are powerful because you are sexy. Ahem. So Girl No.2 was this little mei-mei who I believe wasn't interested in Ad in that way but had great belief in her powers of "attraction". So she tried to ask him out for a movie when I wasn't around. Now, Ad and I have a rule. No movies or other date-like scenarios with other people from the opposite sex. So of course, he refused her. She continued her assault - claiming that she and I were friends and I wouldn't mind. Man! In the end, her little bubble got squashed. I wish I could say to her, "Seriously, what do you have to compete against me? You who can't even order a glass of wine legally??? Please. Don't make me laugh."
Hanger-on Type 3: The Faux Friend
True female friends will wish for Ad to be happy. And if being with me makes him happy, then true friends will encourage that. False female friends only have their own selfish agenda - preserve their friendship with the guy, even if it means making him unhappy. How to identify such a female friend? These are the ones who sow discord between the guy and girlfriend. Oh no, they'd never do it openly. Women are smarter than that. It will come in comments like, "I just don't want to see you get hurt." Read in between the lines: Your girlfriend will hurt you. I'm trying to protect you. That's instilling doubt. Very effective.
I believe there are many more types of hangers-on, but I think these three are enough to give any self-respecting girl a big headache. Of all, I think Type 3 is the worst. The most insidious. The most devious. And the most difficult to eradicate. Why? Type 2 is a piece of cake - the guy knows what's happening, feels mildly flattered, but also knows it's not serious. Type 1 is too grasping - in the initial period when a guy gets a new girlfriend, he's quite infatuated with the new girl, so he's quite immune to other women grasping for his attention. So it's rather easy to nip this in the bud. But Type 3... sigh. Won't let up even though you're old and married. Type 3 is difficult because you don't have the guy on your side. "She's my friend!" he'll say indignantly. Also, Type 3 has good camouflage - after all, she apparantly has his interests at heart. So how can you blame her, right?
I've been with Ad for four years now. Three years of dating, one year of marriage. You'd think I'd be free of these hangers-on. I wish. Type 3 still bugs me. And it's even worse, because her words no longer malign a girlfriend, they malign a wife. How is a girlfriend different from a wife? As a wife, I have certain privileges that girlfriends do not have, yet I also have responsibilities that girlfriends do not have. I promised to care for my husband - and that means making sure he's got white singlets to wear to work, his black socks are in his drawer when he needs them and his shirts are nice and clean. So, as a wife, I do all these things as a sign of my commitment to this marriage, and to put up with some idiot saying that she's afraid he'll get hurt is just too much to bear.
I never want to see you again.
I don't care how messed up your life is, don't mess around with mine.
I'm not like you, I never will be. Please, my dear, we're not even in the same league. You may learn nothing in a year, I will learn lots and learn it better besides.
Don't you dare drive a wedge in between us husband and wife. Don't you dare imply that I am not happy with him, don't you dare imply I'm not content to stay at home and bear his child, don't you dare imply that I will bring him hurt, don't you dare imply I will bring ruin to my marriage. I will see you ruined before I let you succeed.
My husband is mine, I am his ezer kenegdo and woe betide anyone who threatens mine and my own.
You have violated my territory, crossed over where you should not have trod, muddied that which you should not have touched, and for that, I condemn you.
I do not pity you, you do not deserve it.
Get out of my sight. I never want to see you again.
One mouse, many mice.
One louse, many lice.
One spouse, many spice.
Ok, that was corny.
All I have to say is this:
Spouses - never, ever, ever, ever take the side of your friend against your husband/wife unless you want to add spice to an already very hot concoction.
It's called sure die one.
P.S. This applies to dating couples also. Although maybe less spice.
Ok, this is a pet peeve of mine. I don't understand why so many people have the cannot-do-it mentality. Be patient with me as I try to explain what I mean.
A lot of people in Singapore have this "underachiever" mentality. Tell a student that she can get straight As and she goes, "Huh? Sure cannot." Of course lar, with that kind of mentality, definitely cannot. Where's that "I will try" kind of fighting spirit?
If you know me, you will know my Chinese sucks. When I speak, there's a funny chiang. But I got an A1 for "O" Levels and an A2 for "A" Levels. Do you want to know why? It's not because I'm brilliant (ahem!) but it's because I told myself I could do it and I die die will not admit defeat until I try. I know I sucked at Chinese. So I worked extra hard. If at first you don't succeed, try, try and try again! I remember the first year I stopped having Chinese tuition. I was in Primary 4. I was horrified when I got my test paper back. 60%. My friend, Lois (gosh, I still remember this so clearly) leaned over my shoulder and said, "Hey, what happened to you?" From that moment on, I just tried harder. In Secondary School, I memorised every single word in the Chinese textbook and its "sentence construction". I did this for all textbooks for the four years (Sec 1 to Sec 4: 8 textbooks in all) in preparation for the "O" Levels. At the end, my Chinese textbooks were falling apart. But I got my A1.
I could have given up. I could have said, "Oh, I suck at this. I can't do it. My parents couldn't master Chinese. I don't think I can either." But I didn't.
My Chinese is dismal now. But at least I can say I did it.
In Sec 2 I had a P.E. teacher cum Track and Field coach who asked me what my target was for my 3000m event. I told him, "One minute forty seconds per round." (Now, this was record-breaking timing then.) You know what he did? He laughed at me. Later on that year, I went on to break the National Track and Field C Division record for 3000m. And yes, I did achieve my one-minute-forty-second target.
You think I'm a natural runner? I tell you, I've got flat feet. Prolonged high impact sports cause injury to my ankles, then knees, then back because of my flat feet. When I run, people used to laugh and say that I sounded like I was in labour. But I did it.
I could go on to tell you more stories where I triumphed despite the dire predictions of others - my Geography teacher in Secondary 4, my Chemistry teacher in JC, my ex-boyfriend (with regards to riding a motorbike, ahem!)... but you get the point.
So I'm sure you understand why my blood boils when I hear people putting others (or themselves) down with the cannot-do-it mentality, whether intentionally or not.
"Everyone cannot do it, you think you can meh?" I'm not everyone, and everyone is not me. Thomas Edison only needed that one lightbulb out of thousands. Who knows? Maybe you are that one lightbulb!
"He's a scholar, I'm a farmer, I cannot do it." If you think you're a farmer, you'll always be a farmer, no matter how much you want to be a scholar.
"Wah, how to compare? That one genius material you know!" And you are not?
Look, I'm not into the whole new-age thingy where you psycho yourself to do things. That path only leads to tons of tone-deaf people on American Idol. That's self-delusion - a whole different problem. But that's not what I'm saying here. I believe that one's expectations should always be tempered with reality. However, the cannot-do-it mentality hinders people from achieving the best they can because they are stopped from trying.
So, in closing, I pose this to you - the overachiever is separated from the underachiever by his willingness to try.
Think about it.
Some people are just so stupid. I can tolerate ignorance but I cannot tolerate stupidity. Especially when you think you're so smart.
We were having dinner at Ad's classmate's place. It was basically a gathering for some of Ad's classmates from secondary school. Our hosts were a lovely couple with a nicely furnished home. What I loved most about their home was that they chose not to have a television set! It was a conscious decision that they had both made - they didn't want their time at home to be spent zombified in front of the TV. I thought it truly showed the depth of their commitment to each other - a commitment to make this marriage work.
Anyway, I digress. This blog entry is essentially a rant. So back to ranting mode.
One of the guests at tonight's dinner party was Miss High-and-Mighty. Everything went fine until we were having drinks in the living room after dinner. I was chatting with V about my pregnancy and how I had to give up a job offer from EDB when Miss HM butted in. Then began a whole slew of insulting, condescending and essentially stupid statements from her. Miss HM maintained that EDB was a "slave-driver" company. That's ok, a lot of people think so.
I found out I was pregnant the night before I was to sign the letter of offer from EDB. My point: when I went down to the EDB office that day, I still had a decision to make - whether or not to take the job.
Miss HM's opinion given very belligerently - "What's there to decide?"
Of course there's something to decide lah! Whether household income increases by $2k plus or remains status quo depends on my decision! Miss HM may be born with a silver spoon in her mouth, but other ordinary people have to think about money even though having a baby is important!
Miss HM continued in her know-it-all fashion - "I tell you, she'll be so upset when she goes there and slogs for a year and in the end comes out with nothing."
I'm getting really mad now. Urm, have you worked in EDB before? No? Then how would you know? And who do you think you are? You think you know so much about me? How dare you assume and proclaim to everyone that I'll come out with nothing? Sorry to disappoint you hor. I'm not usually the come-out-with-nothing type of person.
Miss HM's final blow - "Even if it's on her resume, so what?"
I really have nothing to say about this. Her stupidity has rendered me speechless.
And look - all the while she's speaking (except for the initial "What's there to decide?"), she's directing the conversation to my husband. Wonderful. Talking about me slogging and coming out with nothing, and my resume and she doesn't even address me!
I'm really pissed off. Really pissed off. I know that ultimately she's really just agreeing with my decision not to take up the offer. But in the course of her conversation - wait, no, that should be proclamation - she completely trampled over my feelings and my pride. Her whole demeanor was like talking to a child. I'm not a child! She thinks I shouldn't even have bothered to apply for EDB in the first place. But of course I knew the job would be tough! Everyone wants a cushy job that pays well, but who's so fortunate as to get that all the time? Of course I wanted a cushy job. But you don't always get what you want, and I'm not as naive to believe that you should bow out of a challenge just because a job is tough.
Can I conduct a mini-lesson in tact and EQ here?
1. Do not assume you know everything.
2. Do not assume you know everything about everyone.
3. Do not assume everyone wants to hear what you have to say.
4. Do not speak without listening.
5. (And for the truly stupid) Do not speak.
I measured my belly today. My waist has expanded to 30 inches! Yikes!
Ad has been joking that I can now wear his jeans. Not funny.
Despite my increasing size, it's peculiar - I haven't put on a single pound. My weighing machine still reads 48 kg every morning. I think there must be something wrong with the machine. How come I have a 30-inch waist with no weight gain?
Anyway, I've bought myself a Bella Band. It's really cool!
It looks sort of like a black tube, but it's worn on your belly. It's a great invention - enables preggie women to wear their pre-pregnancy jeans/pants unzipped! It's great for me - my butt still fits my jeans and pants but I just can't zip up, so the Bella Band goes over the zip and holds up my pants! Unzipped!
You can find out more about the Bella Band here.
I think it's amazing how women, when confronted with their bodies' changing needs during pregnancy, find their inspiration to invent great products - so simple, yet so effective! I mean, I paid close to $60 for this Bella Band. Cutthroat eh? But it's so darn useful (and effective!) I'm thinking of getting another one in pink. Heh. The inventors must be making loads of money. And then there was this other story in a magazine that I was reading the other day. Some woman, frustrated with how difficult it was to sleep with such a huge tummy, invented some "pregnancy pillow", and started a business producing and selling it.
I think I should invent something too. Hmm. Let's see.
I'd love to invent something for my aching legs (they get tired and achy more often these days - don't really know why) but there's already the iSqueeze.
Ah - it would great if there were something to stop me from feeling like peeing so many times at night - but well, if you gotta go, you'd betta go! Besides, there's already the adult diaper, it's just horrible to imagine myself wearing one.
And what I would really really like, is a remote control that can switch on (or off) any appliance in the house. So I don't have to bend/stretch/walk. However, I'm pretty sure that some of the rich and famous already have a similar device in their homes.
Sigh. I guess I'm not too good at the inventing thing. Good thing God invented the husband - to massage my aching legs (and back and arms and wherever else aches), and to switch stuff on/off or fetch things for me. Unfortunately, that still doesn't solve the peeing problem, but as I said - if you gotta go, you'd betta go!
