I've heard it said so many times: motherhood's all about making sacrifices.
Here's what I gave up -
Yup. Goodbye long hair. Hello baby!
Surreal and suspended. Yes, that's how I feel.
I looked at my husband yesterday, and he seemed like a stranger to me.
A call from an old classmate, and suddenly I was back in junior college.
Blow-drying my hair, it feels like I'm in Perth with my dearest sister again.
The house is empty and silent, and it takes me back to those lonely, stressful days when hunny was in Darwin.
I'm living here and now, why does my mind keep taking me back to places gone before?
Disconnected from reality.
I don't normally like to blog-rant, but this guy is so stupid, I can't help it.
Driver of Car SGH 1220 A has earned the title of World's Stupidest Driver.
We went to Kaki Bukit to pick up our pram and infant car seat today. On the way back in my dad's van (took the van today because all the stuff couldn't possibly fit in the car), vehicle number SGH 1220 A cut in front of us very suddenly and without any prior warning. Well, not too bad - we weren't that angry. Loads of lousy drivers do that all the time. As a warning, my dad then flashed him with the headlights. Now comes the stupid part: once in front of us, idiot driver jammed on the brakes (stopping in the middle of the road), trying to cause an accident, and as if that weren't enough, when we wanted to change lanes, idiot driver deliberately swerved in the same direction, clearly trying to prevent us from overtaking.
*deep breath* Here comes the rant..
How stupid can you be???
Firstly, you have a kid on your wife's (presumably) lap in the front passenger seat - that's not allowed. The law requires children to be strapped into a car seat for a reason, dum-dum! If we were nastier drivers, we'd cut in front of you and jam on our brakes and watch your kid fly out of your windscreen.
Secondly, you have an old woman in your back seat! If you want to pull this kind of stunt, make sure you don't cause too much collateral damage.
Thirdly, don't you think you shouldn't be drawing so much attention to yourself, since you're doing something illegal in the first place (kid not being in a car seat)?
Fourthly, have the brains to see what kind of car you're driving! If you're driving a tank-like Volvo, or even a large vehicle, then ok, maybe you can get away with this. But a puny Chevrolet? *rolls eyes*
Lastly, don't you know how stupid and uncool you look? And when we pulled up beside you and rolled down the windows, you idiotic coward, you didn't even dare to look in our direction! Your poor wife looked embarrassed. I would be too if I had a husband like you. Gutless worm.
I'm not trying to curse you or anything, but continue to drive like that, and I guarantee you, you won't live long on the road.
*deep breath* End of rant
The phrase "stupid idiot" is actually an exercise in redundancy, because an idiot is supposedly stupid already, but in this case, driver of car SGH 1220 A, you truly deserve to be called a stupid idiot.
I'm not well today.
I've got clammy hands, an achy throat and I just feel lethargic.
Think I worked too hard over the weekend. Can't do this anymore. I've just gotta slow down. Unfortunately, that's never something I learnt how to do very well.
I need a holiday.
I wish, I wish, how I wish I could just escape somewhere with my hunny - like the song goes, "somewhere only we know", and there's no one else. Stress-free, carefree.
Sigh. Hiatus. But as I explained to xb some time back, it's not so easy to do that. I guess I'll just have to settle for the next best thing - hibernate.
It's here - finally - the third trimester. Today marks the day I cross over into the final stretch of pregnancy. 12 more weeks to go!
I remember one particular visit to the gynae. She told me, in a moment of candor, "Pregnancy is very uncomfortable." Not quite your it's-such-a-blessing-to-bring-new-life-into-this-world kind of doctor, eh?
But you know something? She's absolutely right.
These days I get tired so easily. Not so much because my belly is getting heavier (which it is), but because I can't breathe. My diaphragm and lungs are getting so squashed, it's so difficult to draw a breath. Walk a bit and I start panting. And singing is difficult - I just don't have the breath control anymore.
I can't bend over to pick up something that's dropped on the floor; my belly gets in the way. Even crossing my legs is difficult!
I have to be very very careful when I sneeze. We don't want no accidents, now! (It's called stress incontinence, people.)
When I drink water, it tends to come back up.
My aircon is my best friend. Can't do without it. In fact, I wish I had another one in my bedroom. Better yet, I wish I were in Australia - a chilly winter sure beats this sweltering heat which stifles and suffocates me.
Want to walk beside me and hold my hand? Be careful you don't fly when my big ass collides into your side. Can't help it - I waddle.
You think that's bad? I'm not done. I haven't even begun to mention how the "Pregnancy Glow" is a myth concocted by aliens who wish to colonise our planet.
My beautician friend said she could tell straightaway I was carrying a girl. Why? Because I was more vain. Her opinion: Mothers carrying girls tend to care more about their appearances than mothers carrying boys. Hm. I am wearing more makeup these days, but that's only to compensate for all the uglyfying effects of pregnancy!
Let's see - my chest and boobs are riddled with blue veins. All over. I've gone up so many sizes, the only way my old bras are gonna fit me is if I fasten them around my thigh.
My arms are flabby.
My legs are flabby.
My ankles regularly "disappear" when I don't drink enough water.
My husband says I'm getting pigmentation on my body. I don't believe him.*denial*
But when all's said and done - I'm happy to be having this baby. I'm happy to have experienced what I've gone through these past months, and I'm excited to see my baby at the end of this journey. I was talking to a new mother whose baby girl is just 4 months old. She said, "It sounds crazy, but I actually miss my bump." Hm. I wonder if that'll be me sometime down the road. For now, I guess my schizophrenic prayers sum up my feelings the best - "Dear God, please let the baby come soon. No, no, not too soon, I mean let the baby come on time and be healthy and all... but dear God, please please let it be soon....."
Here's something a bit more cheerful after the afternoon's events at the police station. Ad and I headed down to Vivocity and decided to try the food at Corduroy Cafe which came highly recommended by a friend in the F&B industry.
The food is good! Pricey though.. piece of dessert cost us $7.95! I didn't get any pics of the food. Didn't intend to take any pics at all actually, because I was still feeling quite bleh. Only kind of perked up after the dessert (yes, it was that good).
You can see my tummy quite clearly in this pic.. almost 28 weeks! Yeh! 3 more months to go... 
I loved the decor of the place - check out this pillar covered with framed photos. If you look at each photo on its own, it's nothing more than a collection of quirky, artistic shots. Look at the photos as a whole, you'll realise that all the photos are kissy photos! Every shot has got a kiss - boy kissing girl, man kissing woman, father kissing baby, etc etc.. Made me feel kissy too! Too bad Ad didn't quite share the sentiment. Heh.
Conclusion? A nice place. Go there to pamper yourself with delicious dessert and nua on comfy sofas while admiring the decor and view. Foodwise, good but not worth the money. You can get equally good food elsewhere at less painful prices.
[I'm turning into quite the food critic, eh? *grin*]
I told myself I'd be calm today at the police station. I told myself I wouldn't get angry, that I'd keep my cool and volunteer information in a rational, non-emotional manner.
It went pretty well at first, I think. I didn't get to lose my temper because I wasn't really involved. Our Investigating Officer (IO) talked mainly to Ad while I sat some distance away on a sofa (too far away to hear what was going on). It was only towards the end that I decided to join them because Ad had some difficulty remembering certain details.
Turns out the IO had asked Ad to go down to the station today to answer some questions - basically, to get more information and to confirm/refute certain statements made by B.Ong. Stuff like, "What was XXX Company's role in the renovation?" and "Were you aware he was an undischarged bankrupt at the start?" (B.Ong apparantly told the IO that we were aware all along of his bankruptcy).
So, it was something like this - IO would ask a question, Ad would answer, IO would type down the question and answer on his laptop. Went like that for several questions. After the IO finished his questioning and typing, he printed out the document for Ad to read and sign - something like a sworn statement, I guess. Ad let me read it too - and when I got to the last question, all resolve to stay calm and non-emotional went out the window.
Let's see, the last question went something like, "Did you keep pestering B.Ong to conduct renovation works, knowing he was an undischarged bankrupt, in order to save costs..." Whaaat??!!! I think I lost it after I read the word "pestering".
The truth of the matter is that the idiot practically begged us to give him the renovation contract. Um, and somebody please explain to me how knowingly engaging a bankrupt to do renovation work will help us save money?
Do you see what I mean by him being an unrepentant liar? He's continually spouting lies. And we have to continually refute them as they come along.
It would be quite interesting to see what he's going to come up with next, if not for the fact that it's so darn tiring.
But I thank God for strength - not just for myself, but also for Ad. Ad's been the pillar in this whole affair. He's the one who keeps his cool and patience while dealing with all this crap - and I've been pleasantly surprised to find that my husband writes a mean letter! He's been busy shooting off email to the relevant parties - the police, the bankruptcy authorities - and I'm so impressed! His letters are clear and civil, yet incisive. It's reassuring to know that should this drag on till after I deliver, my man is more than capable of handling it all by himself.
