Tuesday, August 26, 2014

The Plans

Before the recent unfortunate event involving Baby Dylan took place, I had lots of big happy plans to look forward to until the end of 2014.

Some props I prepared for my maternity studio photo-shoot with baby #2.

For examples:
  • Press the pause button on my WAHM mode by end of this month (hello, last tri-semester!) and start shopping/preparing stuff for baby #2's arrival in two months' time. 
  • Do maternity/family studio photo-shoot (our booked appointment was supposedly two days ago).
  • Celebrate my birthday and Naomi's birthday in September.
  • Give birth to baby boy in end of October.
  • Let my parents get busy with the newborn during my confinement (truth is my parents had to abruptly come to Malaysia about a week ago to help me with my early confinement and cope with the loss of Dylan).
  • Celebrate my husband's birthday in November.
  • Spend Christmas 2014 with my two kids.

Who knew that God has different plan for me and all above plans with Dylan in the picture were shattered in one measly second?

It's like I almost finished writing a book with a happy ending for its last chapter but suddenly this book has gone missing. And now, I want to begin writing a new book again but can't even find a new book to write as yet.

"In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps."
Proverbs 16:9

Good thing is that I am still sane and doing fairly fine so far. So glad and thankful I have Naomi who cheers me up and keeps me occupied everyday. 

Thursday, August 21, 2014

6 Days

Hello, Dylan.

How are you doing today? I hope all is well with you.

It's been 6 days since you left. Exactly last week at this hour, Mommy was still dwelling with initial contraction pains in attempt to deliver you. It's amazing to see how fast time flies by, isn't it? Even when you, erm, in this case, Mommy was not having so much fun.

Anyway, we came to visit you this morning. Mommy and Daddy brought Grandma and Grandpa along. Mom and Dad thought it'd be nice for them to know where you're laid to rest before they go back to Indonesia next week. Daddy gave you some flowers too. I hope you don't mind yellow chrysanthemums.

Sorry, Mommy didn't have much to say to you this morning. It was a little bit hard for Mommy to hide or hold back tears when Mommy saw you again, even though it was such a brief visit.

Speaking of life, you don't worry much about us. Daddy is doing fine and pretty much back to his normal life. Mommy has not entirely moved on but is much, much better than last week in coping with everything. You see, once a lecturer told Mommy and Mommy's classmates that no matter what life throws you or pushes you down, one must bounce back and overcome adversity. Just like a rubber ball, not like an egg. Rubber ball bounces back when thrown or dropped while egg easily breaks when dropped. Mommy is doing that rubber ball thingy now and rest assured, all will be good again.

Okay then. Will say hi again some other time. Don't know what you've been up to but you take care and stay happy, son.


Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Days Later

It's Day 4 since Dylan went away.

Tears shed are not as much as Day 1 and Day 2 but heart ache level is still pretty much the same. It seems like there is a huge hole right in the centre of my heart.

By now, I have accepted the truth that my son is forever gone but still question God. Why He took him away from me, before he took his first breath in this world, is still beyond my comprehension. Anyhow, I am trying to trust and understand His plan. Time will tell.

I see Dylan every time I close my eyes and he, too, wakes me up from my sleep.

It pains me every time I realize that I am not pregnant anymore and there is no baby boy's arrival to look forward to in this coming October.

I miss my baby boy's kicks in my tummy. I miss caressing my pregnant belly. It is weird to see my tummy suddenly all flat again.

It feels so not normal not to have a newborn to take care of during my confinement because by right, every new mother should be crazy busy with her newborn in the first 1-2 months of post-partum, correct? But not me. No newborn cries wake me up every two hours or so. No newborn to cradle to. No newborn to breastfeed.

Dylan, what have you been up to these days?

Mommy misses you, love. It hurts. So bad.

Life is so unfair.

Sunday, August 17, 2014

Giving Birth to An Angel

What I write here is the most difficult blog post I have ever put together in my almost 6 years of blogging. The story itself is very excruciating for me to write and share, beyond drug-free labour pains, because it involves the loss of a child. An unborn child.

You read the above right.

My husband and I have unfortunately lost our much beloved and anticipated baby #2 at 30 weeks of gestation age on Friday morning. I don't know what big joke that life is throwing at us now, but it is not funny at all.

In the beginning, I was not willing to talk about this matter (at all) and deeply hesitated to share this part of my life in my blog because I wanted to keep this private affair as long as possible, even though sooner or later people will find out about this misfortune. Also, I don't intend to use the sob story involving my late baby son as a mean to drive my blog traffic. Nevertheless, I realized that I needed to pour the immense pain, devastation, sadness and grief that I am currently experiencing through writing (because it helps) and at the same time, locking all the memories of my second baby's arrival and demise for once and all. Perhaps Naomi could read this story too when she is older so she is aware of what happened to her little brother. Lastly, I sincerely hope that this piece would create awareness for other expecting parents about the importance of counting baby movements and going to the hospital right away the moment you feel something is wrong with your baby.


Tuesday, 12 Aug 2014

I sensed that baby #2 had not been moving much. Usually, throughout the day, my son would move around inside my tummy quite often. By afternoon, I still didn't worry much about this because the day before, baby #2 just showed me his latest milestone inside Mommy's womb: hiccuping. I was, in fact, tweeting about his first hiccups when he did that on Monday.

Moving on, I thought lying down or changing my position to left and right as I lied down on my bed would help me feel his fetal movements better but my boy was still pretty quiet. Then, after Naomi took her nap, I went to take my afternoon nap as well. When I woke up, I felt so strange because I still didn't feel my son had kicked me. I texted my husband about this.

As I waited for my husband to come home from work, I stimulated baby #2's movement by drinking cold milk, eating something light, using a torchlight directed to many spots in my tummy and pressing my tummy lightly with my fingers - hoping that my baby boy would react. Yet, I felt nothing much. In the evening, my husband asked me if baby #2 had moved so far and whether we should go to the hospital. I was not so sure because I thought maybe baby #2 was just sleeping or I was just not sensitive enough to feel his movements that day. Despite my BFF's burning advice, I failed to hit the ER right away that night.

As the clock ticked and showed past midnight, Naomi and my husband were already sleeping soundly. However, I had this very bad insomnia that literally kept me awake the whole night. I could not go to slumber-land, not due to I slept too much during the day but because I was so occupied trying to feel my baby's fetal movement and make my baby move. On top of that, I had extreme hungry pangs that I needed to feed myself with biscuits twice past midnight and at 4.30am, I had to wake my husband up to accompany me go to the kitchen downstairs and search for food.

Wednesday, 13 August 2014

When my husband woke up early for work that morning, I woke up too and called the hospital to see if I could bring forward my gynae's appointment because my next antenatal appointment with her was only going to be on Saturday (16 August 2014). I told the hospital staff what happened to my baby and she said she would check with my gynae's nurse first. 10 minutes later, the nurse rang and asked me to go to the hospital to get my queue number. When my husband and I arrived to the hospital, my queue number was already 13. While I thought I could get the priority to see my gynae earlier that morning, given my case, I was told to go home and come back to the hospital at 11.30am because I had to queue just like the other patients anyway. The three of us went home.

At about 12pm, the nurse finally called my name to see the gynae. I went inside to see her alone because my husband was busy chasing Naomi who ran around inside the hospital. I shared with my gynae about my worry and she directed me to do the ultrasound scan.

The moment she scanned my tummy and showed the image of baby #2, I knew something was amiss. I didn't really notice any movement of baby #2 in the screen in front of me but my gynae didn't say anything. Instead, she asked me, "Are you alone? Where is your husband?"

In a bit, my husband came in with Naomi. He was still jolly and looked forward to see his baby boy via the USG scan as usual.

Nonetheless, as he walked closer to the seat where he usually sits to watch the gynae scan my tummy, my gynae informed him, "I have a not so good news for you. Your baby has no heartbeat." My husband sat down. I was stunned and confused. My heart skipped a beat. Or maybe two or three. I could not process what I just heard for a long time.

My husband looked at me and the screen in disbelief while the gynae continued scanning my tummy. Then, I kept asking her: "Why? What happened? How Come?" She replied, "I am so sorry but your baby is gone. Looking from his head's shape, it looks like he had gone for more than 24 hours already." I said, "Then how? Is it because I came to the hospital late? Can you bring him back to life?"  The gynae convinced me that even if I came to the hospital the day before, my boy would likely had gone for a long time anyway. Even if doctor managed to take him out of my womb alive, there's huge chance that my son would not survive after birth or live a normal life either. There was nothing we could do.

From the ultrasound scan, the gynae could not detect anything wrong with my baby boy because all this while I had a problem-free pregnancy, my son was healthy and showed no sign of issues plus his umbilical cord didn't strangle his neck or anything like that. The gynae suspected that the culprit could be insufficient oxygen supply, green amniotic water or other infection. Basically, the gynae could only precisely find out the cause of the death after she delivered the baby.

After she's done with the scan, the gynae advised my husband and me to go home and notify our parents. She told me to spend more time with my husband to talk this through and eventually set the date to come back to the hospital again to deliver the baby. The instant she spoke about delivering the baby, I knew the unthinkable was really happening. My husband immediately told the gynae that we would come back to the hospital tomorrow morning to deliver the baby. Next, my gynae briefly told us the options we had for the baby delivery but she said she would elaborate more when she met us at the labor room the next day.

My husband began crying as soon as we waited to pay the hospital's bill. In the meantime, I was still composed but mostly in denial. When I paid the bill, the cashier seemed to recognize me and greeted, "Hi! Do you still remember me? We met at the cafeteria some time ago. How are you? How is your pregnancy? Are you still having nausea and all?" 

I responded her in a stuttering manner that I had just lost the baby and tears began rolling down my eyes. That was the first time I cried about my poor son and the miserable feeling sank in.


Shortly after we came home, I rang my parents in Indonesia and broke the news to them. I was crying and asked them if they could come to Malaysia soon. Too bad, the earliest ticket available for them to fly into Kuala Lumpur was Sunday night (17 August 2014), which means I will have to go through these difficult days without the presence of my parents here. The next person I informed about this was my BFF in Indonesia and my client because I still have liabilities with the company until the end of this month.

What happened later in the afternoon after we came home from the hospital is fuzzy to me right now. I can't remember whether I was crying my eyes out or mourning or sleeping but I supposed I already had panic attack about the baby delivery because I was not prepared at all to be induced or cut open in the next morning. My husband only communicated about this loss to his Mom few hours after we got home. I guess he was waiting for the right moment when he already organized his thoughts before breaking the most unexpected heart-breaking news to his parents.

Later that evening, I began packing my hospital bag and Naomi's bag as she would have to stay with her grandparents when my husband and I were away at the hospital. By this time, part of me already accepted that my baby boy was really already gone and worried more about the delivery. However, often times, I still could not believe that this loss was real. I felt like I was just dreaming a bad dream with my eyes wide opened.

My parents and mother-in-law strongly advised me to go for C-section to deliver the baby because for them, my safety was the utmost priority now and it looked rather pointless for me to go through such a long and tormenting vaginal birth to deliver a still born. My husband supported this idea as well.

I got so tired and slept early that night but woke up at around 5am because I had panic attack about the baby delivery again. In addition, I dreaded the potential of meeting my lifeless baby in person after I delivered him because I was mentally not ready for this event. No woman is ever ready for this.


Thursday, 14 August 2014

At about 8.50am, my husband and I arrived to MIL's house and dropped Naomi there. We arrived at the hospital at 9am something. After finding a car park and got off the car, I asked my husband if he'd like to take a photo of me pregnant with baby #2 for the last time. He shook his head and continued walking to the hospital's entrance. Once we registered my name, we headed to the labour room upstairs.

In the labour room, as we waited for my gynae to come because she was in the OT, I had panic attack for the third time for about 2 hours or so. I was still indecisive with my preferred method of still birth delivery; hence my baby delivery process could not be started. In the interim, the nurse in-charge briefed my husband and me about what was going to happen with our baby post delivery and what we should do with the remains. In principle, the Malaysian law requires hospitals to issue the baby remains (whose weight is already more than 500gr) back to the parents. The parents would then have to do a burial or cremation as per the parents' belief/religion and inform the government (JPN) about this to get the death certificate of the deceased baby. So much overwhelming information for our brains to digest and so much things to do in such short notice.

As much as I could not believe what's going on, I had to quickly organize a burial for my son soon after he was delivered. My husband and I deliberated over this issue and we agreed to do it in Christian way.

At about 10.45am, my gynae came to the labour room and I expressed to her that I was fearful with the imminent labour, way more fearful than my first giving birth experience. She then asked my husband and me to sit down; took a paper and a pen, and explained to us in depth about the differences and consequences of delivering a still born baby via C-section and natural birth.

She illuminated that while C-section would guarantee a faster and less painful labour process, it possesses higher bleeding risk for the mother afterwards. Recovering from C-section wound would take longer time for the mother too. Further, I would have to wait for at least 6 months to 1 year to be able to try conceiving a baby again to make sure that my uterus has recovered well from the cut. Should I give birth vaginally, provided if I recover well, I could begin trying to get pregnant again as soon as my confinement is over.

Considering the last factor, I followed my gynae's recommendation and went ahead with her plan: To induce my labour vaginally and if 8 hours later, there was no labour progress at all, she would go ahead with C-section. However, if there was progress with the labour after 8 hours, I could take epidural as soon as I reached 3cm dilation for vaginal delivery. Fair enough.

11am: The gynae checked if I already had any dilatation but I was 0 cm dilated. Soon, the gynae inserted a pill into my lady bits to induce labour. I was then asked to lie down for 30 minutes for the medicine to kick in. After that, I could go to toilet, eat, walk around, etc. and just wait for the signs of labour.

12pm: I told my husband that perhaps I should call the church's Reverend to arrange everything while my brain could think straight because once the painful labour started, I would not be able to do much with the arrangement. My husband asked me to make that initial call to the Reverend and I made that phone call outside the labour room. Again, stuttering and crying, I told the Reverend what happened to me and that I would like to rope in his assistance to give my little boy a proper send-off when he's born.

1pm: No sign of contraction nor bloody show as yet. I was still hopeful that God would give me a miracle - my boy would kick me hard and be born alive.

1.30pm: My husband left the hospital to buy lunch. Each time I went out of the labour room to go to the toilet or take a walk, I saw baby bed trolleys and wondered if my son would be put there later. I heard newborn cried from the other room too. In total, I heard 3 newborn cries that day. I hate to say this but those cries made my heart ached and envious.

2.30pm: I began to feel mild stomach tightening. My husband came back to the hospital with some pizzas and brought my laptop so we could watch a movie to kill the time while waiting for my contractions to come. My husband watched Gulliver's Travel but the movie sucks.

5pm: The contractions had officially started. They were not severely painful but quite painful and came at 10 minutes' intervals or so.

5.30pm: I asked my husband to go home, have his dinner first and check on Naomi at MIL's house.

6pm: My dinner was served and I managed to eat most of it while succumbing the sharp contraction pains.

8pm: My gynae came over to check on my labour progress. She said the induction was successful because I was 1 cm dilated already and no C-section required. She mentioned that my 1 cm progress was normal and expected to me to progress to another 1 cm in the next 8 hours and another 1 cm again in another 8 hours. This said, just to get to the 3cm opening, I would need to go through 3 x 8 hours of contraction pains and she predicted I could only get my epidural at around 10am the next morning. Only after I reached 3cm, the dilation would move very fast to be fully dilated. Sounds like never ending sufferings, right? Anyway, at this stage, she offered me to get pethidine shot in the buttock to drowse me should the contractions pain got unbearable before I reached 3cm dilation.

8.30pm: I was moved to the ward instead from the labour room so my husband could rest better as we waited for my labour progressed, which could take forever.

9pm: A nurse from the labour room came to check on me and advised me to call the labour room anytime I got the feeling to pass motion.

11pm: My husband asked me if I wanted to get the pethidine shot so I could sleep. I was very sleepy but restless because I kept feeling the contraction pains. I was still adamant not to take any painkiller and asked my husband to sleep first. The nurse from the labour room came again to check on my contractions and told me again if I got the urge to push, I would need to inform the labour room staff. Still no bloody show and thought that I was not even 2cm dilated at this point.

12am: I was very tired and sleepy but barely able to sleep because of the non-stop waves of contractions. I held on to the nurse bell for the past few minutes every time the contractions hit me but I had yet to press the red button. When one very painful contraction struck me, I pressed the red button and urgently requested the pethidine. I thought I really needed to rest for the night as my fight with the labour was not even half way yet. Tomorrow would be another day of big long battle for me.

Friday, 15 August 2014

12.10am: The pethidine shot was jabbed to my buttock and an anti-vomit shot was also given.

12.30am: I got pretty sleepy and every time I closed my eyes, I felt so good. However, the contractions pains were not reduced even a bit. In fact, they got stronger and lasted longer. My husband saw me moaning in pain. He asked me why I was not sleeping yet and how come the medicine didn't lessen the pain but seemed to make my pains worse.

1am: The contraction pains had gone to a whole different level and magnitude. I had the strong urge to pee and push. I pressed the red button again, screamed to the ward nurse who came over and told her that I had the feeling to poop. The nurse answered, "Oh, you want to pass motion?" and she opened the stupid toilet door. I was wrathful and screamed "NO! CALL THE LABOUR ROOM AND GET THE DOCTOR!". She frantically left my room and ran to the labour room.

1.10am: Few nurses wheeled me to the labour room and as much as I could remember, on my way to the labour room I was screaming in pain, like a crazy woman, begging for help.

1.30am: The nurse checked on my lady bits and mumbled to her colleague saying that my baby had reached my perineum. The VERY PAINFUL contractions came by almost every minute. They mostly felt like strong urge to pee and push but I was always told to breathe in and out. I was not allowed to push as the doctor was not there yet. I got really mad every time the nurse told me not to push yet and breathe instead. I shouted, "YOU! WHY YOU CANNOT HELP TAKE THE BABY OUT OF ME?" I think one nurse/midwife got pretty offended and replied, "I can take the baby out lah. But you wait for the doctor first."  Few minutes later, the gynae finally came and I began pushing. I felt gush of warm water coming out in between my legs. Although, I was in so much pain and could not wait for everything to be over, I was still hoping my baby boy would be breathing, crying and all when he came out.

1.40am: After few agonizing and hard pushes, my baby boy was born. Sadly, my baby boy was truly born asleep. My gynae and few nurses quickly examined his cause of death right after he was taken out from my womb. My son's umbilical cord formed a true knot (the gynae had to untie it manually later on) and twisted in one of his legs This very rare cord accident cut off my son's oxygen supply from the placenta. As a result, my water had turned green too. I was then cleaned up and no episiotomy was needed this time around.

1.50am: I was asked to lie in the labour room's bed for another 1 hour before being sent to the ward again. The nurse brought my baby boy outside to clean him.

2.00am: My husband came to the labour room and sat next to me. He was sobbing. Moving on, a nurse came over and told us that our son was already cleaned and if we'd like to meet him before he's sent to the freezer. She said we should tell her about this ASAP because they couldn't keep my son in the labour room's area for too long. I was exhausted from the labour and pretty high from the pethidine's effect. As much as I wanted to think straight about everything or even mourn, I could not. My husband and I cried while discussing whether we should see our son or not. Seemingly, making the decision to see our own deceased baby was not that simple and easy because we were emotionally not ready. So many upsetting events happened in fast pace in less than 3 x 24 hours.

2.10am: My husband told the nurse that we wanted to see the baby. The nurse brought our son over to the labour room. My husband saw him first. I told the nurse to just show me his face. We had a good look of him for few minutes but we didn't hold him in our arms, let alone kiss him (which I will eternally regret). The nurse asked if my husband would like to take a picture of him but my husband declined. My son looked just like his sister when she was a newborn but he inherited Daddy's nose. He's so handsome and had a head full of hair. My husband said, our boy was pretty hairy that he had hair on his legs too. My husband was still crying and voiced to me that instead of cremating the baby's remains as he originally planned, we would bury him later that day. I agreed.

2.30am: I was wheeled back to my ward so I could rest.

4.00am: I woke up from my brief night sleep because I noticed my husband who sat next to me had not been sleeping at all since I delivered our son few hours ago. He had been crying for hours for his son, alone. We both then settled our son's name: DYLAN. I thought I wanted to give our son a different name and keep Dylan for future use because I like that name so much. But then again, baby #2 is Dylan. Our sleeping angel is the one and only Dylan for us.


My husband and I woke up at around 8am to a rainy morning. When I opened my eyes, I still could not swallow the entire ordeals that I had gone through in the past couple of days. After my husband went to the toilet to freshen up, the first thing he did was to pick his phone up and make further arrangements of our son's burial with the undertaker and Reverend.

On Friday morning, the Reverend and his wife came over to the hospital to visit me. He did a short counselling to both my husband and me as well as briefing us about Dylan's burial ceremony that would take place once I got discharged from the hospital.

By 10am, I was brought to see my gynae for ultrasound scan and declared good to go home. Just before we checked out the hospital and packed our belongings in my ward, my husband decided to get baby Dylan's body from the undertaker and bring him to the room. My husband opened the carton box where the hospital kept our baby's cold body. My husband had a thorough look at his son once more and took a picture of him. I still refused to see him again because I was afraid I could not contain my sadness any longer. Dylan's image from the last night stuck in my head and I could not forget every bit of his face.

We left the hospital at 11am and went straight to the cemetery. Naomi was with my parents-in-law and they drove to the cemetery in a different car. On our way to the cemetery, I remember I told myself that this world is just one crazy world to live in. I could not believe that my husband and I were driving to the cemetery right after we left the hospital from delivering a baby. Instead of bringing Dylan home, we were sending him to a cemetery. Soon, we had to see our son sleeping in a tiny coffin instead of in his warm and cozy baby cot. Crushed is not even the correct word to describe our feelings.

At about 11.30am, we all arrived to the burial ground and the Reverend led the burial processing. The sun had risen and it was not raining any more. Dylan's burial ceremony was very solemn, straightforward, short and heart wrenching. My husband and I got to see Dylan again for one last time before he went to his final rest. And that marked our very last good-bye to our little angel.

Our loss, heaven's gain.

"Sleep well and sweet dream, Dylan, my irreplaceable son. 
You're the most handsome little chap Mommy had ever seen.
Mom and Dad can't take care of you now but we will when we see you again. 
Meanwhile, be a good boy up there. 
You are more than safe in God's arms.
No day is spent without missing you.
Much love, hugs, cuddles and kisses from Mom and Dad."

P/S: To friends and family who happened to read this post. While I am very much grateful for your concern on Baby Dylan's passing, I would really appreciate if you could refrain from personally asking further clarification or more detailed story from us during this difficult time. We are not over with grieving yet and it still pains every single cell of us, every time we have to recall and recite the above story to those who don't know. Thank you for your understanding.

Friday, August 8, 2014

Those Adorable Cum Funny Moments

Although Naomi now often partakes the handful "Terrible Twos" rite of passage, she's also in the stage where she does lots of cute and funny acts, which mostly she imitates from the things she sees or notices around her every day. Again, monkey see, monkey do? Nevertheless, I have a feeling that these acts are going to be temporary - Meaning we only get to enjoy and laugh at them for a short period of time and once Naomi is exposed to or learns new stuff, she'd ditch these cute behaviours and move on to the new ones.

Followings are some of the loveable and boisterously amusing things (I think) that my toddler does these days. I'd like to document them here while some of them are still going on and I still remember them pretty well.


Every time Naomi hears the first part of "Follow the Leader" song that her Dad or I sing to her (because we don't remember the song's entire lyrics), she'd march her way down while putting any random thing similar to a stick such as tree branch, chopstick, bolster, plastic hand-held fan, etc. to her shoulder. I guess the scene and song from Peter Pan where the lost boys are singing this song and marching through the woods stuck on her real hard.

"Tee dum, tee dee. A teedle ee do tee day."

Honestly, once we (adults) sing that song, that song also stuck in our head for hours too.

"We're following the leader, the leader, the leader. We're following the leader, wherever he may go..."

Playing swords

At the beginning of the Peter Pan film, there's this scene where Michael and John Darling play the character of Captain Hook and Peter Pan and use fake swords during their nursery games.

"Papa, watch out!"

Well, these days, Naomi loves to challenge her parents, typically me, to play swords with her using chopsticks, tree branch, Daddy's old plastic gun toys or even her kiddie bricks and blocks that we form into two bulky swords. The latter one breaks easily tho' so we have to redo the 'lego' swords after just one or two hits.

My girl plays like little boys, eh?

Helping adults to wear sandals

A couple weekends ago, my husband was playing with Naomi at our front yard. When my husband decided that this 'outdoor' playtime was over, he invited Naomi to go inside the house as well. Naomi refused and took my husband's sandals (she knew which pairs) and placed them on my husband's feet. With this, Naomi hinted her Dad to wear his sandals before stepping out the house and to play with her again outside. Not long, she also brought my sandals over to me and put them on my feet so I could go outside too.

"Papa, wear your sandals first before you go out, OK!"

My husband and I always make her wear her sandals or shoes before leaving the house or playing in the garden so I guess Naomi has picked up this habit and makes us do this as well.

Making Mommy read books to her

Recently, Naomi only wants Mommy to read her kiddie books to her. When her father offers her to do so, she refused him and runs to me with a book to read. Not sure if this is due to the fact that on daily basis, I am the one who spends time to read books to her the most instead of her Daddy.

Excuse my messy hair and jaded face. It was bed time.

As I read, she'd get rid all the pillows behind me, stand behind my back and hug me from behind. Yep, she hugs me as I read to her. The hugging part is so diabetically sweet, right? I know.

Acting like a good host

Last weekend, Naomi's cousin came over and played with her at the neighbourhood's playground. Naomi has not seen this cousin of hers for many weeks and last weekend, she treated her like a real guest.

At the playground, Naomi took her cousin's water tumbler, opened it and made her cousin drank the water from it. Naomi did this just like how adults normally offer drinks to their guests when they visit our house but I must admit that Naomi's gesture for this occasion was a bit aggressive.

Last weekend: Naomi and her cousin.

Her cousin ran away many times because Naomi forced her to drink her water again and again. Wherever her cousin ran away, Naomi would chase her while carrying her cousin's water tumbler around and made her drink water again until her cousin screamed for Grandma's help.

Filling petrol

Nowadays, some of the big supermarkets/malls in Seremban provide kids trolley cars. When parents shop around the supermarket, the kid sits inside the car. Quite often, Naomi would want to sit in one of these kids trolley cars too when we do our groceries.

Naomi driving her 'car' in the supermarket. 
Picture was taken last year just for illustration.

Earlier this week, my husband and I were at one of the supermarkets nearby and Naomi wanted to sit in one of the kids trolley cars. For few minutes, we had no problem shopping our stuff and Naomi was sitting quietly inside her plastic 'car' as if she was driving a real car. However, when my husband stopped at an aisle to discuss the promo detergents with me before buying them, Naomi came out from her 'car'. I was frantic and questioned my husband why he didn't put the strap on Naomi when she was sitting inside this trolley because once Naomi gets her feet on the supermarket's ground, normally, we can't have peace in shopping groceries any more.

My husband replied, "Don't worry. She'd just walk to the back side of the car, talk to herself for a moment and go inside her 'car' again. She's filling her car's petrol now." I was like, "You sure? New pattern. Since when she fills petrol like this?"

True enough, Naomi really did 'filling the petrol' thingy. When we made few stops at the supermarket aisles, Naomi'd come out from her trolley car for a bit and pretend that she's filling petrol. Once done, she'd come inside her 'car' again and continue her journey with us.

Too bad, when she eventually got bored with this filling petrol activity, she'd roam around the supermarket like a free bird and made my husband ran around chasing her. Erm, told ya.

Playing and singing with the guitar

My husband loves playing guitar and singing at the same time. I guess Naomi regularly sees her Dad doing this hobby at home to the point that she loves playing randomly hitting Daddy's guitar's strings to produce really disturbing noises melody and at the same time, singing with her heart and soul some off-tune Tarzan song in her baby language.

The musical side of Naomi.

Yesterday afternoon, I heard Naomi was 'singing' her signature guitar song again. I found it weird because she was not holding her Dad's guitar as she sang the song. Turned out, she was playing with her alphabet blocks and found a block with violin sticker on it (V for Violin). She thought the violin picture in her ABC block equals to Daddy's guitar and held that particular block while simultaneously singing her off-key pop-rock song again. Naomi's song with the guitar is so hilarious that I usually I laugh my lungs out every time I hear Naomi sing her 'guitar' song like this.

Okay... I think that's about it for Naomi's most memorable funny moments for now. There should be more of these moments that we presently enjoy from her but I can't describe them one by one here right now. I'll continue next time.

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Naomi Comic Issue #8: Little Gymnast or Just Too Naughty?

It's been ages since I created Naomi's comic for the last time. I just didn't really have the materials to do so or rather, could not be bothered to turn some of her pictures into comic strips .

Anyway, I was home alone with Naomi last night because my husband decided to drown himself with work in the office until the wee hours. When I was relaxing and playing with my animated cutie patootie before bed time, suddenly Naomi showed me her new capability, not sure if this is worthy to be called as a milestone - but she was trying to do handstand on my bed.

Here's a little comic to illustrate the above:

Issue #8: I am so fit!

After I quickly snapped the above pictures, I made her stop doing her half-handstand stunt and all. And behave, please.

I had no idea where Naomi learned this handstand act from. I also often wonder how come she possesses the little gymnast/yogi's attributes such as strength and flexibility because I am obviously not and had never been so physically fit and flexible at all, possibly in my whole life. Have I ever mentioned that I was always a regular in achieving the poorest score for PE, especially the gym class, during my entire schooling years? In addition, thanks for being incredibly lazy when it comes to exercising, even squatting or getting up from squatting/sitting position nowadays is the ultimate muscle soreness for my pregnant self. With this, every time I see Naomi's exceptionally active behaviour and terrific stamina, I strongly believe that she must have been getting all her sporty and energetic genes from her Dad. The apple somehow doesn't fall far from the the tree, does it?

On another note, Naomi is sooooooooooo (unbearably) naughty, whiny, clingy and full of temper outbursts these days! Sometimes I could only pray to God to shower me with extra patience and energy to tame the "Terrible Twos", because they are certainly not superfluous for a pregnant woman like yours truly.