Tiffany & the Little Traitor

Baby's been crying quite a bit lately. He's somehow grown accustomed to the idea of being picked up and cradled. We can always tell from his fake-ish cries. :)

Usually, we pick him up. But in the mornings when we're busy getting ready for work, we just include him into our conversations - just to give him the assurance that we're around. Today was one such day.

"Honey, you know what?" Mae giggled like a schoolgirl. Somehow, I knew I was in trouble. She continued, "Since you still owe me my Birthday present, I thought you could get me something for my Birthday and Christmas."

Uh-oh. I waited for the axe to fall. And fall it did. "Something from Tiffany's!" she laughed. Awww maaaan!!!!

I could have married some old-fashioned girl from the village who would have loved me even if I gave her a wooden-beaded necklace. But no. I had to have me one of those modern women. Yes, the ones on their steady diet of Cosmo and Sex & The City. The ones who knew Tiffany. What is it with women and Tiffany's anyway?

In desperation, I turned to our little crying boy. "Jesse, should daddy buy mommy a Tiffany?" I asked. "If you think so, stop crying now."

And would you believe it, just like that the little traitor stopped crying. He just gurgled and cooed and smiled one of his sweetest little smiles. Immediately Mae stopped everything she was doing, picked him up and cradled him close to her. "Mommy loves you the most!" And he just cooed away as he basked in his mother's affection.

Turncoat! And to think I bathed him this morning. *sigh*

Father's Milk

It started off innocently enough. "Jesse tends to waste milk quite a bit," I told them. "He sleeps in the middle of a feed," I told them.

Bad mistake.

The audience was my Cell Group (church, not terrorism) members. Unfortunately for me, I was the lone thorn amongst this bunch of roses. And women, as we know, are an authority on the subject of motherhood.

"You shouldn't let it go to waste, James," Jo advised. She would know, being a mother of a spritely 2-year-old. "You could try waking him," said Bee, whose had 9 years experience as a mommy. "Mother's milk too precious to waste," Shamini added.

And that's when things got out of hand. Never mind that I was referring to formula milk. I had created a monster.

"You can drink it, you know." There. Someone said it. I think it was Elsie.

"Waitaminit," I protested. "Me?" Oh boy.

"It's good for you too," someone said. Oh boy! "You should," someone else added. I was cornered like a frightened animal. Across the room, I saw Mae out of the corner of my eye. Beavis was taking the heat and Butthead was grinning from ear to ear. Hahhahha!

The boy had better finish his milk. He better.

Air Balls

Mae says the weirdest things in the early mornings. Really.

Yesterday at 5:00am, Baby Jesse decides that it was a good time to take a big dump. He was wailing away and then suddenly, he went all quiet. So I quickly took off his diaper and laid him at the edge of the bed - his legs hanging off. Then I put the potty right under him, held his legs up and waited for Baby to bomb Nagasaki.

Right about then, the boy started smiling from ear to ear in what might rightfully be termed as a shit-eating grin. It was weird. "What's so funny, son?" I asked.

He didn't answer of course. And then mommy came in and set my mind at ease.

"He likes it," Mae said. And then she added, "Airing his balls and all."

Hahhahahha! Now I'm not sure if Mae is just weirdly funny or incredibly perceptive about the ways of the boys. *ahem*

Movie Date

Last weekend, we dumped Jesse off at my mother-in-law's. Then we went for a movie, just the two of us, Mae and me, like peas in a pod old times!

Ever since Baby came into our lives, things have changed. All of a sudden, we were sleeping earlier at nights. We stayed in a lot. We did housework religiously. Hehheh! There were times when we lived like pigs because we could handle it, but Jesse's still to young to live like a pig. All that bacteria and dust cannot be good for a baby.

And so we adapted.

For awhile, Baby threw us off balance and it took some time to find our footing. Now, we've pretty much got our act together. Now, for the first time ever, we can finally consider ourselves mature, responsible adults. *ahem* So as a reward, we went out for a movie.

That day, as the projectors rolled, a sense of familiarity crept back into our hearts. And for a fleeting moment, we fell in love all over again. Hahahahhahahaha!!! It was Dodgeball, for goodness sake! Nobody should feel romantic at a silly Ben Stiller movie. Still, it was nice to be able to go out on a date again. Just the two of us.

But by the time we got back to my in-law's, we had missed Baby so much. So much that we woke to little guy up in the middle of his sleep just to hear him gurgle and coo at us.

Sometimes I look at Jesse and wonder how we ever did without him. He just seems so right in his place at the center of our world.

Henpecked and Homemakin'

I never have time to blog these days. Usually, I do it after work but these days I go home immediately after work. I also used to blog late at nights but these days my nights are reserved for night feedings and midnight poops.

Mae has still not gone back to work yet so she takes care of Jesse throughout the day. And since we don't have a maid, its quite a task. So, I do my part.

Everyday at 7:30am, I bathe the kid before I go to work. I massage him with baby oil and also give him a change of clothes. Then I give him his breakfast feed and put him to bed. After that I wash his bottles and put them in the steamer. And then it's off to work! By the time Mae gets up, I would have eased her workload quite a bit.

I'm feeling like the henpecked hubby these days - minus the naggy wife, of course. Hahhah! Reminds me of a song by Sean Morey. (Click it if you have Shockwave, it's good!) But hey, it's all good. In one fell swoop, I get to tell two of my favourite people that I love them to bits. Some people say it with flowers. The stingy ones work their fingers to the bone. :) When the funds are low, homemakin' is the way to go.

For Mae: See honey, now you know why I never buy you anything nice. Hahhah! Talk is cheap but action is cheaper.

A Handful

a hands-on baby

Little Jesse's in his sixth week now. He's become quite aware of his hands and fingers.

Occassionally when I'm feeding him, I prop his tiny little hands up, uncurl his fingers and he can pretty much hold the bottle on his own. This is especially useful during night feeds. If he can hold up the bottle, I can get a few more minutes of sleep. Look ma, no hands! Hehhehheh!

We remove his mittens so that he can experiment with his extremities. Who knows, he might even start picking his nose soon. And before you know it, he'll be rolling the boogers into tiny little balls just like daddy's shown him.

The downside of not wearing mittens is that he tends to scratch himself. Despite the fact that his nails are pretty soft and that I keep them trim every week, it still manages to put a few scars on his face. Also, he tends to pull his own hair and poke his own eyes whenever he gets frustrated. This in turn, gets him frustrated AND agitated.

*sigh* Babies are dumb. I guess God didn't invent DHA for nothing.

Puke

Tonight Jesse's a little fussy. Mae had started feeding him at about 10:30pm and after awhile, he got frustrated. We usually just continue the feed with a little formula and he'll be all fine and dandy. But not tonight.

He was agitated and nothing was working. Not the bottle. Not a change of diapers. Not the backrubs which he loves so much. Not even daddy's finest Elvis impersonations. So, I tell Mae to get the secret weapon - Woodward's Gripe Water!

I had gotten less than half a teaspoon in when he stopped crying and started making gurgling sounds. Then suddenly, the kid pukes out a whole milk-storm! *Blueekkkkkk* And a whole ounce of all-natural Baby Jesse Yoghurt spilt out of his mouth all over the palm of my hand. Vile.

Mae and I got into a frenzy. We were frantically scrambling for towels, tissues and composure. "Thar she blows!" He unloads another explosive puke. Strangely, through it all, the kid was all calm. So calm, it's almost creepy.

After that little episode, he seemed okay once again. In fact, after that little episode, Jesse ate a little bit more and then fell asleep peacefully. Must have found relief after unleashing the fury in his tummy. We were a little concerned but according to what we read at BabyCenter.com, it doesn't look like its anything serious.

But damn, the drama of it all! *sigh*

Blogs, And The Bleeding Bloggers Who Blog Them

Ever since Mae stumbled upon this site, she had developed a taste for blogs. In fact, every time she gets to a PC with an internet connection, she'll head straight for her favourite blog.

"Honey, did you read my blog today?" I'd ask. She would usually, casually reply, "Er... not just yet, but you won't believe what's on Jeff Ooi today!" Yes, I have been upstaged by Jeff Ooi's Screenshots. Damn you Jeff Ooi, Damn you! Hehhehh!

"But, his site is like a newspaper," she'd explain, sounding every bit like a bad woman weaseling her way out of being caught with her pants down. And suddenly, it's my fault that she reads Screenshots. "You never buy papers anymore."

Fact is, blogs like Jeff Ooi's Screenshots grow on you. Like a fungus. Hehheh! But seriously, guys like him get a high readership simply because he represents the every man - the little guy against the injustice of the world. He's like Batman without the tights. Besides, he's good reading, dishing out the juiciest stories that would otherwise go unheard. So yes, Mae is right. Screenshots is better than any newspaper in town. And he didn't even need a compact version. *ahem*

Unfortunately, like any fungus infection, someone's bound to scratch.

The media is really playing this up. I don't know about you, but phrases like "trumped-up charges", "sexed-up dossier" and "witchhunt" come to mind. As a blogger, I'm concerned. While my blog contains only the trivial happenings in my life, who's to say what kind of psycho (or saboteur) might leave an offending comment on this site? One moment, I'm out there at the forefront of technology with my cool, online journal and next thing you know, I'm at the back end of my holding cell fending off... erm... amorous cellmates. *sigh*

So much for Majulah IT Untuk Negara*, or whatever they're shouting over at MSC these days!

On the other hand, if Jeff Ooi gets shut down, perhaps Mae will start reading this blog again. Hmm... perhaps I ought to leave a seditious comment on his blog and give the poor guy a little more heat. As preposterous and stupid as it sounds, apparently it works.

* develop IT for the nation - or something like that!

Brain Food

That's what the ads say. You want a smarter baby, give him a milk powder formula with DHA.

On top of mother's milk, we had been feeding Jesse with formula. According to the midwives at the hospital, breastfed kids don't actually need any supplementary feeding. But our son is one greedy little guy. When he eats, he eats with a vengeance!

"Enfalac A+ is the way to go," a relative advised. "It's got DHA and its as close to mother's milk as a formula can get." But it was twice the price on any normal milk.

Last week, during a particularly difficult breastfeeding session, instead of latching on to Mae, Jesse latched on to his own hand. The kid goes crazy whenever he's hungry, I tell you! And so he started sucking vigorously on his own fingers while his evil mother watched with amusement. The poor kid got so frustrated he was bawling his eyes out.

That's when Mae and I decided that Baby would eat Enfalac A+. We have a dopey kid on our hands and he'll be needing all the DHA he can get. So we bought him a small can just to try out. Unfortunately, he didn't take to it too well. For one, he seemed to hate it. And secondly, he's regurgitated a lot. And his stools were a little too weird for our liking. In the end, we switched formula again.

He's taking Snow Brand now. All the DHA he's gonna get will have to come out of Mae. Fortunately, mother's milk is the best source for DHA, and everything else a kid needs. Hopefully he can make the most of it. :)

FOR JESSE: Son, we tried our best. Hopefully by the time you read this, you can actually read without any help. And by the way, this post was mommy's idea. If you ever see a shrink, don't forget to mention that.Hehheh!

Cheerleaders of Shit

Yes, it has finally come down to this. These days, Mae and I are officially Cheerleaders of Shit.

We've gotten quite adept at being parents. Considering Jesse is only 5-weeks old, we've pretty much got his major signals down to pat. That fake-ish sounding cry means he wants to eat. The real cry complete with tears means he wants to eat NOW! But when he does that hysterical-kick-and-scream-complete-with-tears-and-quivering-lips cry, that means he's gonna poop.

We'll rush him to his changing pad, remove his diapers and wait. And that's when we'll do our grunts and groans to egg him on. "Nngggggghh! Come on boy. Do it! Do it!" Both of us, in unison. Like cheerleaders. Hahhahha!

Here's the thing: Just when he's about to go, he's all quite and cooperative. That, my friends, is the calm before the storm. If you ever underestimate that, you'll get baby poo all over the place. We have learnt this the hard way.

I used to think that I could never do this icky thing - changing diapers and wiping shit. But it comes so naturally now. I guess this is what love is all about. Yup, that right. True love is wiping shit. :)

We tell Jesse, "Son, one day when your parents are old and incontinent, and wearing Depends, you better return the favour." He had better.

Oh, by the way, for all of you who ever wondered why some confinement ladies prefer formula to mother's milk here it is: Formula babies shit only once a day while kids on mother's milk poop a lot. And more poop means more work. So there. Do the math.