Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Friday, November 21, 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
I want to be supermom too, with having weird kids around me..
Brad Pitt recently revealed to Oprah that his 2-year-old daughter, Shiloh, has developed a small quirk - wanting to be called John instead of Shiloh!
“She only wants to be called John. John or Peter. So it’s a Peter Pan thing,” he says. “So we’ve got to call her John. ‘Shi, do you want …’ – ‘John. I’m John.’ And then I’ll say, ‘John, would you like some orange juice?’ And she goes, ‘No!’ So, you know, it’s just that kind of stuff that’s cute to parents, and it’s probably really obnoxious to other people.”
Brad also shared that juggling six kids requires careful planning and definitely seems to eliminate any hope of any quick outing,
“We don’t go to the mall. It’s like a half-an-hour just to get everyone buckled in and make sure they’ve got their snacks, and Z.Z. [Zahara, 3 1/2] has got a blanket and Shiloh’s got her silky,” he says.
Luckily, partner Angelina is “militant about it. She’s right on top of it. Thank God, because I’m always forgetting something.”
Brad also added that his kids are “the funniest people I’ve ever met. And you know it really tells you — it’s a great mirror for yourself. It really tells you a lot about yourself and who you are and how you react to things,” he goes on. “They make me better. They make me a better person as a father.”
The Oprah interview airs tomorrow, and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is out Christmas day. In addition to Shiloh and Zahara, Brad is dad to Maddox, 7, Pax, 5 this month, and 4-month-old twins Knox and Vivienne.
truthfully, i teringin sgt nak ade anak ramai..maybe 5 biological & the rest nak amil anak angkat(nak cari anak org susah, with or without parent)...and i want to breastfeed them all..
Friday, November 7, 2008
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Miya darling, read this and please be proud-Mama's breastfeeding guide (part 4)
After i started breastfeeding my own child, i realized the wondrous creation of got. how the heck did the milk get there..like suddenly its being produced in the alveoli(sounds like pasta name eh?) and WALLAH...it flow faster as the suckling child desires.
Yet there are still many misconception regarding the knowledge of breastfeeding. How something so natural can be so misunderstood?
So i decided to start a breastfeeding blog..actually its more of an online library of mine. collection infos regarding breastfeeding. Its something that I'm using as a quick ref for personal use and now i decided to share it with some friend on a breastfeeding forum. www.susuibu.com
Since i don't really have that much of $$, kachiiing or moooolah... to do charity. i just feel obligated to share my knowledge with other. with that i hope that i get Allah's blessing & miya will be proud of me.
http://boobiesmommies101.blogspot.com/
Monday, September 22, 2008
Miya darling, read this and please be proud-The First feeding (part 3)
The new mother waited anxiously in her hospital suite.
“Where’s my baby?” she asked the nurse. She just smiled.
A nurse came in with the baby and said “we’re going to help you feed the baby now”.
As the nurse placed the child to the mother’s breast, everything happens naturally. That little mouth quickly search for the mother’s nipple and had her first meal. It might sound bourgeois, but seriously no words can describe how a mother feels to be able to provide the best for her child during breastfeeding.
This is when the mother has a skin to skin contact with the child,
This is when they can hear each other’s heartbeat.
This is when both felt as if they are one again, just like how the baby was in her womb.
This is when both souls bonds.
“THIS IS REALLY WORTH IT!”
"When we trust the makers of baby formula more than we do our own ability to nourish our babies, we lose a chance to claim an aspect of our power as women. Thinking that baby formula is as good as breast milk is believing that thirty years of technology is superior to three million years of nature's evolution. Countless women have regained trust in their bodies through nursing their children, even if they weren't sure at first that they could do it. It is an act of female power, and I think of it as feminism in its purest form."
----- Christine Northrup M.D.
*to be continues-part 4: SUPERMOM in the making
Miya darling, read this and please be proud-The labour (part 2)
She woke up to a very uneasy feely at her bulging belly.
“Ah..Contraction. Damn you braxton hicks!” she said jokingly.
She went to the kitchen to get a glass of cold water and saw the sink filled with dirty dishes from lunch.
“Damn, why didn’t I did the cleaning before taking a nap..Ouch,…another braxton Hicks.” She sighed and did the cleaned the dirty pots and plates.
“Ah..another contraction. Oii..this is too close apart. Am I in labour?” she asked herself.
So she walked into the living room, sat down in front of the TV and start timing her contraction. She used the back of a used envelope to jot her contraction counts.
1st Contraction to 2nd Contraction- 5mins apart
2nd –3rd Contraction- 18mins apart
3rd – 4th Contraction-3mins apart
4th-5th Contraction- 11mins apart
“okie, I don’t think this is the real thing.” She relaxed a bit. Stretched her arms to loosen up a little bit and saw on her right 2 basket of clothes yet to be folded or ironed.
“Dang!”
She continued doing the contraction counts along while folding the clothes for about 2hours. When her hubby came into the living room and saw the long column of the “counts”, he asked “what’s with the numbers?”. She calmly explained the function of the contraction counts. He asked with a concerned tone “Should I be worried?”. She laughed and said she doesn’t know the answer to that.
Both were hungry. So they had coffee and biggu apru donuts while watching anime, and also at the same time the hubby did the contraction counts. Each contraction was 4-7mins apart with no consistencies for around 50mins. Then it reduced to 10-15mins gap. So they continued watching anime until 8+pm, when both were hungry and decided its time to go out to find a nice dinner. Again she kept saying “Risotto!”.
She went to the loo for before beginning their journey to hunt for dinner. That was when she discovered that she’s bleeding. She didn’t panic (she think). She came out from the bathroom with this huge smile, which look more like a grin, and said to the hubby “I THINK I’M IN LABOUR?” . His answer was “Err..WHAT?”
“Purse, checked! Hospital card, checked! Emergency bag, checked! Baby bag, checked! Pregnancy book for dummies, checked! Dinner? Erm..would u like to stop somewhere and “ta pau” dinner?” she said to her hubby.
“Errr..we see lah along the way.’ He replied.
She didn’t feel any pain until…the pain really came. She was waiting in the car while the hubby ta pau some kay eff shee.
It hurts? Yes it hurts until tears roll down. Long inhale, short exhale. Long inhale, many many short exhale. Suddenly the pain went away.
The hubby entered the car. She said “it hurts”.
10pm. There was no contraction..no painful contraction until they reach the labour room. The midwife that examine her told her to go back, since there was no contraction. But then to be sure, she decided to check for dilation.
“Oh mummy, your 6cm opened!” she exclaimed and continued “we’ll call your doctor now and lets prepare for labour. Daddy you go register her for admission”.
Chills running down her spine. Confused, scared and excited.
‘Sayang, why don’t you that the things in the car and have your dinner here while I prepare for labour.” She instructed her hubby and he did as told.
After she’s all prep for labour, the million dollar question pops from the mouth of the midwife, “Do you want any anesthetic mummy?” . She answered her question with another question “How’s the pain gonna be like?” and so she answered “whatever you feel now, the pain will increase more intense and maybe later have to feel the stitches while the doc sew you up. So whats its gonna be mummy?” Again she answered her with another question “what do you have?” the midwife answered “gas, normal jab and epidural. So mummy?”. Again she answered the question with another question “what? Is this some kind of a cocktail?” and with a smile “Epidural please”.
11+pm. As the epidural kick in, she felt at ease and realized she’s tired. The midwife told her to take a nap as later she will need a lot of energy to “push” and so she did as told while her hubby enjoys his fried chicken in front of the TV in the labour room.
As he’s about to finish his meal, the midwife suddenly grew alarmed and put in the oxygen mask on the mom-to-be. She woke her up and told her to take long deep breaths and said the baby’s heartbeat is dropping rapidly. The mom-to-be’s heartbeat increased rapidly. “God… please save my baby!” she prayed.
“Take deep breath mommy. Come on, take deep breath for your baby. Don’t worry mommy the doctor is on his way. Deep breath mommy. Daddy come here, were preparing for labour. We will just waiting for the doctor and we will need to do the “vacuum” to help the baby out faster”.
11.55pm the doctor entered the labour room, looking very serious. Greeted the hubby nothing more than a smile and said “hi”. With a calm voice, he instructed the midwifes to get ready for the big event.
One of the midwife now has transformed to a cheerleader while the other aid the doctor.
“Ok mommy. PUSH..PUSH HARDER..PUSH!
And so the midwife repeat such like over and over and over and over.
Suddenly the mom-to-be felt relieved. Felt empty.
“HUH?” she said.
Then she was. Her first born, the doctor placed the infant on her tummy.
A baby. Her baby! And all she could say.. “Huh, BUDOK! Huh, she got hair? She’s MINE!”
The new dad perform the Qamat at the newborn’s ear.
“THIS IS WORTH IT!”
*to be continued: part 3- Miya's 1st feeding
Miya darling, read this and please be proud-Pregnant mind heavier than pregnant mom (part 1)
The minute she found out that she have a “mini me” in her womb, her mind instantly grew heavily pregnant. Her 5 weeks pregnant mind carried the 1001 thoughts of a 9 months pregnant lady.
“This cannot be”, she thought. Such thought sound like a dread, yet she is happily smiling.
“This will ruin my plans of the next 3years”, she added, yet she just feel like jumping with joy.
“I’m not ready to be a mom”, she fretted, yet she is excited to tell the whole world that she is pregnant.
“This better be worth it”
* Her weight at 5 weeks pregnant-38kg (pretty much underweight, even for a petite woman)
That was only her few most common thoughts within her 6th week of pregnancy and that was also when the dreadful 1st trimester’s most awful morning sickness lurks in the body.
“Who was the smart@$$ named this thing as morning sickness, while the sickness lingers the whole day?” she said everything she holds her head over the toilet bowl to gag her guts out.
“This is worst than being bulimic and so I promise myself that if I ever have to deal with overweight problems, I won’t resort to bulimia”, she console herself.
“This better be worth it”
*Her weight at the end of 1st Trimester- 32kg (skins & bones, even the dog wont be interested)
Luckily, the Oby/Gyne specialist that is giving care for her is a very understanding and charming mature man. From the numbers of his “silver” collection on his head, he could be in his 50’s… or could he be younger, but the stress (of being a person that have to rush in the middle of the night to deliver babies) has turned its back on him?
Why she chooses him to be his Oby/Gyne? In her pregnant mind she thinks that men never really know how pregnancy and labour pain feels like and so they will be very very very sensitive over the complaints that pregnant ladies have to “shout out”.
Then 2nd trimester came. As expected and as written in the book “pregnancy for dummies”, the 2nd trimester is more of the honeymoon period for the ladies. She has the appetite of a hungry t-rex and she can eat like a one with not guilty consciences hanging over your head. She can take a nap at anytime of the day, without other people being judgmental. She can laugh or cry when she feels so without feeling crazy or fragile. She can shop at anytime she wants without worrying her husband complaining about the credit card bill. She even attends a professional exam held by the Charted Institute of Arbitration and passed with flying colours. She reads. She knits. She is cheery at most of the time. She has this glow. She cried happily when the baby gave its first kick.
“This is worth it!” she shouts.
*Her weight at the end of 2nd Trimester-44kg
3rd Trimester came. She bloats, yet she gloats. She farts with her whole heart. She sneeze and she pee. Her feet are swollen and most of the time it feels like its broken. So she frets as she dreads. She foregoes high-heeled shoes, she foregoes big bags, she foregoes make-ups… and so She foregoes fashion.
“Ah..None of my shoe fits.”
“Oppsie..i gotta poopsie..Oh no..it was just gas.”
“I think I need to pee again in the next 5mins. This is my 3rd pee session in 30mins”
“F@&k*&g traffic jam, I gotta pee!”
“My back hurts”
“Damn you Braxton Hicks!”
“I got sleeping problem, I have to wake up every hour to pee.”
“Okie, none of my pants fits. Can I wear sarung to work?”
“Oii anak, no kicking pls or else mama will pee in her pants again”
“My back hurts.. I can’t sleep”
“THIS BETTER BE WORTH IT!”
And the most famous line she repeats like a broken record....
“Are we there yet?”
On 36th weeks she keep on saying, “I feel like eating risotto”. The hubby asked “when and where?”. She asked “where can we find a real good risotto?” The hubby answered “I dunno I’ve never had risotto before.” This dialog repeated everyday until the 38th week.
*her weight-48kg (proudly looking at her hubby and said that’s the heaviest she have ever been)
She went for a final check up at 38th week on a Saturday morning and she declared to her Oby/Gyne, “I think we’re ready. Don’t you think so too?”. He smiled and said, “if nothing happens, come in on Monday night say 9pm, we’ll see what’s next.”
Happily she went home and had a nice dinner at Zenbon Zakura Kristal with her husband, parents, her favorite uncle and auntie. They ate, they laughed and they were all merry.
The next day she did her usual chores. Hoping to get most of the housework done before she goes into labour. “Laundry, checked. Kitchen, checked. Bathroom, checked. Guestroom, checked. Study room, checked. Floor….floor. I think I’ll rest for a while and do some knitting,” she told herself. They had lunch and after that she decided since it’s only around noon, maybe she can take an afternoon nap and do the floor later.
Its 4pm when she woke up asking herself “is that a braxton hicks or real labour?”
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
100th day
today is the 100th day since Miya came into my world.
the sun shine on her cute face and i when she smile, the whole world vanish, leaving just the two of us.
i wish to tell her the the sun is shining today just for her.
this corner of the earth smiles because she smiles to the world.
tomorrow i promise i shall write something meaningful, so that one day my daughter will be proud of it. i want her to say "my mama wrote that".
Monday, July 14, 2008
My Uncle, My Elvis
I’m at the office completing the report that Master Yoda assigned to me. The mp3s that keep me sane suddenly caused me to have temporary insanity. Elvis song was on.
quite as often as I could have. Little things I should have said and done, I just never took the time…you were always on my mind…. You were always on my mind”
He was like a father to me. The minute his heart stop, I wish my heart would stop too. But that is not the way for a Muslim to be thinking. Yet, I dare not kiss him goodbye. I dare not see his face. I dare not go to his burial. I simply dare not.....Maybe I'm just being selfish. I don't want to let go. So I don't need closure...I don't need to let go...
No...this is not right.This is not how I should continue my life.
· Did he know how much I love him?
· Did he know how much he meant to me?
I guess I'll get the answer when I meet him again. He'll be looking much more handsome than Elvis for sure.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Malaysian: the pull string society?
Find the little evil perpetrator and feed him to the hungry alligator.
Those politicians want it all;
Politics are all about profits,
the riches in your dreams raped by them...
Like what one Lebanese-born Armenian-American singer once sang;
Yes, we've been walking through these dead farms,
But WE don't mind,
I've been screaming through these dead lungs,
But no one up there hears...
We don’t need your hypocrisy, execute with democracy.