Mindy Stole The Cookie

"Very Truly I Tell You"

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Sat, 03 Oct 2020 10:47:00 +0000

As I was reading John 8:12-59, I couldn't help but imagine a certain caricature of Jesus that his disbelieving audience must have had. The words "arrogant" and "delusional" come to mind.

"You are not yet fifty years old," they said to him, "and you have seen Abraham!"

"Very truly I tell you," Jesus answered, "before Abraham was born, I am!"

Even at the risk of being stoned, the truth continued to pour out from Jesus' mouth. It was almost like couldn't help himself. You would think that a more effective way to keep from being killed would be to keep one's mouth shut. He was certainly capable of being quiet when he wanted to be (Mark 15:3-5). His escape from the temple grounds indicated that he was not yet ready to die.

In fact, as I read from the beginning of Chapter 8, I found myself wondering why Jesus would bother to continue explaining himself so plainly to a crowd that was being hostile and unreceptive.

Were there some people in that crowd who were actually listening? Perhaps Jesus meant those words for them instead. Or perhaps some things simply needed to be said for the record. I am not entirely sure; these are simply speculations.

Simultaneously, I find myself in awe of the audacity and courage with which Jesus spoke the truth. From the perspective of the unbeliever, whatever Jesus said was extremely ridiculous. I am sure he knew that. And the only reason why that would not bother him one bit is that he knew the absolute truth. Not only did he know it-- he experienced and lived it.

What truths am I living and so closely identified with today, that it would pour forth from my mouth in spite of a murderous audience? How do I discern what is the right place and time to proclaim the truth? I find myself unable to say for certain, not because I do not know what is the right answer, but because I know I have not been put up to the ultimate test.

Perhaps I am not ready yet to answer. but I do pray that the Lord prepares me for the day I am tested by fire. It is only at that moment that the very truth that has been resting in my heart will be revealed.

Homeschooling

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Wed, 19 Aug 2020 23:58:00 +0000

Apart from the Bible, there have been a few other books I read that had a profound lifelong impact on me. No matter how many times I read them (and I like to reread books), they still give me a delicious sort of pleasure in learning something new or reminding me of an idea that I'd like to implement in my life.

One of those books happen to be Totto-Chan, by Tetsuko Kuroyanagi. I first read that book when I was 8 or 9. It was an instant hit as I found myself relating almost completely to the protagonist's experience of being misunderstood and labelled by all her teachers as "naughty". How I envied her happy position of being expelled and moved to a better, more fun school! I too wished at that point that I could also learn what I wanted when I wanted.

At that age, I would have been happy doing just a few things each day-- playing with other kids at a playground, exploring my neighborhood, reading book after book, and doing art. Out of those four, I was rarely afforded even one of those activities daily as my hours were mainly taken up by school and a boring existence at either my babysitter's or daycare. As a result, much of my childhood was spent feeling mentally unchallenged and physically restless.

Even before Covid-19, I had always been inclined towards homeschooling as a result of my unsatisfactory experiences with traditional schooling. Not being allowed to read ahead. Not being allowed to explore concepts with freedom. Not being allowed to freely express myself in speech/writing/attire. There were simply too many "nots" in my way. Naturally, I began homeschooling the kids with the desire to keep the doors of learning open for them. Yet I also wanted give them the option to attend a regular school should they ever want to someday.

The further I went in this homeschooling journey, the more I began to appreciate Mr. Kobayashi's approach to education in Totto-Chan. Perhaps there has been much romanticisation of his methods. I still found plenty to inspire and emulate in that book. Even tonight, as I am working on this year's homeschooling material, I find my mind wandering back to those railway cars filled with the sounds of children's voices.

I can't help but see how God has been preparing me in odd yet apt ways, for a life that I completely could not foresee. It helps to recognize His guiding hand even in the ways of failure, because it comforts me to know that He uses even those moments for the good of those who love Him. How wonderful it is to be able to live in that knowledge! I feel reassured that although my best will fall short, and so will my children, God will still use every bit of it for good. Nothing goes to waste.

2020 Updates

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Thu, 16 Jul 2020 07:57:00 +0000

Wow!

Has it really been THREE years since my last post??

Personal time has been a scarce resource, even now during the global COVID-19 pandemic when we are all locked down at home. That I could be sitting here blogging at 03:41 is a testament to my chronic insomnia and not the availability of excess personal time.

The last time we went to the gym was on February 18th. Even as the gym reopened three weeks ago, we have since cancelled our membership. I miss it terribly as it was one of the only times that I could have time to myself during the day.

Well, plenty has changed in the past three years.

For starters, I am now officially a mother of three children.

I know. It's crazy to think about.

B is 5, L is 3 and D is just a wee four months.

It's ironic that I feel like I haven't done much with my life since I've gotten married. Yet as I am typing this out, I realise that this is not true at all. In the past five years, I've moved houses seven whopping times, popped out three kids, and grew as a person (as marriage will inevitably force you to). Yet such is my insatiable nature that all of this still doesn't feel like any sort of accomplishment. I constantly wonder what else I could be doing, without appreciating the work that I have done so far. Part of me longs to be out in the working world or at least working on a business idea. The other part of me argues that I would be even more exhausted after doing that and wanting to spend quality time with my kids. I don't even have much of myself to give these days without needing to collapse into my bed or zone out to give my overactive brain some rest. Of course, there is also the third part of me that thinks that whatever I do is meaningless.

D has been such a ray of sunshine through these dark times. His vibrant smile and flirty eyes instantly bring me into a realm of puppydog love.

This love that I have for him is an odd mix of loathing for the physical labor as well as longing to soak in all that his babyhood has to offer-- sniffing his feet, hair and kissing his chubby cheeks.

If I could give myself some advice for the past two babies, I would have told myself to enjoy it as much as I could instead of always looking forward to the next stage. But of course, knowledge does not always mean action will follow... I'm only learning this now despite hearing similar advice from many other older parents because I have finally experienced it.

The World's Wisdom VS God's

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Fri, 17 Nov 2017 07:40:00 +0000

I've been craving some reading material recently and went online in an ardent search for brain food. Came across some really interesting titles in the science and math section. Economics. Each preview started out with so much promise. But I just couldn't bring myself to buy or finish any of them. Why?

Man has a billion and one problems. He also has a gadzillion probable solutions to all of them. He spends years, decades, centuries looking for data and answers, but he always falls short of perfection. Terribly short.

I couldn't help but compare a lot of what I was previewing to what is written in the Bible. Truly, His Word tells us all we need to know. I found that there is more wisdom in two sentences of the Bible than in an entire exploratory essay on behavioral economics. Reading all those books and essays in college and even now was like watching a toddler trying to piece together a puzzle in the dark.

I'm not trying to say that I'm wiser than all these people or anything. Nor am I wanting to throw down the entire point of education/science/progress. But God's Word does present a much clearer picture than any of these books could ever hope to come close to, and I couldn't help but feel that I was wasting my time reading what some of these "great minds of our generation" were philosophizing at the moment.

1 Corinthians 1:20 says "So where does this leave the philosophers, the scholars, and the world's brilliant debaters? God has made the wisdom of this world look foolish."

I felt foolish after stuffing my head with the world's wisdom. Not stupid, but foolish.

One Month Into The Move

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Wed, 20 Sep 2017 02:50:00 +0000

I should probably be sleeping, but my thoughts are keeping my tired body awake as usual. The move has been going very smoothly so far with plenty of answered prayers. If anything, the past four years of marriage and moving has truly solidified my belief that God ALWAYS provides EXACTLY what we need at exactly the RIGHT TIME. I wake up each day knowing that without Him, I cannot make a single decision nor get through the day.

A few things have been bothering me however.

First of all, this feeling that I need to get a new Bible won't go away. Yet I can't seem to get a clear answer on which version I should be getting. The one that I've used this whole time has some torn pieces and the publisher doesn't print the version anymore.

Secondly, moving back in with my mom has really put a strain back on our relationship. We do just fine when we are miles apart. But our polar-opposite personalities seem to throw us into conflicts every few minutes. I've been working on having self-control with what I say and how I behave when I am irked. However, it hasn't been easy and I find myself mentally and emotionally drained each day with no privacy and space to recharge. The good news is, we'll be moving in to our own place this week. Hopefully I can put that "privacy and space" to good use and start being a "good daughter" again.

Thirdly, I've been feeling (again, "feeling". All deez feelingz!) lonely in communities of people. This includes church. I just feel like I don't belong and that nobody understands. I don't feel like any group of people like or can accept the real genuine me at the moment. This feeling drives me to withdraw further. I suppose this is why I haven't been posting much on social media- because I feel like people just won't "get it'.

Is it me? Is this a temporary feeling? What are you trying to teach me here, Lord?

Ok as I typed that, this verse came to mind: "Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me." (John 15:4 ESV)

Hmm.....

Leaving Pru

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Wed, 02 Aug 2017 19:27:00 +0000

My resignation letter was handed in on the 1st of August. As I surrendered my work authorization card, I couldn't help but look back fondly on the past four years that I spent working as a financial consultant. The feelings of sadness and nostalgia took me by surprise.

All those days of doing roadshows and meeting up with people. The late nights spent studying for the exams. The synthetic leathery smell as I passed clients their new policy documents in a folder. The acquaintances made in Pru's bustling hallways and conference halls. The sense of accomplishment I felt after receiving my biggest paycheck ever. The sense of fulfilment I felt after completing a claim for a client. The profound sadness knowing that money cannot bring back a life or restore health.

I learnt so much about people, about myself, business, financial planning and about the world in general. I feel simultaneously older from the experience and yet younger by the passion this work has inspired in me.

Looking back, I now see that being a financial consultant wasn't just a job- it was a real privilege. I got a front row seat to the lives of people. I got to know them in a personal way that many others won't. I was paid fairly; according to my efforts. I had so much to gain in terms of knowledge and experience. I was making an impact.

Insurance agents have such a misunderstood role. I am glad that I was on that side of the fence once.

It has been a real privilege.

Thank you.

The Deepest Void

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Wed, 02 Aug 2017 18:57:00 +0000

Today was an unproductive day. I did a lot, but accomplished so little. It did not feel good- that unpleasant, almost-there, half-past-six feeling. Yet I let it build up until I did something I shouldn't have done. Out of frustration, out of emptiness, out of hurt, out of discontent.

I should have run to Him, but I felt so unmotivated. Unloved, almost, I think... Then I heard the Great Counsellor ask me:

"Why do you feel unloved?"

I looked within and realized that I had been feeling upset recently because of the way certain people perceived me. I felt misunderstood and disliked. I wanted to explain myself to them, to explain away the feelings of insecurity and hurt, but I couldn't. I was seeking approval from men and not God. I kept seeking and seeking, not realizing that I was drifting from His loving gaze.

I distracted myself with fun things, but the pain remained. I tried to fill the void with food, intellectual stimulation, friendships and even my marriage and kids, but they did nothing but tire me out.

"Why do these people exist? The ones who keep misunderstanding me? The haters who keep hating despite not really knowing?"

The moment I asked that question, I heard His gentle whisper again...

"If not for these people existing in your life, would you come back to me?"

Yes. Without these so-called "haters" constantly appearing and reappearing in my life, I might have been stuck with shallow satisfaction gained from human relationships. I would have been deceived into thinking that men's approval is attainable and enough. But of course, that isn't true. The truth is, I am in desperate need of Jesus. He is the only one who can fill the void in me. He is the only one whose opinion really matters at the end of the day. Not even my own opinion has any place in this world.

Dear Jesus, help me to come back to You each time, and quickly. Let me not stray from your rod and staff because I need Your comfort. You are the only true source of peace and contentment in this world. Help me to seek You and find satisfaction in You alone.

Meaningful Conversations

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Fri, 21 Jul 2017 06:40:00 +0000

After these past few weeks of constant meetups, I found myself craving deeper and more meaningful conversations. I get to have these every once in a while with J, but the problem is that he's not a big talker. It takes a lot of energy for me to tease out something more than a few sentences out of that mysterious mind of his.

When I say "deeper and more meaningful", I don't mean to downplay the importance of catching up. Sharing with each other the realities and going-ons in each other's life. But at some point, I do want to discuss topics less "anchoring" in nature. For example, "do you think mankind is really moving forwards or backwards?" or "is there are point to everything you're doing in life right now?"

I suppose to some people, such topics are neither deep nor meaningful. But they are to me, because these questions drive answers that lay the foundation for everything we do in life.

I want to know the essence of you- the whys behind what you do. The thought processes that simmer beneath the facade of how you live life or even what you wear.

But as the years grow and my social circles widen and recede, I've come to find that most people aren't good or even average conversationalists. And before I come across as being judgmental, the way I've found this out is mostly because of my own journey to become a better conversationalist.

I've since discovered that I am not a great listener. I let words fall on my ears, but I did not bother to clarify or mirror what people said before quickly forming conclusions in my mind, then responding to those (usually inaccurate) conclusions. Such listening habits led to many misunderstandings. And those misunderstandings are the basis of many a failed conversation.

In order for someone to properly reply to what I'm saying, they need to first understand exactly what I'm saying. That is a tall order for most of us today with short attention spans. I personally could take up to fifteen minutes to properly communicate a single point that I'm trying to get across. If someone came to a conclusion before I even reached the culmination of my point, it would be an opportunity for misinterpretation and unhappiness at being misunderstood on my part.

Also, the way in which we have conversations nowadays swing between two extremes- one, of not saying what you really want to say in order to avoid disagreement (because conflict avoidant types tend to feel that disagreement is the end of the world), thereby causing even more misunderstandings. The other extreme would be to speak too quickly and decisively without first ruminating over what you are saying.

I know very few people in my life with whom I can have a life-giving conversation with. The kind of conversation that you walk away from feeling all the better for it. It makes me sad that this is the case and I also wonder if I can be that kind of conversationalist with and for someone else.

The Joy Of Being Used

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Mon, 03 Jul 2017 07:21:00 +0000

At the end of a rather long week, we were finally in bed before midnight for once. But alas, our plans to sleep early were usurped by a most terrible noise from the other side of our bedroom walls-- Yelling, screaming, punching, a child crying, furniture being thrown around and broken...

J was already asleep (within seconds of his head hitting the pillow no less) but I could hear L stirring in reaction to the loud bangs and my heart was breaking at the realization that our neighbors were having a violent domestic.

I poked J awake and we quietly adjourned to the kitchen, feeling sorry, sad, appalled and afraid all at once. We looked into each other's faces and knew we needed to pray for that family. So we stood there and prayed. We asked God from the bottom of our hearts to send His spirit of Peace into that household, to calm them with His mighty hand. God knows, we've been down that road before and it's such a dark place to be.

God truly works in mysterious ways. I know that had J and I not been through this ourselves, we would not have the same level of empathy and compassion for our neighbors as we now do. I probably would have called the police and gotten mad at them for waking us and our baby up. But I did not; not because I didn't want to, but because I knew that calling the police may not help them much in the moment.

I knocked on their door as the fighting grew worse and we heard the lady shouting about having bloodied hands and her daughter crying. She came to the door and I quietly led her back to my house. I sat her on my couch and poured her a glass of water.

It's so ironic that just two weeks ago, I had made her acquaintance by shouting at her through the kitchen window: "Were you the one who threw all those old clothes into the rubbish chute, thereby jamming up the entire thing? I can't open my chute door!" Needless to say, she denied the allegation, haughtily exclaiming that even though she's a Chinese immigrant, her Singaporean husband had told her where the appropriate place was to throw bulk refuse.

I let all the bitterness in her voice wash away. Someone, or many people must have played the "China card" against her many times before.

But last night, we made a new connection and she told me that she appreciated our help. I went to bed that night rejoicing in all that wonderful and mysterious ways God worked to bring us together. After our conversation, I realized that I was in a great position to empathize with and listen to her. I also realized that our move to the US was delayed for a reason. It gave me such joy then to know that God is very active in our lives and using us in every possible imaginable way, at our own individual capacities. It felt wonderful to be used by the one God on high who sees all and knows all.

It's strange to note, but even though I slept at 2am, I felt more refreshed than ever.

A Very Human Week

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Thu, 15 Jun 2017 13:17:00 +0000

Just read a message from someone and feeling super salty because of the perceived false accusations, quick judgments and overall blindness in the whole situation. An immature self might have written a particularly stinging passive-aggressive Facebook status.

I knew he would see it and feel rather terrible about himself afterwards.

A few minutes later, I received a text from someone who just wasted two hours of my precious evening time. My fingers quickened to respond in spite, but a gentle voice stilled my movements:

"You who judge others, do you not call judgment upon yourself? You readily pinpoint negative traits in others; aren't you able to do so because you recognize them in yourself? RISE ABOVE LADY. You are a new creation in Me."

Ok. But I just feel so WRONGED all the time. When will justice prevail? I want them to know what they did and feel remorse! I'm done being the nice guy all the time when they don't even know I'm being overly nice.

"You hypocrite! If judgement came upon everyone today, would you not be similarly consumed? Is that the extent of your 'niceness'? What of my mercies to you every morning?"

Silence.

Be still.

Let my words be few. You are in heaven and I am on earth. Let my words be few.

_______________________________________________________

Someone asked me for a favor today and it required a small obligation on my part. Though I agreed, a part of me felt uneasy. I realized that I was feeling unhappy that I was now obligated to do something and that obligation took away some of my freedom. It took me by surprise because it was really a small matter and I might have asked the same favor of her. Yet there I was, internally rebelling (against what?) and suddenly brainstorming about all the things I could have been doing instead had I not been obligated.

That was the moment I realized how sinful my flesh is.

That rebellious flesh that only seeks my own will, my own gratification, my own desires.

This was the same rebellious spirit that dictated most of my stubborn, wilful, anti-authoritarian youth.

How can I ever break free from this body of death?!

"Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord. So you see how it is: In my mind I really want to obey God's law, but because of my sinful nature I am a slave to sin." (Romans 7:25 NLT)

Tiong Bahru & Moving

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Thu, 11 May 2017 05:34:00 +0000

I was just watching a traditional Chinese funeral procession go past my window. A few old folks came to their windows and took a peep too. These song lyrics came to mind:

Goodbye my friend it's hard to die
When all the birds are singing in the sky
Now that spring is in the air

Where I live now in Tiong Bahru presents an odd mix of people. There are two main groups living in the SIT estate. Either very old folks who still speak in dialect, or young rich expats. There are hardly any locals until you cross over to the newer HDBs along Boon Tiong Road.

Singapore as I knew it, as my father and my grandfather before me knew it no longer exists. The roads we used to know and the buildings now stand only in our memory. In the past, if you'd asked me what I missed about Singapore while overseas, I would have told you that I missed the people, the food and some places where I used to hang out.

Presently, my loved ones are scattered across the globe. All the places that I used to hang out (which is the whole of Singapore) have changed drastically. The food I used to love in my childhood too, either closed down or had its flavor changed. In short, there are very few things here that I will miss. And I am sure that in five years time, most of those things will disappear too in the usual pattern.

I am sad but I know this world is not my home. My grandparents and great-grandparents did not come to Singapore because they thought they'd get rich here. They fled here to escape religious and/or political persecution from abroad, as refugees. Singapore wasn't even a country in her own right then. And yet the Lord has blessed us with growing material comforts over the generations, culminating in mine.

If they had not made the courageous decision to move, life would be very different for us right now. I probably would not exist.

I am still not entirely sure why God would have us move again to another continent. It seems as though we are drifting further away from our countries of origin. But what does that matter in the end? It is not the starting point, but rather the finishing line that we look to.

"By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going. By faith he made his home in the promised land like a stranger in a foreign country; he lived in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God...... All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they left, they would have opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country- a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them." (Hebrews 11:8-10, 13-16)

Thoughts On Life & Moving

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Mon, 08 May 2017 07:30:00 +0000

Every single time I get an urge to write, I feel like creating a new blog. My hands start itching to pull out one of my many new and unused diaries. But I don't, because I know that after that first entry, the diary would likely lie unused for the next few years. I'd also forget the password to my new blog and never write another post.

So here I am, back again...

Life is moving at the speed of life. If I dwell on the past, it seems to move too quickly. Swing my gaze into the future and it seems to move at snail's pace. For this year, God's been really teaching me to live in the present. To savor each bite, to enjoy the rainy day at home, to look at the people I walk past daily. J told me that I always seem to rush from one place to another, only to melt in exhaustion at the end of the day. It makes everyday life seem so meaningless and miserable.

The thing is, I am always thinking about opportunities and possibilities. I never want a moment to go to waste, so I try to capitalise on every second I've got- only to end up wasting all of it because I never bothered to pause and enjoy the moment. Everyday is a GO day for me.

I've been thinking about why God wants us to move back to the States at this point of time. I enjoy my work and the community of family and friends that has been established here over the years. Logically, I know that it would be better for our family to migrate at this point so that we can raise our kids the way I believe I should. But still I long to know the deeper meaning. I want to know WHY this (God's) plan is so perfect?! From experience, I know God may reveal His higher purposes to me, yet this usually comes in hindsight. If I were to know the answer now, it would rob me of the chance to exercise my faith.

I am so grateful for the past six years spent here. I've met so many wonderful people and forged deeper friendships with both old and new acquaintances. I met my husband and had two children. I've changed so much as a person. I feel older and younger at the same time.

Part of me worries that J might pick a state to move to that I will dislike. Hmm... I guess that's why He wants me to learn contentment and enjoyment in the moment right now. Because if I can't savor where I'm at in life right now, wolfing bits of it down will eventually make me choke. Besides, J might make a choice, but I know it is God who directs our path......

30 Weeks Pregnant

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Wed, 27 Jul 2016 06:51:00 +0000

Counting backwards from my EDD (expected due date), I'm currently exactly 30 weeks pregnant. That means I've only got 10 weeks or 2.5 months to go...

Grateful thoughts often cross my mind these days. I'm thankful for this remaining time when it's just the three of us- Jerry, Brendan and I. While I'm sure baby no. 2 will bring much joy to our lives, I will certainly look back fondly on this past 1.5 years that Brendan has had his mommy and daddy all to himself. In due time, our attention will have to be split between two babes.

These days, I'm no longer able to give B all my energy. The constant backache, pelvic cramping and discomfort has pretty much left me all but partially bedridden. I used to be able to bring him downstairs to the playground, for a walk or to the pool every evening. Now, I usually stay put at home, which makes me sad because I know how much he enjoys being outdoors, just like his mommy. Jerry is having a hard time too because he now has to drive me everywhere or do things around the house after work. This usually means that he ends up sleeping very late at night and is tired when he gets up for work in the morning.

I feel guilty sometimes that I can't contribute more. I want to work more, but I can't even make it to the MRT station on my own, let alone the office. I want to get chores done, but my energy is limited to short bursts that later require an entire day of rest to make up for it. I want to spend more time playing with B and showing him the world, but even getting up from a chair is painful. But while I do feel like I could be doing more, Jerry often reminds me that I tend to overestimate my physical ability. I've been trying to listen to him and force myself to rest more these days instead of ignoring my symptoms.

For my first pregnancy, I took for granted how physically comfortable it was compared to this current one. I never understood how some pregnant women who didn't even have big tummies were acting like they were disabled. Sometimes I thought they were just exaggerating their condition for sympathy. I now understand that every pregnancy is so different for each woman. I don't even think my bump is that big right now, but my hobbling side-to-side gait would suggest otherwise. It's when I'm walking next to Jerry that I realize how slow I'm walking these days. I used to think that he was such a slow walker, but now I'm always pulling him back and asking him not to hurry ahead.

I also miss drinking wine because sleeping through the night is a luxury these days. I keep waking up due to either the baby kicking me hard, or getting too hot, or sharp pains from turning. Sometimes I forget about the pelvic pain mid-sleep and get up too quickly to go to the bathroom. The stabbing pain that ensues is the worst!

But for all the physical suffering that I'm going through, I'm truly grateful for the knowledge that this is only temporary. I can't imagine living with this sort of agony for the rest of my life like handicapped or really old people do. This has given me a whole new perspective on the kind of mental strength it takes for them to live their daily lives.

Comparing Between Pregnancies

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Thu, 21 Jul 2016 10:17:00 +0000

B's in his highchair now, snacking on his Happybaby kale and spinach puffs while I wait for his food to be done cooking. So now that I've got some time, I'll just write a quick post.

I'm currently 29 weeks pregnant with baby no. 2 and I've been comparing this with my first pregnancy. This is what I've noted:

In Utero Activity

#1: I did not feel any movement until about 18 weeks. The kicks only started to get really vigorous mostly after 30 weeks. Until the very end, I have never been woken up by his kicking.

#2: I first felt movement at 12 weeks. The frequency and intensity of kicks have been building up since about 18 weeks. Currently at 29 weeks, I sometimes get woken up by her shoving and kicking at night.

Physical Discomfort

#1: I was still able to comfortably sleep until about 32 weeks. No cramping, but I did have to deal with swollen feet and bloatedness in my third trimester.

#2: Extremely bad cramps in the pelvic and lower back area coupled with periodic cramps in the abdomen since about 24 weeks. On bad days, I can hardly walk. The penguin shuffle began around then too. However, I don't have to deal with bloatedness during this pregnancy, partly because I don't have to walk as often and I'm still breastfeeding.

Physical Ability

#1: I still felt fairly confident in skates all the way until around 26 weeks. I was able to walk easily until around 32 weeks. DDR, tennis and badminton were all doable until the very last day.

#2: I did not feel I was able to skate anymore around 20 weeks. I did play DDR around 2 weeks ago, but only up till level 13 and only one round (3 songs). Walking more than 30 minutes gives me intense cramping later on, so I try to limit sitting, standing or walking too long.

Cravings

#1: Craving all my usual foods. Did not feel nauseous except in the beginning and towards the end of the pregnancy. I did throw up involuntarily once around 30-32 weeks though.

#2: Craving all my usual foods while feeling thirsty and hungry constantly. I suspect this has much to do with breastfeeding. Was very nauseous at the beginning, lasting from 8-19 weeks. It went away for awhile, but I started feeling nauseous again around 23 weeks.

--------------------------------

So basically, pregnancy no. 2 has not been easy compared to the first! I don't usually like to mention this to people because it's annoying when I get comments like "oh no, that means she's gonna be trouble."

Yeah well... As if Brendan's the most perfect baby in the world! He most certainly is not.

These days, he's capable of screaming tantrums and displaying stubbornness. Especially when he's made up his mind to do something and he's not allowed to. I usually stay calm through his antics (lying limp so we cannot pick him up, throwing things, screaming and banging stuff, being defiant) and ignore him while waiting for a quiet window where I can redirect or comfort him. I don't ever give in though. If I said "no touching Daddy's computer", I really mean it! I will remove him repeatedly until he gets the message.

In any case, I am looking forward to the day my kids are old enough to enjoy each other's company. I've been prepping B by showing him how to gently stroke my tummy and be gentle with pets, children and soft toys. When I ask him "where's your baby sister?", he'll happily pat and stroke my tummy with a smile on his face. It's sweet!

L'Etoile Cafe & Public Holiday

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Thu, 07 Jul 2016 10:29:00 +0000

This week has been a fairly fun week. When I say "fun", I really mean that I've been able to go out more and do something else other than cook, clean and watch Brendan!

On Monday night, Jerry took me out on a date to L'Etoile Cafe. He knows I like surprises, so he attempted one by not telling me where we were going to eat. It was a nice break from the usual because he is usually so predictable in his habits.

Given that he doesn't usually frequent hipster places like these, I was also astonished that he would even know of its existence. Of course, I later found out that he only discovered this place through a previous company dinner. Haha!

It also made the night all the more enjoyable when we discovered that L'Etoile was having a 1-for-1 main course deal.

He ordered the oregano chicken for me but we switched plates with each other afterwards.

I ended up having the roast pork belly instead and it was delicious. The skin was crunchy on the outside and sinfully buttery on the inside from the fat. It definitely felt like four pieces wasn't enough!

The first half of the dinner was marred by cigarette smoke from the adjacent table, but the patrons left soon enough and we could breathe easily again. I had initially wanted to sit indoors, but the tables were already taken.

Wednesday was a public holiday and I got to go down to ION to eat my favorite Scotts beef noodles again. It's now $6 a bowl as compared to $4.50 a bowl from five years ago!

In the late afternoon, we brought Brendan downstairs for a swim at the pool. He's really into his basketball these days. I bought it from Daiso. They have a rather fun variety of toys for $2.

The weather was perfect and I didn't even have to use the shade on Brendan's float. We circled around the pool and even went in the jacuzzi together.

Public Transport In Singapore With Kids

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Thu, 23 Jun 2016 09:33:00 +0000

Before I became a parent, I've had the privilege of living in the States with a car. When I first moved to Singapore and could no longer afford to drive due to the high cost of car ownership, I gladly took to public transport since I happened to live within a 5 minute sheltered walk of an MRT station. That was when I was single... Sure, it bothered the impatient me sometimes that it would take over an hour to get from one end of the island to the other, but how could I have reason to complain when the transport system here doesn't smell like urine, is sufficiently air-conditioned and is fairly reliable compared to the NYC subway?

Things took a drastic left turn once I became pregnant. When I was single, I would sometimes sit in the handicapped seats but always give it up whenever I saw an elderly person get on the train. Sometimes I gave up my seat when I wasn't even in a handicap priority seat. However, I hardly ever found myself giving up seats to pregnant women. Why? It wasn't because I didn't want to. It was mainly because I couldn't identify them until they were much bigger.

I'm 5'11" and very skinny. When I was 6 months pregnant, you could hardly tell if I were wearing something baggy. But I remember the first time I really needed a seat and there was none. It was when I was just 3 months pregnant that nausea symptoms came over me like a dark cloud. I probably looked like a teenager with my backpack and track & field T-shirt on with a pair of exercise shorts. Desperately, I looked over to the handicapped seats. They were filled with other young people playing on their phones or "fake sleeping", as many Singaporean commuters are infamous for doing. I tried to suppress the feeling of vomit and my head started to go black. Oxygen wasn't reaching my brain. I found myself sliding down to the floor and squatting just in case. Thankfully, a seat became available at the next stop and somebody offered it to me instead of taking it for herself.

I found myself becoming increasingly resentful as the months rolled by and my tummy grew in size. I naively thought that as my physical body expanded, that my inward suffering would become more apparent to the world. People should become more sympathetic right?

Wrong. I was so wrong. Even with my stomach bulging and just a week to go before Brendan was born, I found myself standing for a full 45 minutes on the MRT. My feet were so swollen by the time I got to my destination that I couldn't walk out of the station until I had taken off my shoes and rested my legs. My shoulders were aching from carrying a small bag because I had to hold on to an upper handrail. But it wasn't the physical pain that hurt the most. It was those uncaring eyes that sat in front of me- the eyes of the young, healthy, working professionals that closed the moment they saw me standing over them. The eyes that looked down into their phones and nothing else as other old people and pregnant women came on board the same carriage. It was the most ironic sight I'd ever seen- seats filled with young men and aisles filled with the elderly and pregnant carrying heavy bags. I felt so heartbroken, I went home and cried. How could people be so unfeeling?

Occasionally, I encountered posts on Facebook that would shame people who did not give up priority seats to the needy. The comments left on those posts completed the sense of utter sorrow and hopelessness that I felt.

"Why don't you open your mouth and ask someone for a seat instead of complaining next time?"

"Can't afford a car? Don't have kids!"

"Take a taxi and stop whining!"

"Do you know that other people feel tired too? Some people have illnesses that you cannot see and they need a seat too!"

Over and over again. As I scrolled and read these sentiments, they pierced my heart like icy arrows. I realized that giving up seats to the needy was an ideal that only a minority shared. How did this society end up like this?

My first pregnancy was just the beginning of an endlessly terrible relationship with Singapore's public transport.

When it rained, I would have to take a cab. This could set me back at least $30-60 a day. I can't tell you how difficult it is to board a taxi without anybody helping you, a baby in one arm, having to fold a stroller and put it in the back and get all your belongings in the car... Quickly, I might add.

To take a bus, you're required to fold your stroller before boarding. Sounds simple enough, if you had four arms that is. One for the baby, one for the stroller, one for your things and one to hold on to the rail to keep you all from flying to the back of the bus. Bus drivers usually don't wait for you to get seated before driving off. It's dangerous, but they're on a schedule. I get it. For everyone else's safety, the stroller has to be folded nonetheless. Moms and babies can always put a bandaid on if they get hurt I suppose.

In the span of a year of taking buses with Brendan and having to fold and carry my stroller on board, I have only ever had ONE kind young man help me to carry it on board. Most other people just look at me struggling sadly or avert their eyes- as if you could look away from a suffering person and their suffering would just evaporate. Not a single bus operator has ever helped me to carry my stroller on board despite it being part of their job to do so. They routinely help wheelchair-bound people get on the bus though. I'm not sure why this is the prevalent practice.

Now that I'm about very obviously 5 months pregnant and traveling around with a 15 month old, you'd think that things could possibly get better. I'm sorry to say that it only gets worse. Just yesterday, a journey from Khatib to Newton saw me walking and pushing the stroller 15 minutes to the MRT station (I can't take the bus because of the stroller folding rule), stand 30 minutes on the train (no seats were offered) and walk another 15 minutes to my destination (again, no bus).

Let's just say I'm getting used to feeling faint in the heat of the sun these days. This is me, a former cross-country runner (my fastest 5k was run under 20 minutes) and I'm having fainting spells from bringing my toddler and pregnant self around this little tropical island. Do I count my blessings because I do not have pregnancy complications? What about those who do?

It's ironic that those who are the most willing to give up their seats are usually the elderly and pregnant women themselves. I say usually, because I have encountered parents who did not give up their seats to others as well- and I refer to the dads sitting next to their wife and kids.

Most days, after a trip on public transport, I come home feeling completely drained mentally and physically and it takes a full 24 hours for the accumulated swelling and cramping to go away. Also, being pregnant means frequent peeing. But being pregnant and taking public transport with a toddler means frequently having to hold your bowels.

I think what I wish for the most isn't physical rest, but just sympathy and an understanding. It is one thing to suffer physically, but it is another to be made to feel as if raising a family were some disease you brought upon yourself. Since when did children and mothers become such burdens to society? Why am I looked upon as a bad mother since I must struggle taking public transport daily instead of being able to afford an outrageously priced car?

I really don't think living in a first-world country definitely means comfort in every way. People talk about Singapore being one of the safest countries in the world but nobody sees the anxiety us females go through when we stand in a crowded bus or train surrounded by males. Who will stand and speak up for a molestation victim when none will even stand up for a pregnant woman?

What Singapore's public transport has given to me is something very valuable. I will never look at the swollen ankles of an old woman the same way again. When I see her shift her weight from one foot to the other, I can feel her pain in my body. When I watch other people turn a blind eye to a heavily pregnant woman and her eyes turn a watery pink, I understand how she feels. When I see people rush past the handicapped to take their places in the lifts, I sense their frustration. All of this gives me the strength to speak out for others and also patience to regard the plights of others.

These days, I've given up waiting around for my physical pain to end. I tell myself that I have to be strong for my kids and that strength cannot come from anyone else but God. Whenever I feel exhausted, a scene from the movie China Cry of a very pregnant Nora Lam always encourages me (see 1:28:43)

I shall trust my body to Him and not to people.

What Life Has Been

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Thu, 02 Jun 2016 04:36:00 +0000

Brendan is now 14 months and 3 weeks old. He used to take two 1.5-2hr naps in the day, but I decided to drop one nap a few days ago and consolidate them into one 3hr nap in the afternoon. So far, so good. My baby quickly is growing into a toddler...

He's currently in love with his blankets and Megabloks. If the blanket is within his reach, he will try to pull it out from between the slats of the crib and crawl with it everywhere. I really don't like when he does that because his blanket would be dusty later on. So the moment I spot him with his blanket outside the crib, I will take the blanket from him and put it back in an unreachable spot. Thankfully, he won't cry or protest when I do that. He knows when mommy means business!

The guitar is another source of fun for Brendan.

Sometimes, I leave it lying on the couch and he will crawl up to pat the strings or examine the various little parts of it.

He's been taking little steps on his own since he was 13.5 months old. But like his extremely cautious INTJ dad, he prefers to do everything the "safe", "proper" and "certain" way. Despite obviously being able to walk on his own, he's still taking his time to master his balance- almost as if he wants to be an expert in standing alone before venturing onto the next step. I love that I'm able to observe this part of his analytical personality so early on!

My second Mothers' Day was filled with flowers, smiles and cake. My dad actually came by HOB earlier and dropped off (our favorite) strawberry cheesecake from SSC without telling me. It was a really pleasant and delicious surprise!

I wished my mom were in town. I would have gotten her something to eat too... Haha

When the weather's nice, I'd take Brendan to the playground downstairs where he can meet other babies and practice his standing/walking. He usually spends his time standing in a corner observing the other children play or walking round the poles.

Everyday is a new day of discovery and mastery for him.

Sometimes I am (not so happily) surprised by his new abilities.

But mostly, I love the daily smiles, cuddles and kisses that I get from him :)

My Responsibility

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Wed, 27 Apr 2016 12:38:00 +0000

The breaks between each post on this blog is getting longer and longer. Time is a luxury for every mom with a baby and blogging just isn't a priority anymore. There are so many things that fight for my attention each day. Baby aside, there's the husband, work, chores, Facebook (guilty as charged) and devotions for the ladies' Bible study held at my place now weekly. I hardly even have the energy to go do the things I enjoy these days. Chinese calligraphy, skating, DDR, running, hanging out with friends... By the time 7pm rolls around and Brendan is in bed, all I have energy left for is to eat and finish up whatever I didn't get to do in the day.

Sometimes I get weepy and sick of the mom/work routine. Is this life even worth living when it's no fun at all? Why can't I have 100 hours in a day and unlimited energy to do the things that need to be done, and at the end of it, pursue my dreams and have tons of fun to top it all off?

Ironically, I have many reasons to be grateful. Brendan sleeps through from 7pm to 7.30am (thanks to the whole Babywise routine) and that gives me plenty of freedom in the night. Not only that, but he also takes consistent naps in the day, so you won't hear the usual "mommy complaints" from me like "I can't take a shower at all because my baby won't let me put him down!" or "I'm so exhausted from my baby because he won't play by himself and needs to feed constantly". I'm really really really grateful daily for all this. Truly, I am! I guess I'm just yearning for more... Is it greed?

Since Brendan was born, work has really taken a backseat too. Instead of prospecting heavily for clients, I only service my existing pool when needed. As a result, the amount of sales has dropped tremendously, much to the disappointment of my manager and doubtlessly, my overachieving dad (who I feel always has sky-high expectations for his children).

I often ruminate over whether my choice to spend the majority of my time on Brendan is a good one. Many women in Singapore in this day and age are expected to work alongside their husbands since the cost of living here is through the roof. Many are struggling just to feed one or two children, with both parents working. I know many of them may not look like it from the outside, but when you do the math, you'll realize that a lot of people are living on the edge with no retirement plans in place. I do receive judgmental silence/talk when it's revealed that Brendan is by my side almost 24/7. I bring him along with me to appointments if I can and even some meetings in the office. The usual question asked is, "why don't you put him in infant care or hire a babysitter or a maid so that you can work during the day instead of letting your sales suffer?". This is usually posed in a way that implies work and earning money is superior to actually looking after your child. I was even told once by a Singaporean aunty that my choice to watch Brendan on my own instead of putting him in infant care was going to turn him into a dependent softie of a man in the future. LOL! But my kid is the one who is able to sleep and play on his own right now as opposed to your super-clingy grandson- so where's the logic/evidence?

I don't bother to explain to anyone anymore why this is my choice. I simply realized that doing so would expose our differing fundamental beliefs instead of coming to a good conclusion. But for the sake of blogging, I will pen down my beliefs here.

I believe that children are not only a blessing, but also a responsibility from God. We are told in the Bible to "train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it" (Proverbs 22:6). In Proverbs 29:15, it also says "The rod and reproof give wisdom, but a child left to himself brings shame to his mother."

With these verses in the back of my mind, I always look back to my own experiences as a child. Being raised by a single working mom meant that I was always either in the care of a babysitter, relative or in daycare. In my teens and young adulthood, I've been a babysitter and fulltime caretaker myself. I came to the conclusion that nobody besides your own parents will ever put in as much care and effort in disciplining you. I grew up with inconsistent discipline and a general lack of parental guidance. People who knew me as a child and teenager can surely attest to the rebellious and impulsive behavior that in some part, resulted from that.

It did not matter that there was always an adult in the vicinity who made sure that I ate, bathed and did my homework on time. What I needed on top of having my physical needs being met, was to have my spiritual, mental and emotional self developed in a godly way that only parental authority can. Different caretakers meant different belief systems were imposed on me at various times of the day and years. I was punished for certain things in one place, but not another. But the worst pain of all, apart from inconsistency, was the lack of my parents' love. As a child, love simply meant to me that they were there. I used to look on in envy as other children had their moms or dads pick them up from school, drop them off at daycare, show up for performances and sports days in school. Mine were always working. I took it to mean that they didn't care. I know better now, but it doesn't undo the tremendous hurt that brought my young heart at the time.

Knowing all of this, how can I willingly give my child up to another person's care for the majority of the day? I know a grandparent's love can still never replace the soothing presence and consistent training of a parent. Our parents have earned the right to be grandparents now. Why should I ask them to discipline on my behalf when they yearn to spoil? I will not take that pleasure from them, nor do I expect them to be able to withhold it!

As the days pass, I grow in my conviction that this is the right thing to do. Earning money may be a priority for most, but I believe God gives us exactly what we need for each day. I do not need to worry about tomorrow. But what I do need to do is to take up this responsibility that He has given to me. It would be easy, and selfish in my situation to throw myself into work and let Brendan be in someone else's care during the day so I can enjoy life the way my unmarried self would have intended. But I do not feel that is my calling...

ENFP Growing Older (And Jaded)

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Wed, 20 Jan 2016 07:28:00 +0000

As I get older, I find myself being able to spontaneously trust people less and less easily. What that looks like is me holding my true opinions to myself (when I deem others unable to understand, agree with or empathize with what I would say). However, even if I withhold my true opinions, it doesn't mean that I advocate behaving the OPPOSITE of what I believe to be true.

As a result, if I don't trust you, I would just act at a very minimal level of polite. There will be no sharing of big ideas, personal beliefs, jokes (maybe just some socially awkward ones if I can't help myself), personal past experiences or most of all, advice. To avoid conflict, I may eventually just work at keeping a distance physically.

Sadly, these are all things that I dearly love to and wish to share with everyone. I feel sad when I have to withhold this natural part of me. Still, I know now that you shouldn't assume that everybody will treat what you hold precious with care. It's the same principle behind some moms not feeling comfortable with just handing their baby to any random stranger. My thought processes, feelings and beliefs are all very precious to me. I would never just throw them around now like I used to.

This also means that I am now much less vocal in a group setting where untrusted individuals are. I don't like feeling misinterpreted and then judged for the misinterpretation of what I am trying to say. Then again, I also REALLY dislike having to burn inside when I have something which I think is super important to share, but am unable to comfortably. I feel a lot less effective in discussions and debates now as a result. I just give up before it even starts because I feel that banter, if likely to end in me feeling unresolved conflict, is pointless.

I can't help but think that this is such a shame. Surely there are other individuals out there like me who feel stifled.

Brendan Turns 10 Months

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Mon, 18 Jan 2016 08:33:00 +0000

This past Saturday, Brendan turned 10 months old. I actually forgot that it was the 16th on that day and only realized it today. I haven't written about my dear baby for some time and I think now's a good time to catch up.

That afternoon, we attempted to get to the Treetop Walk via the Venus Drive entrance. I used to come here with Joel and Chloe so often that it's funny I haven't made it to the actual Treetop Walk once!

Jerry wore Brendan in the Ergobaby carrier for the entire 4.8km walk. I knew NS was good for something!

I was glad to see that there was an actual path with improvements (wooden boards over mud) now.

There were monkeys grazing near the entrance and one of them tried to get aggressive with me as I walked behind Jerry and Brendan. My mom instinct came out and I growled at it as I knew best to. Haha!

I felt very nostalgic walking along the stream, remembering the days when Joel and Chloe were still "little" and we waded and caught fish here together.

I don't know why I have a nice camera when all I bother to use ever since Brendan was born, is my iPhone 6. The photos are grainy at best. But it's so convenient!

This was a cool little cave formed by a fallen tree.

We had a nice walk but because we started out late, we didn't make it to the gate on time. I can't believe I didn't get to go on it YET AGAIN!

Got home, waited for Brendan to fall asleep at his usual 7pm, then whipped up a meal as fast as I could because we were starving.

On Sunday, Brendan got to play with his little god-cousins at House of Bread. I love that a little group of children is forming and blossoming in our Bible study.

Today, my baby is being kind of clingy.

I wonder if it has anything to do with being woken up rudely last night by loud noises. He just doesn't seem to want to be alone even though he's usually fine with that.

For The Future Generations

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Fri, 08 Jan 2016 03:43:00 +0000

We are living in a world of "information" now and in order to attain "success", it may seem imperative to become as knowledgeable as possible. However, knowledge, to me, is a leveller. And besides, Google.

What will make you stand out in time to come is not necessarily having the most knowledge. I propose three things (that unfortunately one may not be able to learn in a traditional school system):

1) Discernment- The ability to notice the fine-point details, the ability to judge something well or the ability to understand and comprehend something. (Yourdictionary.com)

Imagine having 100 dinner options to choose from and 5 vastly different and hungry friends to placate. Your life is on the line. Discernment will help you sieve through all the information to make the right decision.

2) Wisdom- The ability to know what is true or right, common sense or the collection of one's knowledge.

(Yourdictionary.com)

Why is knowing what is "true" or "right" important? Because by definition, what is "true" (faithful; loyal; constant) does not change. What is true today will be true tomorrow as it was yesterday. If you can use your discernment to sieve through the noise, it will also take wisdom to identify what is "good" and "beneficial" for the long-term.

3) Humility- the state or quality of being humble; absence of vanity or excessive pride.

(Yourdictionary.com)

I was going to write "good manners" at first, but then as I thought longer about this point, I decided that Humility was the best way to put it. You may be well-mannered on the outside, but only out of selfish pride or fear. Many people are perceptive. They can smell fake from across the galaxy. Therefore, I concluded that humility is the base ingredient for any genuine good social behavior anywhere in the world. In relation to the original point of this writing, true humility and subsequent good manners will make you stand out from the others who are equally knowledgeable, smart and wise. Given a choice between having a relationship with a sea urchin and a golden lab, most people would pick the golden lab.

How as a parent, can I equip my children with these qualities that I believe can help them better navigate and adapt to the world they were born into? What if I am not particularly discerning, wise or humble?

The first thing I would think to do, is to learn more about what constitutes discernment, wisdom or humble. I would surround myself with any person, book, experience, movie, etc that can teach me more about these values.

Secondly, practice makes perfect. What better way to learn than to put these values into practice as and when you can? The other benefit of this is that as I practice these values, my child can watch me make mistakes and recover. He can then learn from my mistakes instead of making them on his own.

Thirdly, I would encourage my child to exercise these values alongside myself. In every little action- even putting his toys away (at a young age), I could surely have him practice discernment (where to put what), wisdom (why to put what where) and humility/good manners (why to put what where so as to benefit others besides myself in the long run).

Some Thoughts

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Mon, 28 Dec 2015 14:37:00 +0000

So many things have happened in the past few months. A two month visit to the States, a move out of my in-laws' to our own rental apartment, as well as some other things going on in my mind which I will talk about later.

Brendan is currently 9.5 months old. He's able to pull himself up to standing position and take little steps while holding on to our hands. He's very observant and responsive, smiling when we talk to him, or angry when I am too tired to pick him up for the zillionth time. I spend my days looking forward to his nap time which I use to do housework or other miscellaneous things. Yet I also spend his nap times looking forward to seeing once again his bright round face peeking at me through the slats of his cot. It's a strange see-saw between tiredness and desire.

Today is my dad's birthday. I have been thinking a lot about my parents ever since I became a parent myself. What went through their minds as they once contemplated giving me up for adoption? What were their considerations back then as passionate young adults? Their hopes and dreams for themselves and for me... Did they have any for me? Or was the see-saw mostly slanted toward the side of weariness, a sense of hopelessness about their future? I try not to think too much about it because I now I know too much about my parents' personality (partially thanks to MBTI) to be positive about all these questions. I know the truth, but I don't really want to believe it.

I don't want to believe it, because I know that the moment I do, I will stop being able to dream big dreams for my children. I find that I am only able to dream big dreams for my children if I believe that my own dreams are attainable. But quite honestly, I have never given wings to any of my dreams. I have never believed that any of my grand visions could ever come true because deep inside, I know nobody ever believed in me. I suppose the outward passion I sometimes display comes from a deep-seated notion that if I strive hard enough, surely the stars will align and things will fall into place. But that has not been so and I am now twenty-six years wrong.

Still, I won't blame my parents or circumstances for what I take to be a rather bland and useless life. I'm a mother now. I feed my young and that is all. What of purpose? The Lord decides. It's depressing not to know while I live on, what in the world am I actually good at and should be doing. The Bible gives us the clichė answer: Love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your mind and all your soul.

Most days, I feel like a terrible Christian. I have a black eye from my last fight with Jerry and I'm not proud of it. He says we'll work on our temper. I've honestly lost my hope in him. I don't really have anything to show for my "christian life" these days other than my tendency to weep my eyes out to God, wailing about things and pleading for a way out of pain. Bible study? Going to church? Reading the Bible? Is this the recipe I am to follow for the rest of my life? Step one, step two, step three... Voilà! A perfectly baked cake. What if I don't want to be a cake?

I want to be a wild goat, standing on a beautiful mountain somewhere. Hopping from crag to crag, death below and life above. Hopping from crag to crag, light-footed and light-hearted.

Is this not for me?

Baby Mobile

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Fri, 15 May 2015 10:03:00 +0000

About a month before Brendan was born, I had an inkling to make him a baby mobile. Call it my nesting instincts if you will.

So out I went to buy some pieces of felt.

I googled for some patterns that I liked, traced them directly off the computer monitor and started cutting.

This fawn was the most labor intensive of the lot, but it's also my favorite :)

I wasn't sure at first how to mount the animals with whatever existing material that I had. I was too lazy to go hunting for sticks or wire.

Today, I finally decided to simply stick them with tape onto the ceiling.

I hung them over Brendan's diaper changing station.

Looks alright huh?

They are stuffed with my leftover cosmetic cotton balls.

I made sure to include almost all the colors of the rainbow. A purple heart was on the way, but then Brendan came first and I never got the time to finish up.

Babywise, Parker & Daily Life

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Thu, 14 May 2015 09:53:00 +0000

From day one, Brendan has been a Babywise baby.

For those who have never heard about the book by Gary Ezzo, it is basically a book on how to schedule your baby's day. In a nutshell, each feeding session is followed by a "waketime", before putting your baby down for a nap. According to the book, trying to follow their schedule will have most babies sleeping through the night by eight weeks of age.

Of course results will vary baby to baby since each one is an individual.

I remember telling C while I was pregnant that I was planning to have my baby sleep through the night by eight weeks of age. She told me to be realistic because hers was not able to sleep through the night till much later.

However, I'm very happy to say that Brendan has been a relatively easy baby. From the very first day till now, I've been concentrating on getting him to have a full feed each time as well as quality sleep. I am glad that my efforts have paid off because he is now (at seven weeks), capable of sleeping from 11pm till 5:30am each night.

Of course, some nights are exceptions, but I don't mind if he gets up an extra time in the middle of the night for a feeding because it is usually short (about 5-10 minutes) and probably due to a growth spurt.

And how do I know if he is going through a growth spurt? It's pretty obvious to me by now. There will be one or two days/nights of increased feeding sessions and fussiness. Thereafter, I will observe very sudden changes in either his physicality (gaining weight) or mental abilities (social smiling, increased awareness of his surroundings).

If you're wondering, yes, I am fully and totally breastfeeding him. And I do get letdowns in the middle of the night. Still, my milk supply has not diminished and Brendan is still getting fatter by the day!

Last night, we went to Parker Korean Restaurant along Upper Thomson Road so I could satisfy my irrational Korean food craving. I had never eaten there before, but it was one of the closer restaurants to us.

My breastfeeding apron is a lifesaver when we go out.

I should have taken a hint when we saw that the entire place was empty at dinnertime. The appetisers were soggy and my bibimbap was barely tolerable (didn't even bother to take a photo).

One thing positive about the place though- the staff are honest people. I had left my phone on the table as we were leaving, but they kept it for me until we returned to retrieve it.

One of my favorite sights these days is my dear baby's milk-drunk face. It's just the cutest thing in the world to me!

Brendan's diaper literally exploded today. I had never seen such an insane poo from him before.

In the afternoon, I like to take him downstairs for a stroll. He'll usually fall asleep by the end of it though.

7 Weeks

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Wed, 13 May 2015 04:17:00 +0000

My dear baby is growing so quickly... At 7 weeks, he is now making plenty of cooing sounds during waketimes and starting to lift his head higher when lying on his tummy.

He smiled at me quite a few times today. Oh it warms my heart so to see it!

Sometimes I wonder if I really do love him with the intense kind of love that moms supposedly have. You know, the kind that will make moms voluntarily jump into a fire to save their babies. Honestly, sometimes when he gets his saliva on my hand, I quickly try to wipe it off because I am kind of saliva phobic.

Still, I know I definitely love him enough to change his diaper in the morning with a smile even though I am dead tired. A few years ago, you could not persuade me to get out of bed without at least three swipes at the snooze button. Now, all I need is a faint whimper from the baby cot and I'm up!

Each time I look down on his sweet little face, I'm reminded of how innocent and helpless he is. If he needs anything, the most he could do is to cry until his throat dries out. He is totally and utterly dependent on me. What a scary thing it is to be a baby.

I visited Lizzie and baby Alexander earlier today. I had not seen them since a week before I delivered, which was when Alex was born. Six days later, out came Brendan.

It's really nice to have a friend who is going through the same lifestage as you, especially a Christian one. It's easy to listen to the world give you all sorts of advice, but nothing beats Christian fellowship- it's like chicken soup for the soul.

In the evening, I hung out at Ah Yee's, where we discovered that Brendan could probably play the piano with his toes in the future if he wanted to. Haha!

Anddddd that's it for the day. I put him down to sleep at about 10pm and spent the last two hours blogging, replying to emails and surfing Facebook.

Goodnight.