double H goals

What lofty goals and aspirations do we have for baby Day?

Parents are said to transfer their dreams to their kids, wanting them to be this or that and it's usually things they wanted to do themselves but never could.

To date (yes, that's the qualifier) the only thing we want for baby Day is this: Health and Happiness!

Maybe it's too little to want for him, but a lot of people don't have either.

If he could keep on laughing the way he is doing now, we would be content.

first girlfriend

Baby Day is seven months old and he's got an admirer.

A little girl who lives up the street, she's older than him - she's aged two.

This morning, the moment she woke up, she dragged her maid to our house while she was still dressed in her PJs because she wanted to see him.

When I carried baby Day out, she solemnly offered him her teddy bear. Her eyelashes were still wet with tears because her maid had initially told her NO, she could NOT go to look for the neighbour's baby.

She didn't look particularly thrilled to see baby Day but when I wanted to bring baby back into the house so I could put him to sleep, her eyes got bigger. Her lower lip trembled.

Before I knew it, the tears had started pooling in her eyes again.

What to do? I can't possibly put baby Day into HER bed.

I nicely told her, as sweetly as I could, that baby Day would come visit later. But when I turned around and closed the gate, she started bawling. Ooops! No two ways about it, I scurried back into the house to hide.

For a good five minutes, as her maid dragged her back to her house, her piercing wails reverberated along our street: "Daaaa-viiiid!!!! Sob... Daa-viiid!"

All this while, the sleepy subject of her unrequited affections was frowning in faint disapproval, wondering what the din was all about.

It's not the first time. She really seems to have a thing for him.

Baby Day's great grand-auntie thinks he's quite the charmer. I think she thinks he's a toy - which her mommy obviously can't buy.

killer global flu

It is a rare news article which catches my eye, kills my appetite and leaves me feeling mildly depressed for the rest of the day.

But today, I saw it.

The World Health Organisation predicts that a (overdue) world-wide influenza pandemic may strike anytime soon, leaving millions dead. Worse is how they think it will start from the bird flu outbreaks in Vietnam and Thailand - uncomfortably close to home.

I've never been one to stomach death threats. When Sars struck, I was panic-stricken amongst level-headed colleagues and voluntarily went on a self-imposed home quarantine, refusing to step into the office.

But when I read that story, over lunchtime, significance struck home as facing me, happily gurgling away, was baby Day (having a fairly luxurious lunch of cod fish porridge compared to my humble fried beehoon)

I literally dropped my spoon and stopped eating.

All I could think of was: How can I protect him?

My next thought: Should I have more kids if the world is headed for disaster?

All in all, it was a depressing afternoon. As I stared at baby Day I realized that if he were to even fall sick and fail to flash me his sunny gummy smile, chins and all, I would go bonkers.

And I would gladly change places with him, be sick instead.

Then MY mom would go bonkers.

I think I can fully understand what a mother's love is all about now.

hammock daddy

This photo makes me wish I were baby Day.

Daddy makes it a point to carry baby Day to bed every night, holding onto and occasionally squeezing him tight while giving me a gooey-eyed look. At these times, as I roll my eyes, I wonder who has the stronger maternal instinct.

At one point, baby could go to sleep on his own in the cot but all that was shot to pieces when his dad would pick him up - as he was sleeping - to rock him in his arms. Most people want their babes to sleep through the night but here my idiotic hubby was WAKING HIM UP.

With 5-star treatment from his daddy and his gong gong - who does the same in the day - is there any wonder I just can't seem to train baby Day to sleep on his own?

Anyhow, this text is really just an excuse to put up the pix. I really love it.

discovery

What does a baby see as he looks at the world?

Does he think the lady-pendulum swinging from the cuckoo clock is alive? Does he think there are tiny people hiding in the telephone who coo at him whenever he listens? Does he think everything in the world is a huge plate of food which he can put in his mouth anytime?

The other day I chucked Baby Day in the garden. He has felt grass under his feet but it is the first time in his 6 1/2 months of life that he was completely on his own on the prickly green turf.

For a while he was immobile, frowning, wondering why the carpet grass was prickly.

After a while it was all systems go. On his long journey across the garden, he picked up fallen leaves, banged the turf and ended it all by methodically plucking the heads off the tiny flowers.

It's time to watch that pincer grasp.

my son the vampire

It isn't surprising, I suppose, if the one constant in your entire life has been sucking on a daily basis.

But the whopper of a hicky which Baby Day left on his daddy's neck tonight was stupendous. The sort that you can catch sight of in the car rearview mirror while driving at night, and swivel round in horror like you saw a car crash.

The blooming purple flower on the neck was probably a quarter the size of his daddy's palm. Sure, dad tried to pull him away but baby leeched on or simply bobbed his head right back to the same spot.

Daddy was predictably upset. "Stupid boy!" he pouted as he looked in the mirror.

The next day Dad had to fend off all sorts of comments from colleagues about his rabid wife.

Frankly though, I never had the skill to leave a hicky. In that regard, Baby Day is far FAR superior.

the fab four

Baby Day has four fabulous grandparents. He is very lucky.

Because he is the sole grandchild (for the moment) all four literally smother him with love and affection.

Here is an account of the Fab Four:

* DADDY'S DAD



Everytime baby Day visits his Ye Ye on Saturdays, the old man liberally opens his mouth wide in a toothless grin that mirrors his grandson's.

The man who my husband claims only lifted his hand to smack his kids in the past opens his arms wide all the time to carry baby Day for hours. He leaps at every chance to cradle his "Sing Moon" - whether it be going out for coffee, a newspaper or just for a spin to see the cars.

So much so that everytime we leave on Saturday evening, baby Day smells different for he wears the unwashed earthy scent of his Ye Ye.

* DADDY'S MOM



Day's Nai Nai is similarly toothless but fawns over him in a different manner.

While continuing about her household chores for a good part of the day, Nai Nai makes sure she takes him out for a long walk that includes showing him off like a trophy to her neighbour friends.

She is particularly proud of the fact that he flipped on his tummy at 3 months, crawled at 6 months and is fully confident that he will walk at 9 months, like a genius baby she read about in the newspapers.

* MOMMY'S DAD



Day has a special bond with his Gong Gong, who miraculously went from zero (knowing nothing about parenting since he was busy working when his children were growing up) to hero.

The designated primary caregiver for Day's first three months since he was retired, Gong Gong frequently uses his common sense to try and imagine what would make the baby comfortable. That means carrying him under the buttock instead of pressing the baby's balls against his body, switching on the aircon at naptimes if it's a hot day and generally always saying: "Even an adult would like it this way!"

Now the one person who can make Day go to sleep in an instant by cooing, carrying and patting, Gong Gong even went through the trauma of trying to kill a live eel for the baby's porridge by cutting off its head with a scissors the other day. But that's another story.

* MOMMY'S MOM



This is the two-minute Por Por, the new instant grandparent of today.

Unlike the other three, Day's Por Por treats him like a soft toy. Nice to be carried for up to two minutes and then it's on to her other activities. Life is too exciting for her to care about patting the baby for hours, watching hawk-eyed over him as he crawls or mashing up food for his porridge!

What Day will probably remember in future, however, is Por Por's daily evening greeting everytime she comes home: "Mun Zai, Por Por fan lei le!" (Translation from Cantonese: Day, Por Por is back!"

the eel incident

The day baby Day's Gong Gong wanted to feed him an eel in his porridge will probably go down in family history as one hell of an event.

Gong Gong was convinced that after spitting up cod fish, silverfish and ikan kurau porridge, baby Day had a gourmet palate that required something far more elegant. Something like an eel.

So he paid $5 for the live 30cm eel which was about as thick as a thumb. That same amount bought enough prawns for the whole family's dinner that night, so the baby's eel was mighty luxurious food.

But the real drama lay in the killing.

After plotting and planning how to go about killing the eel, which lay dormant in its watery plastic bag prison, Gong Gong decided that the best way was to knock it out cold.

It sounded good in theory but how does one go about bashing an eel in the head? Pick it up and lash its head on the ground? Not possible as it was slippery as soap and thrashing to boot.

In the end, Gong Gong tried to bang the plastic bag on the ground and hoped that the head would kenah at some point. No good.

Then he thought: Decapitation would work. Off with its head!

So he gleefully picked up the kitchen scissors, stuck his hand into the bag and neatly snipped off the eel's head.

Still, it wriggled.

Next: Disembowel it. It was difficult, but he managed to snip the wriggling eel down the centre, from tip (head not included) to tail.

Still, it moved. Sluggishly, but it moved even though its guts were out on the chopping board.

In the end, only boiling did the trick.

Did the end justify the means?

Yes. Baby Day lapped up every grain of his porridge, including the slippery black patches of eel skin.

new life

Today i join the 46% of women in Singapore who are unemployed, to become a full-time mom.

I had no idea there were so many women in Singapore who were not working! Are they all moms, like me? What do they do?

I have no idea what to do with baby Day. I used to chuck him to my father or to the maid. Now I am his primary caregiver.

Should I start reading up on how to wring out his maximum potential? Since I have the time, should I be a nazi-mom intent on making a top class academic, athlete and musician?

I think not! I am just going to love and enjoy him! Savour the sweetness of every moment like a daily dose of Godiva chocolate!

Tonight baby Day is already 6 months old. The first night I become his full-time mommy is the first time he is wearing long trousers; a terry-cloth blue pair that wraps becomingly around his springy fishball tush.

He cries and I pick him up so he can smell his mommy. He wriggles his nose into my neck and sighs, the way I do with his daddy.

I am so proud to be his mommy.