This is an experiment that has nothing to do with baby Day. I'm trying to post a MMS photo taken with a friend's mobile phone, using flickr. Just curious to see what it looks like.
Anyhow this was baby Day and me at another baby's first-month celebration. He's quite happy.
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Thursday, February 24, 2005
the poor baby bird
What a tragedy.
We had really been looking forward to seeing the eggs in the nest in our tree hatch and become a baby bird, then an adult bird.
Yesterday when we peeped into the tree, to our joy, there was one baby bird in the nest.
There had been 2 eggs, but only one of them seems to have hatched successfully. The mite was a tiny little thing, covered with bristly hairs, and its eyes could not even open.
But it's mouth sure could. It opened wide many times, and it was even calling for its mama which was chirping away in another tree.
I thought it would have been a celebration.
Today, when we took another peep, the baby bird was dead. It lay still with its spindly legs upturned in its little nest. Maybe it was the cat which got it, we don't know. Do birds have feelings? What must the mother bird be thinking? The poor, poor little thing.
We had really been looking forward to seeing the eggs in the nest in our tree hatch and become a baby bird, then an adult bird.
Yesterday when we peeped into the tree, to our joy, there was one baby bird in the nest.
There had been 2 eggs, but only one of them seems to have hatched successfully. The mite was a tiny little thing, covered with bristly hairs, and its eyes could not even open.
But it's mouth sure could. It opened wide many times, and it was even calling for its mama which was chirping away in another tree.
I thought it would have been a celebration.
Today, when we took another peep, the baby bird was dead. It lay still with its spindly legs upturned in its little nest. Maybe it was the cat which got it, we don't know. Do birds have feelings? What must the mother bird be thinking? The poor, poor little thing.
foetus soup
I can't believe people are eating foetuses in China, and apparently they have been doing it for almost 10 years.
I thought it was just another of those spam e-mail things, but the photos were proof that foetus soup is being prepared and drunk, and the Chinese news clipping lent the story even more credibility.
It's too horrific for words, though if I really bend my mind, I can see that it makes some sort of economic sense.
Baby Day's daddy disallowed me from putting up the photos, because he wants this website to stay innocent and wholesome. (that said, it's not bloody because the foetuses are boiled whole and are not cut up)
But as it's also about my journey as a mom, I will compromise by putting up the story instead, because while the news may have been gross before, it's heart-twisting now.
So here it is, translated (to the best of my ability). Read at your own risk.
FOETUS SOUP
Amongst Taiwanese businessmen in Guang Dong, the latest fad to strike is foetus soup.
For between 3 to 4,000 renminbi ($600 to $800 Singapore dollars), they can consume a 6-7 month old foetus. Taiwanese businessmen love it for they believe it makes them virile and enhances their sex drive.
Mr Wang, a fan of foetus soup, said: "A few months-old feotus, with tong guei, red dates and other herbs, plus pork ribs, after being boiled a few hours, is very good for 'qi' and the blood."
Patting his 19-year old mistress sitting next to him, he said with pride: "I'm already 62 but i can come once a night when I make love, all due to foetus soup!"
As the reporter remained dubious, Mr Wang brought the reporter to a restaurant. The cook said: " 'Pai gu' (ribs, their code for foetus) is not available, though we have fresh placenta. These things are better fresh. If you really want foetus, there is a couple, the woman is 8-months pregnant. Her first 2 are daughters. If you wait for a few more days, for labour to be induced, if its a girl you will have something to eat."
The reporter was still skeptical for he/she did not see the soup.
But a few days later, Mr Wang called: "The thing has come! The weather is cold, I have a few friends who also want to drink some tonic soup."
When the reporter went to the restaurant, he/she saw the foetus, a small baby no bigger than a kitten lying on the chopping board. The cook said apologetically: "Sorry, it's only 5 months plus, quite small".
He said the price was dependent on the age of the foetus, and whether it was dead or alive.
For Mr Wang, he only cares that it costs 3,500 RMB. He doesn't care about anything else.
As the reporter heard the men talking, they said that whether it's a miscarriage or an abortion, the mother will get a few hundred dollars ang bao. If it's almost a full-term baby, the mom gets 2,000 RMB ($400), as if it is an adoption.
By the time the foetus reaches the restaurant, it's dead. Whether it was dead or alive before is of no consequence.
The reporter said he/she did not dare to eat the foetus.
But said that: All the babies are girls. This, then, is a twisted result of China's one-child policy.
Some other links to foetus soup:
The doctors eat it too
Includes pretty graphic photos so watch it. Don't click on a weak stomach.
I thought it was just another of those spam e-mail things, but the photos were proof that foetus soup is being prepared and drunk, and the Chinese news clipping lent the story even more credibility.
It's too horrific for words, though if I really bend my mind, I can see that it makes some sort of economic sense.
Baby Day's daddy disallowed me from putting up the photos, because he wants this website to stay innocent and wholesome. (that said, it's not bloody because the foetuses are boiled whole and are not cut up)
But as it's also about my journey as a mom, I will compromise by putting up the story instead, because while the news may have been gross before, it's heart-twisting now.
So here it is, translated (to the best of my ability). Read at your own risk.
FOETUS SOUP
Amongst Taiwanese businessmen in Guang Dong, the latest fad to strike is foetus soup.
For between 3 to 4,000 renminbi ($600 to $800 Singapore dollars), they can consume a 6-7 month old foetus. Taiwanese businessmen love it for they believe it makes them virile and enhances their sex drive.
Mr Wang, a fan of foetus soup, said: "A few months-old feotus, with tong guei, red dates and other herbs, plus pork ribs, after being boiled a few hours, is very good for 'qi' and the blood."
Patting his 19-year old mistress sitting next to him, he said with pride: "I'm already 62 but i can come once a night when I make love, all due to foetus soup!"
As the reporter remained dubious, Mr Wang brought the reporter to a restaurant. The cook said: " 'Pai gu' (ribs, their code for foetus) is not available, though we have fresh placenta. These things are better fresh. If you really want foetus, there is a couple, the woman is 8-months pregnant. Her first 2 are daughters. If you wait for a few more days, for labour to be induced, if its a girl you will have something to eat."
The reporter was still skeptical for he/she did not see the soup.
But a few days later, Mr Wang called: "The thing has come! The weather is cold, I have a few friends who also want to drink some tonic soup."
When the reporter went to the restaurant, he/she saw the foetus, a small baby no bigger than a kitten lying on the chopping board. The cook said apologetically: "Sorry, it's only 5 months plus, quite small".
He said the price was dependent on the age of the foetus, and whether it was dead or alive.
For Mr Wang, he only cares that it costs 3,500 RMB. He doesn't care about anything else.
As the reporter heard the men talking, they said that whether it's a miscarriage or an abortion, the mother will get a few hundred dollars ang bao. If it's almost a full-term baby, the mom gets 2,000 RMB ($400), as if it is an adoption.
By the time the foetus reaches the restaurant, it's dead. Whether it was dead or alive before is of no consequence.
The reporter said he/she did not dare to eat the foetus.
But said that: All the babies are girls. This, then, is a twisted result of China's one-child policy.
Some other links to foetus soup:
The doctors eat it too
Includes pretty graphic photos so watch it. Don't click on a weak stomach.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
that pesky butt plug
Baby Day just had the third fever of his life and this time, it was a for-real viral infection. (The first was reaction to a jab, second was teething).
It lasted 2 whole days which is probably chicken-feed to parents whose kids yoyo up and down the degree scale for weeks, but it was the worst for us so far. It went up to 39.5 degrees and though baby Day was mostly behaving as if nothing was wrong (we were the ones who were looking pale and sick) we subjected him to a series of tortures which I think made him feel sicker than he actually did.
These included:
Wrapping his head and neck in ice-cold towels
Giving him cold baths
Forcing him to drink water, which he hates
Forcing baby Panadol on him by squeezing it into his mouth with a syringe
Violating his ear every 30 minutes (for TWO days) by sticking in the thermometre
Basically looking very strained and constipated around him
But the most INVASIVE thing we did was probably the butt plug, or the voren suppository. We actually stuck something up his ass. The last time, the nurse did it. This time, we were on our own.
Such an innocuous looking little capsule. But it was hell to administer.
First we had to cut it in half (one is too big a dose). Squeeze out the cold white creamy pellet, which has the consistency of hard cheese. Then we were told to get him on his side, draw his knees up and pop it in.
Reality sucked. For one, it was a moving pea-sized target which wasn't always open. For another, the plug refused to stay in because his rear end kept spitting it out, like it was a piece of shit.
We ended up chasing the crawler all over the room, cheering when the plug disappeared and screaming when the little white pellet suddenly re-dropped on the floor, increasingly squishy as it was melting. It probably took about 20 tries between 3 adults before it stayed in.
It works like a dream.
Lucky we only had to use it once though. The fever has broken, he's down to less than 36.
Instruments of torture: Panadol, syringe (to inject the Panadol into his mouth) and four butt plugs
It lasted 2 whole days which is probably chicken-feed to parents whose kids yoyo up and down the degree scale for weeks, but it was the worst for us so far. It went up to 39.5 degrees and though baby Day was mostly behaving as if nothing was wrong (we were the ones who were looking pale and sick) we subjected him to a series of tortures which I think made him feel sicker than he actually did.
These included:
Wrapping his head and neck in ice-cold towels
Giving him cold baths
Forcing him to drink water, which he hates
Forcing baby Panadol on him by squeezing it into his mouth with a syringe
Violating his ear every 30 minutes (for TWO days) by sticking in the thermometre
Basically looking very strained and constipated around him
But the most INVASIVE thing we did was probably the butt plug, or the voren suppository. We actually stuck something up his ass. The last time, the nurse did it. This time, we were on our own.
Such an innocuous looking little capsule. But it was hell to administer.
First we had to cut it in half (one is too big a dose). Squeeze out the cold white creamy pellet, which has the consistency of hard cheese. Then we were told to get him on his side, draw his knees up and pop it in.
Reality sucked. For one, it was a moving pea-sized target which wasn't always open. For another, the plug refused to stay in because his rear end kept spitting it out, like it was a piece of shit.
We ended up chasing the crawler all over the room, cheering when the plug disappeared and screaming when the little white pellet suddenly re-dropped on the floor, increasingly squishy as it was melting. It probably took about 20 tries between 3 adults before it stayed in.
It works like a dream.
Lucky we only had to use it once though. The fever has broken, he's down to less than 36.
Instruments of torture: Panadol, syringe (to inject the Panadol into his mouth) and four butt plugs
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
acousticophobia
There is one thing Day is terrified of: Loud noises (that is indeed Acousticophobia). It makes him scream in agony, tears streaming from his eyes, as he frantically looks around for salvation.
The funny thing is, it's not all loud noises that get to him. The roar of his Daddy's Harley, the barking of the neighbour's retriever (and the dog is a metre away from his face), the loud drone of the lawnmower. He's OK.
But something as silly as someone laughing loudly or shouting makes him panic.
Just now, as his head lay on my tummy and I was trying to put him to sleep in a dark room, I happened to shout out "the purple one!" (don't ask). He jerked awake and screamed like someone was pulling out his intestines.
Another time, as I was dangling him over the toilet bowl for him to shit, I happened to cackle very loudly. (Reason being that a pen he was playing with had flipped over and landed very neatly, quivering point-first in a pile of shit which he wrongly deposited on the toilet seat cover instead of in the bowl.) He didn't scream but his lower lip trembled and he looked up at me with tears in his eyes, like he was about to freak.
Oh and his veggie blender. That makes him wail too.
Maybe it's because he's been living in a very quiet house on a very quiet street since he was born.
The funny thing is, it's not all loud noises that get to him. The roar of his Daddy's Harley, the barking of the neighbour's retriever (and the dog is a metre away from his face), the loud drone of the lawnmower. He's OK.
But something as silly as someone laughing loudly or shouting makes him panic.
Just now, as his head lay on my tummy and I was trying to put him to sleep in a dark room, I happened to shout out "the purple one!" (don't ask). He jerked awake and screamed like someone was pulling out his intestines.
Another time, as I was dangling him over the toilet bowl for him to shit, I happened to cackle very loudly. (Reason being that a pen he was playing with had flipped over and landed very neatly, quivering point-first in a pile of shit which he wrongly deposited on the toilet seat cover instead of in the bowl.) He didn't scream but his lower lip trembled and he looked up at me with tears in his eyes, like he was about to freak.
Oh and his veggie blender. That makes him wail too.
Maybe it's because he's been living in a very quiet house on a very quiet street since he was born.
Monday, February 14, 2005
valentine's day
Love is in the air! It's baby Day's first Valentine's Day (oh alright, everything's a first for him isn't it?)
Here's wishing everyone luuurrrvvveee, today and every day from now!!!
Here's wishing everyone luuurrrvvveee, today and every day from now!!!
Saturday, February 12, 2005
watering the baby
One of baby Day's fav afternoon rituals is getting involved with Gong Gong's watering of the plants. Gong Gong uses a wonderful garden hose which shoots out powerful jet of water. Baby Day loves getting watered himself.
More specifically, he tries to catch the spray and when it shoots in his face, he squeals in glee.
Now he still has to be carried but when he can walk, I'd like to strip him and spray him as he dances in the garden. Babies and water really go well together.
More specifically, he tries to catch the spray and when it shoots in his face, he squeals in glee.
Now he still has to be carried but when he can walk, I'd like to strip him and spray him as he dances in the garden. Babies and water really go well together.
Thursday, February 10, 2005
chinese new year: day's first
We just had to. Rip off his clothes, stick a mandarin orange into his hands and make him pose against a yellow blanket: Happy happy Chinese New Year!
Somewhere down the line baby Day will stamp his little foot and refuse to be subject to the silly whims of his parents, but what the heck. We (or at least his mother) are going all out to embarrass him while we still can. At least we didn't buy a silky red Chinese samfoo for him.
Today is the second day of Chinese New Year, baby Day's first and one which marks the transition from the Monkey Year (baby Day's year) to the Cock Year (OK, rooster).
It's been two days of:
Eating nonsense (he's had kueh bangkit, siew mai and worst of all, Coca Cola - all against his mother's wishes)
Meeting tons of strangers (and giggling at every single one of them, he was thankfully very friendly)
Not sleeping
But for us, it's been a joy to have baby Day around. Visiting / being visited seems to take on more meaning because we finally have something to SHOW.
Not to mention that in the great tradition of hongbao giving, everybody has to give one to baby Day. (this rather confusing tradition requires married elders to give red packets to unmarried juniors. All children get hongbaos.)
Which means we made a PROFIT this year, very useful considering we are now a single-income family.
That said, we didn't spare the cash when it came to getting baby Day his outfit. Kids are supposed to get new outfits for the new year.
Instead of an obiang samfoo or kiddy outfits with little animal prints all over, we splurged on Simplicity. I realize that it costs an arm and a leg to buy Simple baby clothes. So $50 got us this:
Just the most basic of V-neck tanks and brown trousers but it's branded from Life Baby. It's a shop at City Hall selling the most gorgeous but over-priced baby clothes. Looks like we might turn out to be one of those families where baby looks a million times better dressed than mummy and daddy.
As to whether baby Day did anything meaningful apart from eating rubbish and collecting money, CNY, like Xmas, has become very much just that. But at least he took part in his first reunion dinner, a tradition which is still very much stuck to.
Here he is, attempting to toss his first yu-sheng. It's all about getting together with family and loved ones!
Have a Merry Year of the Cock!
Friday, February 04, 2005
39 degrees
That's baby Day's temperature.
Just one degree away from 40, possible convulsions and serious Brain Frying.
Ironic how I had just read about Tiger being sick, posted a consolatory commment about how he'll get better, and now it's my turn to console myself.
Yesterday he was fine and this morning, he suddenly went from 36 to 39.
With panicky thoughts of friends whose babies were permanently damaged by innocuous fevers, I packed him off the doctor. One little butt plug in his anus (a Voren suppository. He didn't even squeal, it doesn't seem to hurt) and he was down to 37 within the hour. But that only lasts a couple of hours and it apparently isn't very good for him.
Baby Day doesn't often get sick. He doesn't mix around and he seems to have an iron-strong constitution (like his daddy, thankfully).
The first time he was sick with fever was four months ago (see above) and thank my lucky stars, there were no fevers since then.
Until now.
It's confusing how everyone has something different to say, but I broadly class it into the "It's OK" group and the "Freak Out" group.
It's OK
All kids get sick, if they have fevers it means they are fighting germs.
It's probably teething, which can cause temperatures to go up to 40.
Just give him the Panadol and it will probably go away after 2 days.
Freak Out
Watch out for fits and tongue-biting!
His temperature will shoot up at night so you better not sleep yourself to take his temperature every hour.
He could need antibiotics in a few days time if it doesn't get better.
Kids can get fevers for days, weeks.
High fevers could be meningitis which is fatal.
The anal suppository which your doctor has given him causes gastric irritation.
Oooops. The freak out list is obviously way longer, but it is obviously much better to err on the side of caution.
Anyway baby Day is behaving fine. Very lembek, that's all.
And in a weird way I realized how lucky I was when I popped over to the neighbour's (Sophie's place) and they offered me 1,001 tips on kiddy fever, from offering opinions on medicine to tossing me a snazzy cool-gel pad to place on baby Day's head.
They are experts because their kids get sick so often.
(Oh, and T, thanks for the prayers.)
Just one degree away from 40, possible convulsions and serious Brain Frying.
Ironic how I had just read about Tiger being sick, posted a consolatory commment about how he'll get better, and now it's my turn to console myself.
Yesterday he was fine and this morning, he suddenly went from 36 to 39.
With panicky thoughts of friends whose babies were permanently damaged by innocuous fevers, I packed him off the doctor. One little butt plug in his anus (a Voren suppository. He didn't even squeal, it doesn't seem to hurt) and he was down to 37 within the hour. But that only lasts a couple of hours and it apparently isn't very good for him.
Baby Day doesn't often get sick. He doesn't mix around and he seems to have an iron-strong constitution (like his daddy, thankfully).
The first time he was sick with fever was four months ago (see above) and thank my lucky stars, there were no fevers since then.
Until now.
It's confusing how everyone has something different to say, but I broadly class it into the "It's OK" group and the "Freak Out" group.
It's OK
All kids get sick, if they have fevers it means they are fighting germs.
It's probably teething, which can cause temperatures to go up to 40.
Just give him the Panadol and it will probably go away after 2 days.
Freak Out
Watch out for fits and tongue-biting!
His temperature will shoot up at night so you better not sleep yourself to take his temperature every hour.
He could need antibiotics in a few days time if it doesn't get better.
Kids can get fevers for days, weeks.
High fevers could be meningitis which is fatal.
The anal suppository which your doctor has given him causes gastric irritation.
Oooops. The freak out list is obviously way longer, but it is obviously much better to err on the side of caution.
Anyway baby Day is behaving fine. Very lembek, that's all.
And in a weird way I realized how lucky I was when I popped over to the neighbour's (Sophie's place) and they offered me 1,001 tips on kiddy fever, from offering opinions on medicine to tossing me a snazzy cool-gel pad to place on baby Day's head.
They are experts because their kids get sick so often.
(Oh, and T, thanks for the prayers.)
Thursday, February 03, 2005
baby birds
When baby Day was born, his uncle Gerard called him baby bird, because his other uncle's nickname is Bird. Don't ask.
Well! Today we found a perfect palm-sized bird's nest in the garden, woven from branches and tissue and wooly stuff, with not one but two purple and white speckled eggs in it the size of Mini-Eggs chocolates.
Baby Day's Gong Gong was watering the plants and when he came to the tree, a bird suddenly flew out. We climbed up and found its nest.
It's lovely having something as earthy as a bird's nest in our garden and it's even more wonderful knowing that it holds life. We can't wait for those babies to hatch.
Well! Today we found a perfect palm-sized bird's nest in the garden, woven from branches and tissue and wooly stuff, with not one but two purple and white speckled eggs in it the size of Mini-Eggs chocolates.
Baby Day's Gong Gong was watering the plants and when he came to the tree, a bird suddenly flew out. We climbed up and found its nest.
It's lovely having something as earthy as a bird's nest in our garden and it's even more wonderful knowing that it holds life. We can't wait for those babies to hatch.
going without day
Our lives revolve so completely around baby Day now that we've forgotten our own. I never thought we would be one of those couples whose lives centre around the kid, but nine months on, I admit we are. We miss baby Day, we talk about baby Day and we would rather sleep with baby Day.
In some ways it's inevitable. It's so very very easy to get lost in this perfect world where nothing but you and the baby exists, where issues and worries and gripes are irrelevant. Where it's all about hugging his smooth baby body, burying your nose in his soft furry head and watching him grow into himself everyday.
But we mustn't forget each other, for if there was no us, there would be no him. Trite but true.
It's our wedding anniversary - three years since we became man and wife in the eyes of the law - and I think probably for the first time since baby Day was born, I insisted that we go out together without him and chuck him to someone else.
We went on a power-packed outing to the reservoir, trekking 10km on a jungle track to a bridge strung high up among the treetops.
When we left in the morning, after putting baby Day to sleep, there were vestiges of guilt. Here, daddy had taken the day off and instead of going on a Family Outing, we were gallivanting around on our own. The audacity!
After taking a long look at baby Day, Daddy turned to me and said:
Let's bring him along. He's part of the family.
Me: Huh?
Daddy: I'll carry him. In the sling.
Me: For 10km? Through the freaking jungle?
For the record, that 10km trek took us 2 hours, through ups and downs, endless flights of steps and the sweltering noonday sun as we had to walk round a golf course (!).
Daddy still thinks he could have carried baby Day in a sling.
Well even if he could, I'm glad it was just us for a while.
In some ways it's inevitable. It's so very very easy to get lost in this perfect world where nothing but you and the baby exists, where issues and worries and gripes are irrelevant. Where it's all about hugging his smooth baby body, burying your nose in his soft furry head and watching him grow into himself everyday.
But we mustn't forget each other, for if there was no us, there would be no him. Trite but true.
It's our wedding anniversary - three years since we became man and wife in the eyes of the law - and I think probably for the first time since baby Day was born, I insisted that we go out together without him and chuck him to someone else.
We went on a power-packed outing to the reservoir, trekking 10km on a jungle track to a bridge strung high up among the treetops.
When we left in the morning, after putting baby Day to sleep, there were vestiges of guilt. Here, daddy had taken the day off and instead of going on a Family Outing, we were gallivanting around on our own. The audacity!
After taking a long look at baby Day, Daddy turned to me and said:
Let's bring him along. He's part of the family.
Me: Huh?
Daddy: I'll carry him. In the sling.
Me: For 10km? Through the freaking jungle?
For the record, that 10km trek took us 2 hours, through ups and downs, endless flights of steps and the sweltering noonday sun as we had to walk round a golf course (!).
Daddy still thinks he could have carried baby Day in a sling.
Well even if he could, I'm glad it was just us for a while.
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