I’ve moved….to another blog

The time has come for me to finally combine my blogs in one and sadly that means that I will no longer be publishing posts in this blog.


I have 2 active blogs, one is purely about makeup – MsChikee and the other one is this baby, Working Mummy Chronicles.

This change means that I’m changing my MsChikee Blog to not only feature makeup posts but also my typical mummy posts that I usually posts here.

I hope to you see on the other blog and thank you for being my reader for the short time that I was blogging here.

Creating this blog made me realise the need for me to grow and has liberated me from just blogging about makeup. It was evident that my priorities have changed and while I love makeup and all things beauty, I enjoyed writing about my life as a mummy.

So see you on the other blog, i hope!


Working Mummy Chronicles



A decade without my Mama

Ten years today, that’s how long since I’ve last held my mama.


Every Second of July each year, I mourn all over again. It’s that one day in the year when my mind is elsewhere and my tears are abound.

How did I even manage to go through life without her? And for ten years? I don’t know.

Our mother-daughter relationship was not perfect, that’s not what I am trying to tell you, nor was I the model daugher. Our relationship was normal. We had our fights and our make-ups. We had our moods, bad days and good days, but one thing remained true, she loved me and I loved her back. 

I had a different blog during the time when I lost her and I wrote what had happened on our last day together. I knew that time that one day I’ll forget how she sounded like, so I had to immortalised that day through a blog post. I never want to forget. No matter how painful it was.

And here I am again, sharing it to the world.

Story time.

I was by her side when she passed away, something that I am always grateful for. My mum gave me my holiday travel dates to Manila and she was adamant I must book exactly the dates she’d given. It seemed that she knew she’ll be leaving and she wanted to make sure I am home.

1 JULY 2006

800 am – My dad’s cry for help woke me up. I was sleeping at the next room.  He’s been awake all night with her. She was in agony and so scared all night. Her fight didn’t start that day, it just hit its point of no return.

Panic has set in. She didn’t want to be brought to hospital. She’s scared from our previous ambulance accident the day before.

But against her will, I picked up the phone and rang the hospital. 

I rushed everyone to get ready but my mama. I told her to be calm and that help is on its way.

815 am – Ambulance arrived. A doctor and 2 nurses came in. They didn’t say much, but I knew she’s not doing very good.

The doctor said she is in critical condition, something about only taking 60% of oxygen.

We got into the hospital safely. No accident this time.

830 am Doctors and nurses gathered around her. It was an out of body experience. I was there but I felt I was watching what was happening.

I started to panic. I can’t see my mum with all of them around her. They pulled different machines, tubes, drips. There are about 10 people around her and some are on top of her. Frantic and trying to attach something or finding something.. and then they stopped.

Three nurses walked away and finally, I had a glimpse of her, a very quick glimpse. My legs felt like jelly but my whole body wanted to bust those double doors and just get her out of that table.

There was a tube in her mouth and drips on her arms and thighs. All these things attached to her. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t move. I saw her eyes. I saw how scared she was. She was trying to find us but she couldn’t turn her head.

Doctors came up to me and my dad, they started asking us questions. how long did she have cancer? what is she eating? what medicines she taking? how many chemo sessions did she had? when was the last chemo? do you have her medical records? where are her xray films?

I zoned out. I let my dad answer everything. I just stared at my mum.

I can still remember the smell of that emergency room. Hospital grade alcohol and something burning.

Events started to look like in slow motion.  Sounds became incoherent to my ears, more like mumbles and groans.  I was there but I wasn’t there. This is not happening.

The main doctor came and saw me, dressed in pink skirt, high-heeled slip on shoes and a very expensive looking bag. No white coat on, no scrubs, nothing. She didn’t look like a doctor but they said she was the best.

She asked us to leave the room for a moment and just like that, the emergency doctors and nurses gathered round her.

I can’t hear anything nor can I read their lips. Some nurses were writing notes, doctors nodding. Some shook their heads and took a deep breath. The others just looked so sad like they knew what’s coming.

Then suddenly *bleep*!! lights were off! The hospital is now in total darkness. Power outage, one guy said. I burst in, through that double doors and yelled at someone, “someone look after my mum! She can’t breathe”. 

“Is she breathing?”

I saw her eyes, she was even more scared. She was moving her feet, telling us that she’s scared.

A nurse started to take the tube off the machine and attached to the “manual” balloon like device. I can hear them counting in unison… 1, 2, 3, 4 pump, 1, 2, 3, 4 pump 

My dad then said something, something that made me smile..

dad: “This reminds me of you when you were born. All of us were outside the delivery room. Your Tatay Caloy was fighting with the power company begging not to turn the power off because your mum was about to have the c-section. You were about to be born”

I smiled because he remembered.

The power is back on! Feeling relieved was an understatement. The nurses put her back in the machine and I saw her calming down. Her body is relaxed. Alive but relaxed.

Ten minutes later, the power was off again, and it seemed that someone has pressed replay. The nurses gathered around my mum and attached her back to the blue balloon and the counting started again.

The power went on, then off, then back on and then off again. 

I wanted to scream at someone.

And by some form of divine intervention, the power stayed on. I went inside the room, held her hand. She squeezed it. I kept on telling her that we are here and to not give up. She nodded, promising. She squeezed my hand again and again.

I told her to be strong, to not give up, to keep on fighting. She replied with tears. She was yes to me but she knew she can’t keep the promise.

The main doctor came back. Her face was serious, so serious that my gaze didn’t leave my mum’s face. I knew she’s going to be taken away. I kept on looking at the breathing machine, the heartbeat monitor, the oxygen rate, her feet, her hands, her face. My dad had to pull me back, away from my thoughts and begged me to listen. The doctor spoke for 20 and I only gathered:

– your mum is in critical condition

– she is not stablelising

– the medicines are not working as much as we expected

– her blood pressure is dropping

“there is a 50-50 chance of survival. very slim. If she survives overnight, I will be surprised”   

So much for compassion. I found myself getting worked up and shouting at the good doctor. I wasn’t my character, but can you blame be if someone says to you they’d be surprised if your mum survives the night?

I apologised to her. She understood. I don’t think I am the first person ever screamed at her.

“we will do everything we can”, she promised.

I believed her. We believed her. I trusted her. 

Relatives started calling and like us they were hopeful. they wanted updates, progress, anything. I didn’t disclose the possibility of a surprised doctor come morning next day. I only told them she’s breathing and she’s being looked after.

1600 pm – 2230 pm

There was no progress, except for a good 2 hours, my mum was stable. I was relieved to know and started hoping that some doctor is indeed going to be surprised.

Head doctor heard the news. She came back and checked on mum.

She was very pleased, but despite the good news, she didn’t let the doctors leave. Somehow, that  made me nervous.

The following hours were all about holding her hands, fixing her hair, talking to her, telling her stories, reminding her to fight.

And all she did was respond to me.

Then she managed to speak, she’s very thirsty and hungry she said. 

Granting her wishes was next to impossible. All I allowed to do was wet her lips with water. I was heartbreaking. She was the best cook and fed us with delicious foods, and here I am just wetting her lips with water.

We were then transferred to her own room.  She was stable and giving good signs. I was hopeful.

Just as we were about to move her, a strong sound started beeping like crazy. 

The head doctor’s name is now being paged throughout the hospital

I started crying.

After 40 minutes of trying to make the sound stop, the main doctor said, “your mum’s vitals are dropping”

they added new medicine tubes, they injected new medicines.

And then we were transferred.

Some doctors and nurses came with us.

We marched like an army. I walked with my mum. I was still holding her hands, even inside the lift I was still holding her hands. 

2230 pm– 0045 pm

We got into her own room. They tried to put things back in order, machines up, medicine lines up, suction up, heartbeat machine up.

We had 5 doctors and 6 nurses in the room. 

I was still holding her hands.

I started asking her questions.
“are you tired now?”
“are you sleepy now?”

her answer?! — continuous nodding.
her eyes were still half open, she was sedated but she refused to sleep.

So I talked to her more. I told her to sleep for a while and that we will be here, we wont leave her side. I told her that she got the best doctors and nurses, I told her that I won’t let go of her hand.

she nodded, kept on nodding

I started crying. She started crying.

I continued to wet her lips with water. I continued my stories.

0045 – 100

I started feeling tired and my mum had fallen asleep.  I told her I am just going outside the room. 

I sat outside the room, in the hallway.

I started eating my very late dinner, when Flor, a family friend, hurried outside to get me. She was crying and in panic, she said “come in quick, your mum is awake”

I came in as quick as I can. I saw from where I was standing that my mum’s eyes were fully open like in shocked. I looked at all the monitors, heartbeat on, oxygen on. She’s was OK.

I woke my dad and my brother and told them that she’s awake.

Her eyes were searching, so we stood up next to her, close enough to see us all. The moment she saw us, she lifted her head and her eyes were saying, “hey, there you are, I am going now, I am sorry”. She also looked like she saw someone familiar, someone she hasn’t seen before and then tears fell down her cheeks. She gazed up the ceiling, her eyes still wide open.

I knew, from that second, that we lost her.

Her vitals soon went down so fast the doctors and nurses couldn’t keep up.

2 July 2016

100 am – 130 am

Her vitals kept on dropping.

She’s not responding to anything I say, to anything we say.

Her body reflected someone who has surrendered. Peacefully.

Her heart was still beating. 

Her breaths were still evident.

The whole room became so cold, so cold I started shivering.

I couldn’t stop crying.
I pulled her hand begging her to squeeze mine.

The doctors told us, “there’s nothing we can do to save her, we can do CPR if she reaches flat line”. 

There was no brain activity.

I looked at her frail body then I looked at my dad.
We agreed to let her go. 

A priest came to bless her.

And then she flat lined. *beeep*

I felt numb, I knelt down and cried hysterically.

Then suddenly her heartbeat went up again.

I stopped crying, looked at her.
She’s not moving. She’s not responding.

150 am

She flat lined again. *beeeeeep*

This time, it was permanent.

She’s gone..

I held her, hugged her, kissed her. I was shaking her so much I wanted her to wake up.

I couldn’t stop shaking. 

She was gone.



Thank you for reading all the way through.

Reading this entry again made me feel sad but at the same time glad that I wrote it. I never want to forget.

I know she’s happy now and pain free.

She was our light. She was our strength.

She is forever and deeply missed.

Thank you again for reading xx

A boy!

We are having another BOY! insert all blue love hearts possible.


We are over the moon excited as you can imagine and I can’t wait to meet this little guy! insert more blue love hearts emoticons here.

I didn’t have a strong preference nor gut feeling, although, I admit I was getting excited to the idea of a baby girl.

Let’s get a little bit serious, shall we? Story time!

At the beginning of the pregnancy, I had mixed emotions on my geneder preference, even if in reality, I would accept a boy or girl.

Having a girl would mean we have one of each. Question is, will they be friends? Will they get along?

Then I get this pang  of sadness, I wish I could ask my mum how I was as a baby, as a toddler, as school age girl, as a teenager.  Alas, my questions will remain unanswered.

I was a goody-two-shoes kind of teen. I aimed to please my parents and didn’t do anything to make them upset. I grew up too quickly and worried about life too early. I aimed to please my mum the most and did everything in my power to make her proud, happy and content. To me, she was my light and everything. I did everything for her, even agreed to moved to a different country to make sure my entire family has got a chance of a better life. All I wanted was for her was to be happy. Always. But what if my potential daughter hates me and be the complete opposite of me?

Then I look at my relationship with my brother. It’s not perfect but we’re there for each other. We will do anything for each other no matter what. But what if I have a boy and girl and they hate each other and don’t ever want to help each other?

Then I started imagining having 2 boys and the same worries hit me. What if they don’t like each other? hate each other?

And then, reality hits, no matter what I am having, I can’t predict the relationship they are  going to have. I can only teach them how to love, tolerate and respect each other.

End of Story time.

I have so many worries just like any parent but I know that we can only guide and teach our children to be in the path we want them to be, have the values we want them to have, create the life we imagined them to live just as much and the rest is all on them. You can’t control everything.

I do have a list of things that I’d like to tackle differently than how my parents did and hope for the best. We all have the ideas of how to be a better parent than our own and pretty sure our children will have the same ideas when it’s their turn. The key word is “better”, means it’s a win win. It’s a positive change.

Some people say we are our parents but in all honesty,  I don’t think we are. We are our own kind of parents. We just know their habits that we grew up with and subconsciously finding ourselves following them. Most are good and some are bad. Changing the bad habits means you care so much that you didn’t want to commit the same “mistakes” as your parents did. Mistakes and how we define them are subjective. Some are clear mistakes, ie, abuse, negligence, etc. And some are “choices” that our parents made that were deemed right for the family at that time. We don’t know how hard parenting is when we’re young. Not me at least.

Parenting in general is really hard. Making sure you’re on the same page as your partner is even harder. It’s no easy feat. And no one is perfect. We can only aim to be good if not better.

End of serious talk.

What a serious post! LOL

So..a penis is growing inside me. For those SATC fans, you know who said this.

I am having a boy and I remain the Queen of my household!

Hope you’re having a lovely Friday! xx

“no I don’t want to”

We’ve established that I live with a Threenager. We’ve also established that the struggle is real and for all of us parents with three year olds, we all know that our patience is the ultimate measuring device on how much wine you can drink far your child can push the boundaries. Often times they are right there on the edge.

My threenager’s mood is deeply affected by his day at daycare or food or the clothes he’s wearing or screen time or time at the park or all of the above (all at once).

The opinions that comes out of his tiny mouth are unbelievably witty, the boy got some things to say.

Recently, a phrase is getting a lot of air time in our household, to a point that a body language (including the lower lip pout) is manifested each time the said phrase is spoken.

“No I Don’t Want to!”

The first few times you find it cute.

Oh look at you Little Mr Defiant. Too cute, but I want you to pack away those toys please.

“No! I don’t want to!”

Oh come on now darling, we need to pack away so we can go to the park.

“No! I don’t want to!”

Come on I’ll help you? 

“No! I don’t want to!”

Do you want to race and see who’s faster in packing away? (I let him win this game all the time, just saying)

“No! I don’t want to”

And then his cool is outta window!

I don’t pack away just because he loses the plot. I wait until he’s done crying and all calm (or almost calm) then ask again what I initially wanted him to do. Sometimes this lasts for 2 hours. True story. But I don’t care, I don’t budge. I also stopped making excuses like “oh he’s just tired” or “he’s a had a bad day” because in reality he’s just being a little turd.

When this happens, the turdness, profanities will start sitting just at the tip of my tongue, but I refuse to get down his shitty level. I am better than this. I am the parent. If I lose my cool then I already lost. Mantra to myself.

Disclaimer: I do lose my cool occasionally,  I am not perfect.

Threats of potential sentence to time out corner are given as a first warning. Then if all fails, I start counting and boy when I count one to five backwards, I mean business and he knows it.

In all honesty, 3 out of 5 times, the little boy will get up and do what was asked of him, happily. I just have to be a broken record. Sometimes he thinks that it’s funny to annoy me, like it’s a game of “how far can I actually push her this time before she starts counting backwards”.

The struggle is real.

And even more when you’re in public. I learned this new phrase from a dear friend, she once told me about Dignity Graveyard. It’s a place where your dignity goes 6 feet under and the very grave is dug by your threenager. The judging eyes of other parents are the dirt that goes in your grave and this can be any public place where parents and children are seen together, like the park or a restaurant or public transport or parents room, the shops, everywhere.

I’ve had my fair share of dignity graveyard and it is not fun while in the moment. However, it’s hilarious after 10 years few days.

I have no real advice because your little turd of a threenager is different than mine. But I’d like to let you know that you are not alone.

Just remember, when all the shitty moods are gone, we are always left with the sweetest little creatures. At least mine is. Hugs and kisses galore and apologises for being a turd. And then tomorrow, we will do it all over again.

For all the single parents, my hat is off to you!!

How does it feel to be pregnant again?

A common question I get from people is How does it feel to be pregnant again?  Which is then followed by Is it any different with your first pregnancy? 

Yes, each of my pregnancies are different from each other. 

My first pregnancy was a dream. Less to no symptoms. I was naive and didn’t know much of the aches and pains that a pregnancy brings but I welcomed them with open arms and such enthusiasm. I was grateful for every pain, every stretch marks and the exhaustion? They were reminders that I am going through something magical. I thought I was a walking miracle and it felt so good knowing a tiny human is growing in me. I was my biology class in action!

My second pregnancy was a surprise but sadly it was over before I can even appreciate the “real” symptoms even though my body refused to miscarry on its own. I didn’t enjoy any bit in that pregnancy to say the least.

Now, my third pregnancy and hopefully my second baby that I get to meet, cuddle, raise, the works. This one is so different. I am grateful for the chance to experience it again but it is soooooo different.  I can only describe this like so…..

Dear readers, I need you to turn on your imagination…..

Imagine a drill sargent or maybe a basket ball coach trying to gather its troops/team and by troops/team I mean your organs, hormones, emotions, weight, body parts, etc.


Loud siren continues to wake the whole body up.

Drill Sargent blows his whistle, “ALL RIGHT, LISTEN UP, THIS IS NOT A DRILL! I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL. A conception has taken place and HQ wants everyone to know their new job assignments. I don’t want to hear any complaints. What HQ decides, we do. Now, wait for further instructions. Dismissed!”

*Mummy pees in cup and dipped her last remaining digital test in it. Waiting, Waiting, Waiting. POSTIVE! Mummy is now in shock*

Drill Sargent blows his whistle again with so much gusto this time, “ALL RIGHT, LISTEN UP!! MUMMY NOW KNOWS SHE’S PREGNANT. WE ARE OFFICIALLY IN BUSINESS! WHEN I CALL YOUR NAME, LISTEN CLOSELY AND LISTEN WELL….. GAS PAIN, your job is done. Mummy got the message. Take a rest and wait for further instructions. BLOAT, LET’S START WITH YOU!”

Drill Sargent: Bloat, I need you to be front runner and go big. The bigger you go the happier HQ will be. I repeat go big! And don’t even take a break until Mummy is past 12 week! If you can, make sure Mummy looks about 6months pregnant now, that’s the goal!

Bloat: Aye, Aye, Sir.

Drill Sargent: Uterus, you’re up!

Uterus: Yes, sir, yes!

Drill Sargent: All right uterus, you’re the star. Make sure the house is ready for our guest. Once you receive the package, make sure it has plenty of space. Remember your last position when the giant baby was inside you? Start with that size! Don’t go stingy on space. Go big. Mummy makes giant babies so please adjust your real estate fast.

Uterus: Aye, Aye, Sir

Drill Sargent: Next up, Cervix and Vagina! CERVIX, close up and go high. If you feel something poking you, release some pink pigment. You are closed for now.  Close your doors and lock it. I’ll let you know when is your grand re-opening. And you VAGINA, go dry up for now. OK, that’s all I’ve got for you two.

Vagina and Cervix: Aye, Aye, Sir!

Drill Sargent: BOOBS you’re up. You need to be sore and take it a notch higher. No one can touch you, not even a bra. You need to go big as well. Remember your last size during the giant baby time, start with that and grow more.

Boobs: Should I be itchy too?

Drill Sargent checks the list, “Yes be itchy but also on fire when you get itched by Mummy”

Drill Sargent: Nose, Back, Hips! All of you… we need you to go WIDE.

Nose: As wide as before when Giant Baby was here?

Drill Sargent: Yes, wider and increase your senses. You will help Nausea and Morning Sickness.

Back: But Sir, I never went back to how I was after Giant Baby, should I still go WIDE?

Drill Sargent: YES! And ache sometimes. No more questions.

Hips: Widening now as we speak sir.

Drill Sargent: Good job hips. I want Mummy to wobble as early as possible. Suits her right for not exercising. And oh Vagina, you will start feeling like you’ve been punched.

Drill Sargent: Stretchmarks! I want you to hide for a bit. You’re not needed. I don’t want you anywhere close any skin at the moment. Go dark.

Drill Sargent:  Last one for now, where are NAUSEA and MORNING SICKNESS? 

Nausea and Morning Sickness: We are here sir!

Drill Sargent: You twins are going big stars! HQ wants you to go crazy. Be creative. Linger all day if you want or even while Mummy is asleep. If you don’t want anything she ate or drank, push them back where they came from. Make sure Mummy can’t do much. Go wild. She’ll probably take some medication but ignore it. Go BIG! It’s your time to shine. Don’t stop until I tell you so. Do you copy? A lot of the key players are going to help you achieve your goals, like Nose, he knows what to do.

Nausea and Morning Sickness: Yes sir!

Drill Sargent: Wait, wait, I have one more in my list…. Where are HORMONES?!

Hormones: We are here sir!

Drill Sargent: Please work hand in hand with Nausea and Morning Sickness. Populate like no other. I want crying for no reason. I want mood swings through the roof. I want extreme happiness and then anger. We are getting some reinforcements to help our buddy progesterone but the rest of you multiply like no other, except you Libido, you’ve done enough. Go dark now.

Drill Sargent: All right, that’s all the assignments I have for now, I’ll be back in 3 months time for more assignments. Make me proud! DISMISSED!

And folks that’s how different this pregnancy is and we are only past the first trimester.

But I am savouring every single twinge, aches, pains…. to be able to experience this again is just icing on my cake 🙂

I had the most fun writing this and hope you enjoyed reading.

Happy Wednesday!




I am pregnant!

Yes, you read that right, I am pregnant! After a year of trying and failing, it finally happened.


People told me that once we stopped trying then it will happen. I hated that advice with a passion. I never once thought of myself being able to not try, I know too much about my body now and my ovulation, it’s just too hard to switch off, but that’s how this new journey started. We stopped trying.

We decided to stop trying (aka for me to stop obsessing about everything) until we see a Fertility Specialist. It’s been a year and  it was time to see a specialist. I got all my paperworks, first appointment booked and a doctor’s referral. I got it all sorted and we were just waiting for the day.

I cancelled the appointment.

Story Time!

Five days before the appointment, I had a terrible gas pain. For the first time I didn’t associate it as pregnancy symptom, instead, I put it down as something I ate like a normal person would. The day carried on as normal, chasing taming a toddler, cooking, cleaning, complaining about gas pain, toddler in timeout, laundry. It was a public holiday, long weekend.

The following day was different, I still had the gas pain and I can’t seem to relieve myself with all the remedies I can think of to release the bad gas. So I decided to pee on a cheapie stick at 4am in the morning, because why not. If I can’t get rid of the bad gas, I’ll just pee on the stick.

3 minutes passed.

Picture me in the toilet holding up the cheapie pregnancy test, trying to find the best possible light/angle because I swear I can see a second line. I swear!

5 minutes passed.

Picture me in the toilet now wearing my glasses, holding up the cheapie pregnancy test, bending backward and forward, still looking for the best possible angle, because I really see a very faint second line.

Nah, it can’t be. It’s 4am and I am possibly sleep walking.

I threw the cheapie stick in the bin.

I pulled it out.

I wrapped it in toilet paper then threw it in the bin.

I pulled it out again and took it with me to bed, clutching it in my hand.

I then put it in my bedside drawer.

I went back to sleep.

Seven O’clock alarm woke up and he is screaming Mummy. I got up and first thing I checked was my drawer. Did it really happened?

I carefully opened the drawer, cautious that something will just jump at me. I saw the tissue paper, shook my head in disbelief, I opened it, blinked a few times to adjust my eyes, and there I see the second line.

And so I held my pee for 2 hours

I did another cheapie pregnancy test, in secret. The husband mustn’t know.

3 minutes passed.

I see a much darker second line.

Wait, don’t celebrate yet. Don’t even jump. What should I do?

I was confused. I was happy and scared at the same time. I was only 10DPO (days past ovulation). Why am I getting a positive test this early?

I kept the secret for one more day because I was still convinced it’s a false positive.

Sunday, I woke up at 6am with a mission.

I took my only and last digital pregnancy test from my secret stash and headed to the other toilet. Away from the husband.

I didn’t want to mess it up so I peed in a cup.

Dipped the digital test in the cup.

5 LOOOOOOONG Minutes passed

The “hourglass” was still blinking. At that point, I was feeling deflated. It shouldn’t take that long, should it?

I started filming myself and the blinking hourglass. I thought I’d document what’s happening.

And BAM!

Pregnant. 1-2 weeks.

I didn’t know what to do. I was shaking.

I sat down the toilet (lid closed).

I stood up.

Paced a little.

I was still filming. Cut the filming. Looked at the test. Sat down the toilet again.

After an hour, I woke up the husband and presented him the most unhygienic yet most wonderful gift.

End of Story time.

It was a very confusing time. I wanted to be excited but I can’t. I was emotionally cautious. I didn’t want to get hurt again and have my hopes up.

It was not until I had my first scan and saw a pebble looking blob with a strong heartbeat at 6w3d, that I realised I am indeed pregnant.

My son is inlove with the belly and my husband and whole family are just as excited as I am.

I am now 14w and counting and I can’t wait until I meet this baby. I think this time he/she is ready to be part of our family.

If you read the whole post, thank you. High Five!

Hope it’s warm and sunny where you are 🙂

5 Facts that proves my son is mine

Let’s not account any scientific evidence that he’s mine. Let’s just base it on habits, temperament and mannerisms.


Bean fed like clock work when he was a baby. It’s always on the 3hour mark. If you miss it by a second, because you decided to clean your nipple shield first, you’ll be deaf. There’s no in between range of cries. It’s just FEED ME! Or Imma cut you!!

Yup, that’s me. Once I reach a point of hunger, you will know. Errrbody will know. No one is safe.  

Remember that Snickers ad? You’re not you when you’re hungry? That’s my autobiography. 



My son refuses any kind of help when he’s on a mission. He once carried a tub of cars and a box of blocks all by himself, all in one go, sweat and tears. It was painful to watch. He lost it a few times when I tried to help him. Horrible mum for helping. He lost it just by me asking a question if he wanted help. He’s too independent for his own good.

Well this is me too. When I have something in my mind I’d like to do, I do it on my own. I don’t ask for help even if it would be easier to accept help. I find myself telling my son, let mummy help you. When mummy doesn’t let anyone to help her. OMG, this is so deep. LOL.


This is my threenager:

Bean walks to the fridge.

Your drink bottle is in the fridge,  I tell him. MELTDOWN.

Bean leaves the dining table and gets some wet wipes.

Please wipe your hands and face,  I tell him. MELTDOWN.

Bean goes to the bathroom after being on the potty.

Don’t forget to wash your hands!,  I tell him. MELTDOWN.

Now this is me:

Photo Source and Credits: Google Images, SNL Tumblr

“Watch out for the car, slow down now, use your left indicator, oh move lanes now, wait for this guy to turn, go go go now”, my husband instructs me while I drive. DEATH STARE WITH GLARING EYES. I am doing it!

I go clean the kitchen and  wipe the kitchen counter.

Are you going to wipe the dining table?, my husband asks. DEATH STARE WITH GLARING EYES. I am doing it!

Are we getting the point?


I don’t know how I survived when Bean was a newborn. I was probably just grumpy all the time?

But man if you find me or my son asleep on the couch, on the floor or on the table or under the bed, DONT.YOU.DARE Wake us so sudden.Or just don’t you dare wake up us. We will find our way.

Finally my favourite, MEMORY FAIL

Where is my dummy?  I can’t find my dummy. Oh here it is,  I found it in my hand mummy.

Where is my car mummy? Where is my red car? I can’t find my red car. Oh here it is on my lap.

Where is my car key? I can’t find my car key. Oh here it is in my bag.

Where are my eyeglasses? I can’t find my eyeglasses! Oh here it is on my head.

Where is my pen? I can’t find my pen. Oh here it is in my bag (again).

Where is the Apple remote? I can’t find the apple remote? Oh here it is in my jeans pocket.

I mean, I don’t actually know what’s the term for it so I just call it forever baby brain?


The boy is a mini version of me for sure. He is half me. While this post is focused on things that may look like bad temperament, rest assure my son is not an a bad child. I just like to self-deprecate for humour purposes.

I am sure he’s got some of mine and his dad’s good traits. Here’s hoping.

Hope you have a wonderful Easter break!

I’ll speak to you next week!






Top 10 things I did as new mother that I laugh about now

Photo Source: Google


I attended a Potty Training workshop last night, not for me, for my son. I pretty much nailed my own potty training thank you very much. My son, not so much.

The workshop lady was rude reminded us about the time when we first took our new born (or newborns) home.

Did we know what we’re doing? NO.

Did we figure it out? Eventually

Did we shed a tear or two over something so small? YES

Being a new parent with a new baby you haven’t met before it daunting. I know I am not alone in this, we all did something back then that we can honestly laugh about it now.

Let’s start


The first time I changed Bean’s onesie (at the hospital), he cried. I called the nurse straight-away and said in full panic, “I was just trying to change his clothes and then he cried so loud!”. Yup. He’s a newborn, of course he’ll cry.


I decided to put half a scoop of formula in a 25ml water because Bean may only need half of his 50ml top up. Yup. He got constipated instead. Never mess with formula measurement y’all. Make 50ml and feed him half of it. 


I found Bean looking too red and feeling too warm, he was only 4 weeks old. I rang HealthDirect because I thought he’s having convulsions. Nope. He’s overheating from 10 layers of clothes. Ok 3 layers.


While changing his nappy after our 3am feed, I decided to leave ALL lights off so I don’t wake him up. He sharted at my faceMy fault, I had to put my face too close.


The first time Bean slept through the night (7pm to 7am), I was up every 3 hours pacing around his bassinet. Is he OK? Does he need to eat? Should he eat? Why is he sleeping?


First time I clipped his nails, I clipped some of his skin too and he started bleeding. I cried for hours. I broke my baby. 


The second time he slept through the night, I was still up every 3 hours pacing around his bassinet. Yup. You think I’d learn?


The first time he got constipated (from that formula incident), I was coaching him (a 5 day old baby), as if he’s a woman in labour. Push baby push. It’s ok, breathe breathe, now push baby push.


The first vomit he’s ever done (just a few hours old) came out of his mouth and nose while asleep next to me in the hospital. I pretty much called CODE BLUE to the entire nursing team. Dramatic.

TEN: (my favourite)

When Bean was only a few days old, we rushed him to Emergency Department because he was sleeping for 4 hours straight. Yup. He was fine. We are absolutely out of our minds thinking is he dying? Why is he sleeping this long?

I guess it comes with the parenting package, the worry and panic. The first 4 weeks are the most nerve wracking but it did get better and now he’s 3!

Do you have any of these moments? I am sure you do too!

It’s hump day!




ps. yes i love Kirsten Wiig. If my life is made to a movie, I want her to play me. Ignore the fact that I am asian.

Parenting Style


Photo Source: Buzzfeed and the Internet. LOL

I don’t know when, but I was asked before about my Parenting Style.

Heeeeeyy. I haven’t seen you here before. Is that your son? OMG,  he’s sooooooooo cute! Are you Asian? OMG, that’s sooo adorable. I love Asian!. Sooooooooooo, what is your parenting style? 

Possibly not a very accurate depiction of what really happened, but you get the picture. A well-meaning (I hope!) stranger asking me a personal question, at a park. As you do.

I find it too personal to be asking about someone’s parenting style. It’s like being asked if I am a folder or scruncher.

Was it a trick question? Who’s listening? Who wants to know?

I answered the well-meaning lady , “A little bit of everything really”. Which is possibly true.

But what the heck? Who answers like that? WHY DID I EVEN ANSWER IT? To be polite. I was raised to be polite. I was probably feeling some form of pressure to break the awkward silence too  and the fear of being kicked out of the park? 

She wasn’t too impressed with my answer. I am not sure because my allegiance to one parenting style is not established? Does she know something I don’t about my parenting style? Maybe because I didn’t ask her back, What about you? What’s your parenting style. 

Maybe I should have just answered, “I refuse to answer on the grounds that I may incriminate myself”

I don’t want to be in a conversation about how parenting should really be, in a public place, with complete strangers, so I chose World Peace. 

Playback my answer: “A little bit of everything really”

Arrggghhh.. CRINGE.

If I were to answer it today, I would say…….

Not that it’s your business, but I follow a very PRAGMATIC approach to parenting. I do what works best for my family.

Yes, I breastfed my child.

Yes, I gave him formula too.

Yes, I did controlled crying when I needed him to understand boundaries.

Yes, I cuddle him a lot. ( I mean A LOT)

Yes, I do time-outs. 

Yes, I praise him a lot.

Yes, I shout at my kid too (I mean, who doesn’t? Introduce me to someone who has not yelled at her/his kid ever, I want to know the secret to perfection too).

Yes, I let my child sleep in his room on his own

Yes, I co-sleep too.

Yes, I give him milk in the middle of the night.

Yes, I nag him about asking for milk in the middle of the night.

Yes, I laugh at my kid


Yes, I display authority (I am the boss most of the time)

Yes, I let him win too. What would you like for snack, banana or apple? This kind of winning.

Yes, I question myself, for the decisions I make.

I mean, parenting is personal. It’s customised to the family’s needs, values, beliefs, etc. I don’t think it’s a topic to discuss with strangers. I personally think there is no right or wrong way. It’s only ” what’s right for your family” way.

The shaming that happens when one parent disagrees with another parent’s parenting style is not something I’d like to get involved with. No one should really shame anyone about their parenting styles. It’s a waste of bloody time.

The Judging bit is inevitable. We’re human. We judge when we don’t understand. I am guilty of this! Once you’re in that same situation, the one you judged, I am pretty sure you will feel like a dick bad for judging at all. I was the perfect parent of a toddler until I had a toddler myself.

Why not discuss each other’s achievements and our little parenting successes instead of shaming and judging other parents’ parenting style.

Why not have an open mind to people’s individual choices and praise each other for job well done.

Why don’t we encourage each other to be happy for our choices?

Discussions with other parents on how you parent should be a healthy discussion and not a debate. No flags of “I am better than you” should be waved. Don’t be a dick.

Everyone is entitled to their opinions. Sure. But it doesn’t mean you need to force it to be the only case of truth (or norm).

We all have one goal, and that is to raise decent human being who will (hopefully) change the world for the better.

Other people’s choices on how they parent their child is theirs to own, and not yours to worry about unless it has a direct effect to your child’s well-being. Save your worries on “real things to be worried about”.

We should be building a community together. We should helping out each other.We should be encouraging each other.

PS, I am a folder! LOL

Hope you the start of the week has been good for you!







Living with a Threenager



Bean is not even 3 yet. Nope. Just like when he started the “Terrible Twos” stage, he wasn’t close to being 2. The child is in a hurry. We (the parents), on the other hand, are in this bumpy journey with no seatbelts on.

I read a funny article last night. It’s called Secret Diary of a Threenager. If it wasn’t for the pronouns used, I would have assumed Bean wrote it. If he can actually type his thoughts. Totes.

I didn’t even think of the word Threenager until last night. I thought we were just having a bad 2 weeks. And now it all make sense.

NO is the usual response to everything

“What do you want for breakfast?”, NO!

And getting dressed? Goodluck! It’s like skinning a live chicken with 8 legs. I swear it’s almost like that movie where the child was possessed and walking backwards down the stairs… yeah that movie.

Breakfast is no longer a meal that he likes to partake in

I mean who needs breakfast these days? TODDLERS! Everyone really. Think of having a hungry toddler in the morning. yeah, how beautiful of a morning is that.

No food is ever edible anymore. Even the usual faves are now just “yucky”.

Cutlery, Cups and Plates

Don’t you dare give him the wrong colour of everything. Dont.you.dare.

The Delays

Houston we have a problem and Bean would still say “Two minutes”. He is in the delaying tactics. He would find means to delay going to bed, bath, in the car, out of the car.. You name it, there is a way to delay.


We are in this in-between stage of no-longer-needing-a-nap and he-is-too-tired-he- REALLY-needs-a-nap.

If we skip a nap for the day, then we will have to deal with how GRUMPY he is. Nothing will tickle his fancy to get through that “I’m really tired but I don’t want to nap”. Not even a movie! The good part about committing to no naps is bedtime is much more on schedule.

If we manage to get him to take a nap (no matter how short), he will NOT sleep around his bedtime. The other night, we were up until 10pm!

The “I am hungry but I don’t like to eat anything”

This is us.

My tummy is hurting mummy. I am hungry mummy.

You go present the child with some food and he declares that he doesn’t like it. Nothing in you pantry is good enough. nothing. And according to the child, the only thing that will get him through hunger is the ONLY thing you don’t have in your pantry. Like say, Popcorn, which we don’t buy all the time, but because he found that one thing that we don’t have, then yup, it’s totes legit, he wants it.

Food Presentation

Suddenly, I am now being judged by my almost three year old on my presentation. It feels like My Kitchen Rules in my dinner table all the time.

No crust, perfect triangles, oh there’s a hair! (his hair), the rice touched the meat, where is the sauce?!, I don’t like sauce, the carrot look ugly, the rice is too white.

I mean.

The WHYs

I don’t mind this because he stops at a point when he is satisfied with my answer. I haven’t used the line “because I said so” yet but it doesn’t mean I won’t. Right now I am still all a-matter-of-fact.

I don’t like the bit where you are still mid sentence answering the first WHY and he’s onto the next WHY. 

Here’s a favourite (not), THE MELTDOWN

Usually for no real reason.

I asked, “would you like the TV on while mummy makes breakfast?”. MELTDOWN. 

I don’t understand.

I bought new shoes for him. MELTDOWN.

When it’s the same exact shoes as he has now only in a bigger size.

I gave him room temperature water. MELTDOWN.

I replaced it with cold water. MELTDOWN.

Note that these meltdowns are usually accompanied by fake cries too.

What do I do? I used to say “What’s wrong now?” but I’ve changed it to “When you’re ready for it, come tell me” and I move on to the next thing that will make the child lose his shit. Because you know, that’s my main purpose in life, to annoy my child.


This is a very trying time. Our Daily routine is in complete shock, not that I have a strict routine anyway but still it’s in shock.

The cuddles after the meltdowns are amazing. It would have been sweeter if we didn’t have to deal with fake cries though.

But I guess, this too shall pass.

I swear, I just figured him out in his Terrible Twos yesterday and now we’re here, Threenager. The struggles are real.

In saying that, I love that he’s normal. LOL.

I do have a lot of things to love about this stage though. I love that my conversations with him is almost like an adult one. We talk about the weather. We talk about our days and what we have done. We talk about dreams. We talk about holidays. We sure do talk about Poop and all its shapes and sizes.

I love how caring he’s become (when he’s in the mood). He would ask if I wanted a drink before dinner or if he can pass me the rice. He would hand me my towel after I shower at night. He would put covers on me before we read books in his bed. He asks me if I am happy or if I am sad. He will hug me when I am sad. He kisses me in the morning and before bed. He kisses me whenever. He will tell me he miss me. He saves me a piece of chocolate and pappadums all the time. I mean the child is very sweet. 

So I guess it all balances out.

To all mummies and daddies of Threenagers, WE GOT THIS! We’re in this together!

To all mummies and daddies of younger toddlers/babies, This is your future.

It’s all fun and tears, but it’s worth it.

Just write a blog like this and then when your children have their own kids, make them read it. LOL.

Tell me if you’re also living with a Threenager.

I know I am not alone.

Hope you had a beautiful weekend!