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!!

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!