My baby fell and I cried!

They say that a little bump on the head is normal for babies. Babies get curious as they become more mobile. But as mothers, we want to be as protective as we could that that little bump on the head won’t happen to our little ones.

My baby is almost 9 months old and she is really a fast crawler. She likes crawling especially towards me and I’m ok with that of course. She’s always excited to jump out of me and have mom-baby bonding after long hours she didn’t see her mummy.

So this is really fresh… As I’m writing this, my baby has a swollen lips because she dived out the bed. I don’t know what to do or think at that moment. I’m blaming myself for what happened. I should’ve all eyes and ears to my baby. What the hell happened?

I want to get together and stay calm. Her lips was bleeding as she was wiping it against my shirt. My shirt has all her blood and that made me feel worse. I’m bad mother, I told myself.

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Countdown Is Fun!

We always have countdowns in our lives. We might not literally counting ‘em until it hits 1 like how we explicitly do during New Year’s Eve, but we are breathing in and out every seconds until we reach the end or goal. One perfect example is
when I do exercise. I have set my time up to 25 minutes of intense workout. My motivation is the countdown when it hits the 24-minute mark.

Countdown applies to events that have end time. If we know it will end, we’ll look forward to it and this can bring emancipated enthusiasm on what the outcome would be. Maybe not the outcome, but perhaps the idea of ending it.

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Postpartum Look

I still have a postpartum look. I define this look as very similar to i-don’t-care-how-i-look-like-i-just-had-a-baby kind of attitude. Its like everything that seems wrong, the response will always be “I just had a baby.”

Why your hair is a mess?

I just had a baby!

Why you look so exhausted?

I just had a baby!

Why you’re uglier than before? (That’s harsh)?

I just had a baby!

What I’m trying to say is – I made having a baby as an excuse not to take care of myself or in a blunt way, not to mind how I look physically.

It’s a postpartum thing.

My baby is almost 9 months old and here I am still convincing myself that I’m battling with postpartum. Postpartum is supposed to last six weeks. Mine just had an overrun.

It’s not that bad actually. But most of the time, I don’t feel good about myself. I don’t like the clothes I wear. My hair is all over the place. And I’ve repeating the same set clothes every week, some of which are maternity clothes. I haven’t move on with those clothes. They are too comfty.

Before giving birth to my little one, I gained 17 kgs. I don’t want to mention that my pre-pregnancy weight was a little over the ideal, but what is trouble. No one can guess what are the numbers were, unless you’re my gyneacologist. Or maybe she cannot remember too because she is too thin to care.

From that 17, I still have 3 kgs to lose. This only means that if I was fat during the pre-pregnancy, I should be proud to call myself fatter today, at this very moment.

It was very kind of my husband to tell me that I have gained those for 9 months. Maybe it will make me feel better to think that I can lose them on the same duration. It makes sense. But it is the 9th month already and I’m not even close.

This postpartum look has offended my heavily guarded self-esteem for a couple number of occasions. Few months ago, I met up with my friend who’s going to get married and chose me to be one of her bridesmaids. Well, I’m okay with that. I became a bridesmaid before – no harm doing it again. It slipped my mind that, again, I just had a baby and I’m pretty sure I’m in bad shape to be in a bridesmaid’s dress. No worries. I still have time. So I met her at the modiste’s shop to have my body measured. While measuring, I was praying that she won’t make any comments about how big-boned I am or she needs a longer tape measure. And it blipped and asked me specifically, “Are you pregnant?” And you know my response already, “I just had a baby!”

Another incident was in the train, while I was standing silently and listening to Adam Levine’s Animals, a teenager approached me and was offering the priority seat. If you must know, priority seats are for old people, disabled and pregnant women. And I immediately refused and was about to explain I’m not pregnant and say “I just had a baby,” but I hold it back and cried in the inside instead.

These two occasions happened on the same day. It was truly a bad day!

My postpartum look is very much associated with my weight. I believe that everthing follows once those excessive fats have been trimmed. I will feel better wearing a UK 8 size dress and my happiness will surely show all over my face while wearing the confidence I took from that UK 8 size dress.

 

 

 

To Be Or Not To Be… A Writer

writerSally O’ Reilly’s How To Be A Writer struck my heart so deep and made me write every day on this blog. I didn’t read the book – I just had a glimpse of its introduction. One habit I have when I often encounter a towering shelf of books, I will pick the most interesting one, turn it over and read what the publisher’s marketing department says about the book, flip few pages, skip the foreword and acknowledgment, glance the table of contents and read the introduction.

And Sally O’ Reilly’s introduction is .. To Be or Not to Be…

I cannot remember when my fascination to the idea of becoming a writer started. Maybe there were moments I thought I was good in writing, but that was all it. I don’t have a massive creative idea that I can willingly share through writing. Or, maybe I just love the phrase, “writer’s block,” and I thought I have it for all these years, my entire life surely.

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Studying at your 30’s

studyingI chose not to remember those sleeplessness nights of my life when I was preparing for major exams at the university. I cannot even remember what I was reading during that time. The objectives were pass it, get a degree, find a job and everything will fall into places. What I just described is generally the quintessential of where life will bring. It is a little harder than I thought.

At 21, I already got my degree. For almost 10 years now, I’ve been working professionally as what I chose I will be, with a sophisticated desk, a phone and up-to-date computer. But one day, I found myself having sleeplessness nights again, not because of heavy partying… but again, studying.

Human nature. Discontentment. Culture.

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A New Beginning

For the first time, after my 7 years on-and-of attachment to blogging, I’m literally fulfilling the real meaning of “blog.” It was meant to mean as an online diary or journal, not an abridged news of HuffingtonPost or a collection of viral cat videos. However, when I started to get initiated with blogging, the only thing that matters to me was how I can make money out of it. This is also the same reason why after I had tons of blog, I’m still stuck to the idea I can make a living by simply writing rants about other people and was convinced that other people would care about those rants.

So, this is what I just did…

I deleted all my blog posts, all the ads, change to one-column template and start my journal with this post.

Blogging is continuously innovating and I honestly don’t know where it will be going. But hey, look at me, I’m going backwards. And who cares, I’m seriously doing this with a purpose.

So, what is it really… my purpose for doing this…

Every time I’m having a bad day at work, I always ask myself, “Is this really what I want to do with my life?” This is not about being lost and trying to find oneself. I’m more referring to what I should do professionally, that I will enjoy and I can tell myself I’m good at. And as I faintly asking myself, I will do something which I know I do best… leaving my questions unanswered.

What is really I want to do with my life?

This blog will be my tool to find the answers and I’m pretty sure that I’m the only one reading this blog. Perhaps one day, my husband, kids and friends will stumble to this site. Maybe they will love or hate it. When that time comes, I should’ve gotten my answer. But for now, this is still, considerably the beginning of everything.

XOXOXO
Char