Meet Little A (1)

I wanted to write something today, and since this blog is mostly about me, this seems like the best place to do it.

I am Little A. I am almost 15 months old. Here is a list of things I like and don't like right now:

I like:

- water. Splashing, swimming, drinking. Puddles, faucets, ponds and pools, anything liquid will do.

- climbing. Walking and running are okay now. I don't fall so much anymore, so the next challenge is stairs. I am practising as often as I can, and always hold someone's hand going up or down, but if no one is there I use my hands to help get up safely. Lately I have successfully been climbing chairs and the tv stand. All that is left are the bed and the bathtub.

- books. No one has to read them to me, I like the pictures, but when mom or dad tells me what's on the pages that's fine too. They have boring books with no pictures. The covers are interesting to look at though.

- Baby Einstein and the Little Einsteins. I watch 2 or 3 of these a day. I pick a dvd and mum or dad plays it for me, though I am figuring out how to operate the dvd players already.

- mummy's milk. She keeps trying to give me yucky cup milk. I drink it sometimes but don't like it as much as hers.

- tasting things. I lick everything because things taste different. Mum and Dad don't like it when I eat paper, plastic and rubber, though.

- fresh air and wind. Mum and I play outside a lot in the day, except when she says it's too hot or raining. If I was strong enough to open the doors though, I would still play outside in the sun and rain.

Things I don't like:

- grass. It's prickly and weird on my feet. I will walk anywhere but don't like grass much at all.

- loud, crowded places. When mom and dad bring me to parties, I don't like staying inside the party room for very long.

- people who try to hug or carry me, especially when I don't know them. If I like you, I will play with you, but you need to give me time to get used to your face first. If you just grab me I will push you away or reach for my mum or dad.

That's it for now. I'm going to play.

Working Girls

In the 80s, there was a film starring Melanie Griffith called Working Girl, which in my opinion tried to be the female equivalent to Michael Douglas and Charlie Sheen's Wall Street. Working Girl was about a secretary trying to climb the corporate ladder. In those days, it was all about the high-powered career - making deals, raking in money, living lavishly.

I admire women who have built their corporate careers. While I did join the so-called rat race for close to a decade, all I had was a series of jobs.

The term "career" implies staying power, starting at the bottom and working up to the top, or as close as one can get to it, of a particular industry. People have careers in finance, IT or whatever. My employment history is a hodgepodge of work experience across different industries. I started off in corporate banking (to get business experience, as very few big corporations would hire an Interdisciplinary Studies graduate), moved to financial services, then to retail, while moonlighting in events management and teaching, and then ended my "corporate" life to date with a stint in IT services (mobile communications sector).

Hardly a career-making history. No doubt the Interdisciplinary Studies part of me wanted to try different things and see where I could fit in, and while there was one job I truly loved, the practicalities of daily living meant I needed to go where the money was better.

And yet, it was when I quit the jobs that I seem to have found my career path.

Motherhood and the Working Woman

The whole nature versus nurture argument has many sides to it, but since females are the carriers of children, it seems we are predestined to have a career in motherhood, which itself is a lifetime thing. Whether one has a corporate job or career on the side, the womb has a stronger pull. A sick child means automatically means taking the day off work or staying up all night, or flying home from a business trip. Likewise with parent-teacher conferences, school programs, sports days and the like. Fathers can choose whether or not to take part in these activities, but mothers do not have that luxury.

There is very sad news lately about babies in China developing kidney stones from contaminated milk powder. Most of the mothers of these children are farmers who have no choice but to feed their babies powdered milk because fresh milk may be more expensive or less readily available, and manual labour makes breastfeeding impossible.

Certainly many women need to supplement the family income. In my husband's office, majority of his co-workers are mothers. They earn good wages and can take pride in being recognized as formidable financial figures, but there is no doubt in my mind that when they think of their responsibilities, their children and household running fall above making deals and number crunching.

Motherhood is a career unto itself, as every mother knows, although it doesn't bring the financial benefits of a 9 to 5 job. The compensation for work well done is seeing a child mature into a responsible adult, a person who cares for others and has the right values. This is infinitely more rewarding than a paycheck, as children raised properly become tomorrow's world leaders. Mothers of the world, give yourselves a well-deserved pat on the back.

The Rising Cost of Living

Up, up and away. Fuel prices, food prices, the sky's the limit these days. My average monthly grocery bill for the past 6 months is nearly double what it was a year ago, but the amount of meat and vegetables purchased monthly has only increased by about 30%. Granted, before Little A was born, we didn't have a daily girl to feed, nor did I have all my meals at home as I have been doing since, but every trip to the supermarket lately sees prices of basic commodities rising.

As a single-income family, my role is to budget our expenses and make sure we stay within reasonable limits. While my husband's job seems impressive, the pay is not at all what people expect when they hear the name of the prestigious bank he works for, and we do have to live as frugally as possible to make ends meet. No expensive holidays or unnecessary purchases, and it was only after much discussion that we purchased a second, and secondhand, car this year.

Value for Money

I am by nature a bargain hunter. In the days BB (Before Baby) my favourite haunts were secondhand bookshops, where I found many a wonderful treasure, from out of print titles to nearly new books that made great presents. Big A and I have not seen a movie in the cinema for maybe 3 years, opting to wait until the DVD comes out or the film makes it to the small screen. While gift shopping is my weakness, I only buy things on sale, or after making sure I've gotten the best price for my purchase. (I'd like to think I'm not a cheap gift giver though, as my presents are always personalised.)

Likewise with groceries. We shop at 3 different supermarkets because certain things are cheaper at one than another, or not available at all. Kitchen towels and table napkins come from one supermarket, where their own brand of paper products is well-priced and of great quality. Meat and vegetables come from another, though we don't sacrifice our health as I buy good cuts of more expensive meat, believing it's better to eat healthier than pay for heart surgery later. Nappies and other staples come from a third supermarket, the one nearest our home. 

I've long since stopped buying fabric conditioner, and have spent the past year finishing off free samples of beauty products that have accumulated in a drawer over the years, meaning there has been no need to purchase shampoo, conditioner or shower gel for a while. Still, despite these "cost cutting" measures, the monthly supermarket bills have continued to go up.

Hand to Mouth

Despite our frugal lifestyle, there are always blessings to be counted. Our health is the most important factor, so costly vaccines are factored into the budget as needed. A detailed spreadsheet of our expenses to date shows us where there is room to relax and when we have to tighten our belts. Gifts from our families are welcomed - my mother and sisters have pretty much supplied Little A with all the toys, books and clothes he needs for the meantime, and my in-laws like to send batches of pre-cooked food every 2-3 weeks, which makes a change from the dishes our daily girl can make.

We are better off than most. Some people are not lucky enough to have a roof over their heads or food to put on their tables thrice a day. We do know how fortunate we are, and my husband always finds a way to help out those near us who need it most. Our failed experiments in giving Little A formula and vitamins have resulted in the building gardener's children being the recipients of full cans (save one scoop from each) of formula that cost more than some people's weekly wages, and Little A's excess birthday presents were passed on to our daily girl's two nephews. In these hard times, we need to look out for each other as best as we can.

Social Death

The saddest thing about full-time motherhood is that you don't have a social life for a while. This period can last as long as 2-3 years, til the little one is in preschool. Among my fellow mothers, though, I don't know anyone who really felt the social death apart from myself as everyone has nannies or lives with or close to their parents.

While fatherhood certainly added to the burden on my husband's shoulders in terms of finances, his life has remained pretty much the same except for the 12 hour workdays cutting into golf and happy hour time. When he wants to, he can still have a drink with friends or spend the day diving or on the golf course. More often, he chooses to spend the time with us, but that is a choice and not an inevitability.

I, on the other hand, have not done anything truly social in 14 months. I've had people over for tea and lunch, but only understanding friends and fellow mothers. Two evenings spent at single friends' housewarmings and a Halloween party were cut short as Little A got sleepy, and one Christmas dinner with friends was spent with my husband and I alternating holding Little A and eating, while the other one we didn't bother going to at all. The friend I used to have lovely monthly lunches with for 3 years has all but given up on me, and last week I RSVP'd no for myself but yes for my husband to attend a friend's wedding. I could have asked my parents to babysit and gone the wedding, as my sisters so often do with their kids, but decided not to, as for one thing, Little A isn't fully weaned yet, and the reception would cut into his bedtime.

When wishing a fellow mother a happy birthday a few weeks ago, she replied by texting, "Let's go out sometime. It's not healthy for you to be with Little A 24/7!" Sigh. It probably isn't, and I do want Little A to get used to being without me for longer than an hour at a time, but as my husband says time and time again, as Little A gets older, he'll only want to spend more time away from us, so we should make the most of the time he wants to spend with us while it lasts.

My social activities of the past year have been limited to christenings and children's parties. There have been plenty of both though, and this weekend starts another round. And if our family does end up relocating, (Big A is being considered for an overseas post) then at least I'm used to staying home with Little A, as I will do there until new friends are made.

Instant Gratification

We live in a time when patience seems to be going the way of the dinosaurs. Nowadays, people rarely have to wait for anything. With the click of a button you can make a purchase, pay a bill, send a note and read its reply. Cable television and the Internet mean that research can be done without leaving your seat and that there is never a shortage of mindless entertainment.

Don't get me wrong - I'm all for advancements in technology, but there's something to be said for the slowdown of the good old days. Back when a journey from A to B only happened by horse-drawn carriage or a voyage over sea, waiting was a fact of life, and the pace of that life was much less frenetic than it is today. More recently, I remember what it was like to hope that today's post contained a letter from home, one with news in it that was two to three weeks old by the time I'd torn it open and read the handwritten pages. It saddens me to think that my son may never write a "real" letter or even know what a stamp looks like. This is why it feels like Christmas when a parcel arrives from his godmothers in Finland and Edinburgh.

While I love the convenience of online bills payment and rejoice that email makes keeping in touch with my overseas friends so much easier, shopping is still more of a pleasure when I can see, smell or try on the item before paying for it. Sitting in traffic still drives me crazy, as does waiting in line at the supermarket checkout counter, but maybe that's because I've gotten used to life's frenetic pace, and that's not necessarily a good thing.

Studies done in the 1960s with children and marshmallows indicate that those with higher levels of patience seem to turn out better off than those who without. Looking at my sleeping son now, I wonder what his life will be like in twenty or so years when cars may fly and travel may consist of just thinking of your destination. Will the phrase "The best things in life are worth waiting for" still apply? We'll have to wait and see.

Road Trip

Last week, we went on our first long road trip. While people in cold countries long for the tropics, those of us who live too near the equator flee to cooler climes on our holidays. Big A, Little A and I spent six days in Baguio City, the Philippines' so-called summer capital, up in the mountains where there are pine trees and fog.

Note how I call this a road trip as opposed to a vacation, as the latter connotes rest, relaxation and spending plenty of time doing next to nothing. The trip was a vacation - for my daily girl. She got a much-needed break from cooking and cleaning up after Little A's meals, and was able to give our little flat the through clean it badly needed. Big A was down to his last week off work (he had 3 weeks' holiday and spent about a week going to job interviews, a couple of days playing golf and the rest sitting at home in front of the tv and occasionally playing with his son) and was the designated driver on the 5 hour journey there and back. A new highway had recently opened and this cut down driving time by an hour, but also meant we missed out on the chance to eat at our favourite roadside restaurant.

I had my usual responsibility of looking after Little A, and without my daily girl had to do more cleaning up after him than usual. However, I did enjoy the change from home cooking, as the arrangement at the country club we stayed at was that the rooms were "free" provided every guest spent a certain amount per day in food and drink at the club's many dining establishments. 

As Little A is at the stage where he likes to feed himself, (i.e. - attempting to put food into his mouth with his hands and spilling much of it on himself, his chair and the floor) we had to order plenty of room service. My husband quickly established a routine (with the help of a few big tips) whereby the room service or housekeeping staff would wash Little A's food tray after each meal while I hosed him down and then cleaned up spilled food from the high chair and the floor. 

The cool mountain air and change from home cooking did wonders for my little boy's appetite, and he ate ravenously at each meal, to my delight. As I am on a weight gain plan, I ate ravenously too. Big A got to play some golf, but a storm midweek meant the course was closed for a couple of days, so he used the rest of his time to bond with his son, the highlight of our week. They ran around the grounds, built Lego towers and knocked them down and we visited a couple of our favourite places, including the butterfly garden where Big A asked me to marry him nearly 3 years ago.

All in all, it was a good trip. We discovered that Little A could tolerate a fairly long car journey provided he wasn't made to stay in his car seat the whole time, (he does so obediently in the city, strangely enough) which suggests that maybe a long plane ride in the future won't be so difficult to manage. 

Weaning-wise, though, we seem to be slipping back. Maybe it was the cold weather, but Little A mostly refused the cold milk in his sippy cup or bottle and preferred it warm from my body. He did, however, eat a lot of good food. So the first few weeks at home will be dedicated to re-weaning, though I have been reading lately that dairy isn't the best thing and as I am lactose intolerant, wonder if Little A might be better off with soy, rice or almond milk versus cow's. Must go and read more on that now.

Home Sweet Home

Perspective is a funny thing. Before my husband and I were married, we lived in a large one-bedroom flat in the city centre. He walked to work, I worked from home, the shopping mall was about 50 steps away and so were many of the happening nightspots. It was the perfect place for a young couple to live.

As soon as we were engaged, my parents suggested we move into a bigger flat in the newest residential/commercial area of the metropolis. Right outside the financial district, it is like a suburb in the city. There's a shopping centre nearby, but no skyscrapers and less noise pollution and smog. The flat is in a building overlooking a golf course, guaranteeing plenty of fresh air. It was the perfect place for a young family to live.

This flat had been purchased by my dad a few years ago as part of a business transaction and took longer than expected to finish, but it was done by late 2005. With our wedding date set for January, 2006, Big A and I went to see the place to consider the move, as we knew it would be a better place to live in once we had a child.

My first impression was that, for a two bedroom flat, it was awfully tight. Despite having another bedroom, a study, bigger kitchen, utility area and a maid's room, the total floor area was only double that of the one-bedroom apartment we were currently renting.

Still, since there would be bills to pay (relatively steep monthly association dues which on top of our rent would mean no money left to pay for anything else, like food or electricity) we decided to move. After some minor renovations and going into credit card debt to furnish the place, (as the one-bedroom had come fully furnished) we moved in.

Strangely enough, once it was furnished, the new flat seemed bigger somehow. Except for the lack of storage space that is common to most apartments, (which we tried to solve by having more closets and shelves built and disposing of as many unnecessary possessions as we could) the flat was big enough to lose each other in. We were no longer within shouting distance of one other - if I was in the kitchen with the door closed and the exhaust fan on, there was no way I would hear my husband calling me from the bedroom.

When Little A came along, we were glad to have the fresh air, outdoor podium area with swimming pools and playground and the second room to put all his toys in. While he does get cabin fever at times (don't most babies?), he has more than enough room to crawl and walk and throw his balls about. When he runs from one room to another and I'm busy picking up after him, it sometimes takes 2 or 3 minutes to find him again. Just last night I was searching the different rooms and found him standing in the back corner of the shower in a dark bathroom.

My husband is currently being interviewed for a potential job in Hong Kong. If that happens, we pack up and move to what is likely to be a much smaller apartment, Hong Kong being the 6th most expensive city to live in in the world, from what I've read lately.

Suddenly, what once seemed like a too-tight apartment with not enough space for all our belongings is like an oasis, and it makes me sad to think of leaving it. Truly, home is what you make of it, and there really is no place better.