Tears for fears...

Being pregnant has its perks.

For example, we’re currently in the middle of renovating the 2nd bedroom, and yesterday, the carpenters came to sort out the built in cabinet and study table. I had to endure the drilling, dust and heat. By the end of the day, I was sticky, irritable and very unhappy with the height of the open shelves and the overall workmanship.

I was close to tears and was on the verge of screaming to the 3 unassuming guys, but instead, I yelled at Homer over the phone. I was afraid that the carpenters are part of some mafia association (cos’ they do look like they belong to one) and since their supervisor whom is my main contact was not there, I thought it’ll be safer for me if I channel my anger to someone who understands how crazy I can get.

I was restless the whole night, roller coaster of emotions (at Homer’s expense), and this morning as the contractors came in to finish their work, I can see their amusement as they see all the yellow post-its all over the work they did yesterday.

As I begin my lecture on how things should be done and how I expect it to look like… tears began to well up .. the next thing I know I was babbling to 3 (really typical Chinese contractor with spiky hair and all) stunned workers on how this was meant to be the happiest room in the house with bright shelves, and soft toys for Bumpkin! I was millimeters away from crying and sobbing like a baby in front of strangers.

*presto*

Everything will be re-done, realigned, replaced .. re-whatever as per instructions by “perempuan mengandung gila”

.. well, as long as it serves to meet the ends..

Perhaps it was just the near tears thing.. I should really take advantage of this.. hehehe…

-manipulative-L

She ain't heavy.. she's my mother!

Sometimes I feel like my mum’s mission of life is to make me feel bad about myself. You see, me and my mum has this intense relationship. We can be the chummiest of friends one minute, and the other we’d be at each other’s throats.

Don’t get me wrong, she’s always been there for me and God knows she makes us laugh with her classic antics. Like her famous Yoko Yoko incident, where she mistakenly used yoko yoko (muscle relaxer roll on ointment) on her underarms instead of her usual deodorant..

But when it comes to criticisms, she is my worst nightmare, especially when it comes to my weight. I know that I am not overly obese, but I did gain some weight after a few years of living on and off as an expat’s wife. And she LOVES egging me on how I need to exercise more, cut down on fatty foods.. yadda, yadda. It doesn’t help that she is paper thin and fits in my clothes that I wore during high school!

The thing is, she only does it to us.. her children. I mean Homer morphed from somewhat lean steak to full fat chunk of beef, and still get praises from my mum on how great he looks! WTF??

Today, I was close to tears when she said I would most likely keep almost 10 kilos after I give birth cos she can’t see me losing that much weight. I’ve only gained 7-8 kilos so far! Then comes the double chin exercise talk and how I have to start doing bicep curls since they’re looking a bit flabby.

I know.. I know.. she means well. Probably one of her mysterious way of saying, “You can lose the weight.. I know you can..” But it drives me nuts.

Note to self, go back to parent’s place ONLY when Homer is with you. At least, Homer will be there to calm your nerves.

-Big-L

Wax on, wax off..

Warning: Do not continue reading if you find bodily hair (in particular, the strip down there) talk offensive and/or distasteful.

The tummy has been growing at a tremendous rate that I didn’t even realize I can no longer see anything below the belly standing up. And so, being the ever vain-pot (more so now that I am preggios), I am in constant aspiration to make everything look good and pretty.

To my dismay, I found myself in a situation where I am unable to take care of myself “down there”. Imagine, without your sense of sight, would you trust yourself with a pair of scissors, maneuvering your way around the valley-of-loooveee?? Even tried using the mirror, but for f*#k’s sake, my hand-eye coordination have been somewhat lacking, especially coming up to my 8th month of pregnancy!

And so, I resorted to calling Homer, who was watching TV. His reaction : Rolling on the floor laughing like a hyena …

Hmmph, I guess I just have to steel myself up, grit my teeth and go for that waxing saloon as suggested by Mama-Mido (formerly known as Brave-Lawyer-Gal).

-beauty-is-pain-L

Girls night out.

Bumpkin's first concert is all about 4 (ahem!) Ladies drooling over hottie Marcell and suave Glenn. What can I say? Marcell, the lean, tattoed guy in black tank top, with moves to match just makes me want to run up to him and plant a big kiss. The only thing stopping me from doing it is how it'll look in case someone decides to take a snapshot of that scene. I can almost see the headline for it, "Crazy Pregnant Woman Mobs Marcell!"

And Glenn almost made me cry when he sang Januari , *sigh* and for all the beautiful performances, I shall forgive him for saying "it's hurt..." (I don't really gel with bad grammar..)

And so finally after recovering from Marcell's wedding photos, by consoling myself with the fact that the wife may not be that pretty underneath all those make up. I decided that it is time to take out the leather whip and get Homer in shape, and perhaps send him for some dance classes? The problem is, what are we going to do with the facial hair? Homer's facial hair growth is a mile apart! Maybe we can pencil them in... Muahahahaha!

-i-am-so-mean-to-homer-L

Is it really Thursday?

Homer's hair stayed put throughout the day and even survived Yanti-soon-to-be-a-Flamenco dancer's birthday do. Yes, all thanks to his new Super Hard hairgel.

So, Homer has really adapted to his schedule in KL, including all the mini breaks during work. You know, those mamak breakfast, coffee-coffee and teh tarik breaks. And moi? Still muddling around, lazing about ... been meaning to clean up my wardrobe, but I've only managed to clear 1 suitcase since coming home.

This "nesting" instinct that all the preggo literature speaks about is a double edged sword. It's been said that you get this urge to just clean up the house in preparation for the baby, but what it fails to elaborate on (at least for me) is that, you have a "vision" of the cleaning process and how it'll look like, but you may not have the energy to actually get to finish the project and end up with piles of clothes strewn across the room, making it more like a tongkang pecah than an organised closet with more space for Homer's clothes.

-arrggghhhh-L!

Is this really a pharmacy?

As I browsed the aisles looking for that specific “item”, I saw Homer motioning to me that he found it.

Our options are as follows –

Hard
Super Hard
Wet
Wet and Hard
Wet and Super Hard

I asked Homer to just pick one because I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

We’ll let you know how this “item” works out tomorrow… hehehehe..

-what-names-will-they-think-of-next-L

Home sweet home..

We’re baaccckkkkkk!!

It’s only been about a week, but everything seems to fall back right on place. That’s the beauty of coming home. Okay, I’m still getting used to the morning traffic (because someone just have to be chauffeured to work..) but give me a week, it’ll all come back to me.

I still haven’t seen all my friends and aunts but I’ve gotten my hands on most of the juicy gossips, that’s what’s important, right??

On the “bump” front, I’m getting mixed responses. My friends (God bless their hearts) says I am looking great with the tummy, my mum on the other hand laughed her head off because she finds the “protrusion” extremely weird and just could not fathom my pregnancy style; i.e. “flaunt it when you’ve got it..” . My brother J, asked me to bellow, “HO,HO,HO..” so he can see if the belly will shake like jelly.

Oh, did anyone catch the National Geographic’s “In the womb” documentary? I did last night, and I’m still having flashbacks on the birth scenes. Homer kept saying, “close your eyes..” but I just couldn’t. Its like a crash scene, you want to look away but you just couldn’t. My eyelids were just glued open, mouth agape....

Oh, Bumpkins… what have we gotten ourselves into???

Well, what comes in must come out right?

-HELP-me-L

We're readyyy..

I thought I had everything planned out. Freeze some bolognaise sauce and spaghetti; as you switch off the fridge the morning they came to pack, take the containers out and let them thaw. Remind the packers to pack the microwave last. (L, you're just SOOOO organized.. pats on back!)

As lunch time approaches, pop the containers in the microwave and voila, you have a nice hot-homecooked meal, without having to leave your house, and racking your brains on what to eat.

Aaaahhh.. can you smell the meat sauce?

WTF????

Those little overzealous packers have packed everything.. including the drawer filled with plastic cutleries and wooden chopsticks .. (yes, I'm one of those who keeps take away cutleries, so sue me!)

It's lunch time, I am hungry .. Do I really have a choice?

I swear, I heard the elves giggling as they see me eating spaghetti with my fingers... Even they had cutleries with them!

Anyhoooo.. We're good to go, everythings packed and we've checked into our favorite hotel, where Homer gets the king of treatments...

We're coming home... and probably having cakes at Alexis tomorrow evening.

-bye-bye-dubaiiiii-L

Help!

Homer and I now live amongst cardboard boxes, styrofoam pieces, bubble wraps and masking tapes.

You'd think we're at least halfway through packing. N-O, sir-reee. We've barely scratched the surface. I'm afraid that I may turn mad tomorrow .. and guess what, Homer's leaving me in the morning to tie up some loose ends with the bank and office.

I suddenly feel sorry for those 4 packers coming tomorrow. Let's hope that they are perfect little elves that are really "the careful movers" as they say they are.

Bloody shit, how the hell did I manage to buy a whole new wardrobe full of preggo clothes? And not forgetting the rest of the stuff that I can no longer fit.

Homer, my dah-ling swee-tie pieeee... I'll be honest okay, we don't have space for your clothes. Yes, even in the 2nd bedroom.

-i-hate-packing-L