angeline jane

Marissa wakes up at around 6am. Everyone knows it because she grumbles VERY loudly.

“Whoaaaaaaaaaa! Whoa whoa whoa whoa. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Mum ma mum ma mum ma. Boooooo ba. Boooooo ba. Boo ba boo ba boo ba boo ba boo ba. Ahmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.”

When I peep down into her cot with a 'good morning sweetpea' greeting she coos and smiles, half burying her beaming face beneath the blankets, all coy-like. I plonk Marissa on the bed beside me and she starts tugging Andrea’s hair. Andrea yells and in 2 minutes, both girls are awake. AT 6am.

My husband rolls his eyes and comment “These 2 should just go to work for us then the both of us can sleep in.”

I lie in bed for awhile with them wrestling each other, get up, settle milk for both the girls, grab breakfast then run a quick shower with the doors open so I can keep an eye on them. Luckily children love you unconditionally, no matter what they unwittingly see during my morning grooming rituals.

But then again, I got my wiggly bits because of them.

Apparently, Andrea now thinks my breasts make good puppets.

Last week, Andrea entertained Marissa by making each of my breasts speak to each other. She grabbed one boob, pulled it out of my shirt before I knew what she was doing and moved it up and down saying, “Hi there. What’s your name?” and then, she grabbed the other breast and moved it up and down and said, “My name’s Boob.”

And then she and Marissa thought my talking breasts were like the funniest thing they had ever seen and they laughed uncontrollably on the floor for the next 5 minutes. Actually Marissa probably didn’t know what the hell is going on, but laughed just because her sister is. Then Andrea begged me to let her do it again.

I declined. We're getting Andrea a real puppet theatre for her birthday. Obviously she needs one

You know how I blog about clothes and shoes and all things pretty for a fashionista. Yeah, see. How I look when I go out to the world and how I look at home are 2 entirely different planets. At home I wear rags and my secondary school PE t-shirt from more than 10 years ago. What’s the point really.

My kids are always on me. By "on me" I mean that my body is being used as a toddler playground/ultimate fighting ring. I am routinely kicked and climbed over and have objects launched at my head.

I wear nice dangly earrings to work everyday but promptly remove them before stepping in my home, stuffing them in the pockets of my dress. To my 7 month old, they are baby levers and pullies. I might look nice at 8am with my dainty drop earrings off-setting my nicely done hair, but by 5.30pm, my ear lobes are a bloodied torn mess and each child is clutching one earring in their thieving little hands.

Oh and necklaces. I don’t wear necklaces at all because they are not really pretty adornments meant to show off my bosom. No, necklaces, my children believe, are vines meant for monkeys to swing on and zoom through the jungle, pulling on Mommy’s back until my spine cracks and completely breaks apart from my body.

And there are the stains on my clothes. I can put on a perfectly clean outfit and within 10 minutes, Andrea will run into me with pommegranate juice, covering me in un-washable, forever-staining liquid or she’ll wipe her snotty nose on my pant leg or try to paint my ass yellow with a loaded paint brush and Marissa will blow cereal bubbles on my sleeve or dribble milk on my lap or vomit on the outfit that I have to change again for work.

So basically, at work I’m all nicely dolled up in dresses and accessories looking like how all teaching professionals should, but at home I’m a mighty mess.

Life of a mom. Gotta love it.

It’s probably a bit unusual to share this part of my birth story so long after the event, but I often think about it.

After I had given birth to Marissa, I was in the labour room waiting to be wheeled up to the ward, feeling darn satisfied that my birth was over. As I lay there basking in the glow of newborn Marissa, tiny, wrinkled and quiet, I could hear crying and just assumed a woman was having a hard time.

As I got wheeled out I noticed a man slumped on the floor, head in hands, he too was crying. On pressing my midwife, she said the woman in the room next to me was told, at 40 weeks pregnant, her unborn baby had no heartbeat. To make the situation even worse, she would still have to give birth.

My midwife insisted I forget it, push it out of my mind, that it was my day and to enjoy my new baby.

When we finally left the delivery suite, me in my bed, I smiled at a hugely pregnant lady approaching us. As she passed I noticed how miserable she looked then realised it was the lady I had heard crying in the corridor.

I actually felt bad for smiling at her. I noticed her looking at Marissa. I felt bad for that too.

As each month passed, I can’t help but think of what this woman is still going through, knowing she should have a 5-6-7 month old too. I can’t imagine having to go home and pack up the infants clothes and putting the baby items away.

I don’t think I will ever forget this.

I got distracted while doing my work. No actually, I don’t wear heels. Rarely anyway. But yes, I do need these.

* jeffrey campbell cutout heels via urban outfitters

I really wanna chop my hair all off. I miss having short hair. I don’t actually like long hair. I just keep it long because then it is not so obvious I didn’t comb my hair in the morning and went to work. Yes, I do that! But the last time I cut my hair short, (which was 2 years ago) it was so bad I had to live with a bad haircut for EIGHT months till I grew out of it. That’s the thing about having short hair, one disastrous snip and I look like Mr Potato Head.

Doesn’t she just look so sassy? I want that haircut, with that kind of layers. Is it so hard to find a hairdresser who can do the same cut here?


* pic via wiksten

For almost 15 years I was someone whom no one believed I would amount to anything much. When I was young, I did terribly at school. After O levels, I was that kid who had to work to see herself through school, not the kid whose parents paid for everything.

I never intended to get a degree. Who would see me through an overseas university? Tuition fees that equate to the amount one wins at Toto. My aunty did. She packed me off to Perth and I studied there for 2 years. She pushed me to do my honours but I disagreed, knowing I was a financial burden to her.

I left university 5 years ago. In 5 years, I have been at 2 jobs, one I currently love, gotten married, got a house, got a car, gotten myself 2 offsprings, all before I’m 30 years old. Life is great. We’re living comfortably. We’re happy. But what do I do? I ask for trouble. I apply to study again.

Come January, I will be a wife, mother, full-time lecturer, part-time grad student when I start my Masters in Applied Linguistics at NIE. It may not be a big deal to many. But it is to me. To pay for my own studies, support my family and work full-time. God has blessed me with my aunty, a kind compassionate soul whom without, I might really amount to nothing much. In hard times, she always told me “A baby comes out to the world crying and you think life is so easy?”

Even after I complete my Masters, I would not be anything great or someone to admire, but I do it to prove to myself. That even the condemned cases, do make good their lives. I have learned to love learning and the more I learn, the more I realise how little I know.

* pic via maluna

Now the word 'rad' actually exists ok. It means something fine or wonderful. It doesn't stand for how Ris Low pronounces the word red. I'm not trying to be funny here.



I want her look on me this instant. Isn't she beautiful? Her attire looks immaculate on her.

Oh, and I'll take her hair too.


* pic via copenhagen street style

Exit now if you're not a fan of my baby or of babies in general. Baby picture overload!



She can sit up on her own for a while. 



Look, mum! No hands!



I've got a new spacecraft and I'm not afraid to use it!

On a side note, Marissa's got a new habit she does at bathtime. She now sits in her tub of soapy water and when I'm done with her, I'll use the shower spray to rinse her. That's when she'll stick her tongue out to try and drink the water! 

Gah! Babies. 

My older daughter wants a Disney princess themed party for her 4^th birthday. She keeps bugging me about it. I keep selling her the idea that Dora the Explorer’s great too.

It’s the feminist in me that dislikes the “princess” syndrome. Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, The Little Mermaid, come on, they’re not real girls. They’re pale and skinny and they just sit there and sing, hoping for their prince to waltz down the yellow brick road and sweep them off their feet and live happily ever after in a castle. What is that teaching children today?

Now Belle is fine. She’s bookish, feisty and doesn’t pine after a man. I mean, if she can love a beast, talk about inner beauty. I know Mulan isn’t technically a princess but she’s the one Disney girl I would want my daughters to model after. Mulan shows that what a man does, a woman can do too. No gender stereotypes, great!

I dread when the day comes and Andrea asks for a Barbie doll. I imagine the conversation will go like this,

Andrea: Mummy, I want a Barbie doll.

Me: No, I can’t buy you that dear. I don’t agree with Mattel’s preconceived notions of how women should appear.

Andrea: Huh? What? So can I have the doll or not?

Me: I’m sorry babe, but I just feel Barbie gives you a false impression of how a woman should look like.

I think, I think too much.



* pic via maluna

When I first heard about Evolve’s Mixed Martial Arts I was quite skeptical. I’m really not an indoor sports person. I like the outdoors, I like the sun, trekking on gravel uneven terrain, pounding pavements for marathon training so seriously, how does someone exercise in an air-con room?

I googled their website. Oh my word. Their list of programmes are so extensive, I was so impressed! Muay Thai, Mixed martial arts, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, Boxing, Fitness Training, Self defense. I’d be sweating like a pig in their gym and beaten to a pulp. There’s even a children’s programme.

Now, I’ve asked Andrea several times when I see girls outside in their ballerina tutus, “Hey, do you wanna dress up like that and dance ballet? It’d be fun, no?” She gives me this look and says, “When I dance I’ll be all hot hot and the skirt looks so itchy itchy.” That’s it. I’ve raised a non-girly girl like myself. Evolve’s children’s programme is called a Little Samurai. Punchy.

You can check out Evolve here. If you’re interested in attending a free trial class with me, let me know!

My colleagues bought me a great gift for my birthday this year. Yes, Lyna and gang, I heart y’all! They bought me stationery in purple. They handed me a paperbag that was filled with purple pens, purple markers, purple highlighters, purple paper, purple calculator, purple hole puncher, purple files and a purple birthday card. It was in every different shade of Barney, lilac, lavender and violet. I loved it! It was beautiful and practical.

I’m a self confessed stationery geek. So whenever I come across an attractive stationery store like Prints or Urban Write, I go a little psycho. Imagine my reaction when I first found Kikki.K at ion. It is not only a stationery store. It’s a SWEDISH stationery store!

That’s like Ikea! And you know how we buy Ikea till the cows come home. This is like stationery Ikea!!! Only much much better.

I behaved like a child at Christmas high with sugar rush from candy canes, eyes darting back and forward, back and forward. I squawked with indignation whenever I overheard someone passing a remark that they don’t need a diary planner cos they have their blackberry or iPhone. Chey! Get out of the store then! I acted like a psychotic purist.

I tell you, I wanted to buy the entire store. I bought my 2010 diary (what, it’s November already ok), a file for my receipts and bills that I pay, post-its and pens. I kept talking to myself in my head “I want to buy all the pens, I want a pen, I need a pen.” Not like I don’t already have a hundred pens in my office and at home.

Alright, all you stationery geeks out there, one big collective sigh NOW!

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh… … …


 

Because I’ve been itching to do some baking, I finally got off my butt this weekend to make an old family favourite – curry puffs! It’s a very quick and simple recipe. Just 2 separate preparations, then mash them together - the pastry and the curry chicken potato filling. I like to put some carrots and peas in the curry filling as well so my kids get their veg intake. Andrea loves to help me in the kitchen and she’ll boast to everyone at home, “Mummy doesn’t know how to do it, so I have to help her.”

The smell that filled the house was so mouth watering. The curry puffs were all gone the second they came out of the oven. Wah, hot hot spicy spicy, damn shiok lah. My little girl loves the spiciness but drank tons of water along with it, while my 6 month old baby sat in a corner and sulked away.

          

I did something I shouldn't do yesterday. Something that could have resulted in serious consequences.

I ventured dangerously close to a Kate Spade boutique. In my own defense, I have tried with all my might to fight it. But the colourful candy bags and accessories sitting in the window display were beckoning to me.

My sole lifeline was that it was close to dinner time and I was running late meeting Debra. So I popped in for 2 minutes, my eyes nearly popping out with all that colour and left. Yes, without purchasing anything. Phew!

Then I went home and drafted this letter instead.


Dear Ms Spade,

I've been a fan of yours for a few years. I only have one question for you.

Why do you make such beautiful bags and accessories that are not only candy coloured but eye candy as well, then insist on charging the amount equivalent to my entire month of grocery bills?

Yours faithfully,
Angie

          


* Kudos to their graphic design and advertising team. These pictures look like so much fun!

I’m pushing 5 hours of sleep every night. Marissa really is a dream killer. Why does she have to look so cute? Well, at least she does to me. Then I wouldn’t wanna squish her and mash her with hugs and kisses even at 4am.

This is what I really need. My choice of liquids for a very trying week indeed. I need coffee in my blood stream like NOW.

         

I’m trying to increase my male readership by posting sexy lingerie. Wait, I’m supposed to include the sexy female models, not just the underwear! *slaps forehead*

Well then, I guess this is just for us girls. I love these pieces. I’m itching to get my hands on ‘em but save money, save money. I need to do some serious budgeting (holy-shit-Christmas-is-like-tomorrow), set aside money for presents, remember to play Santa.
 

* Victoria's Secret lace satin slip and cami & knicker set.

I won’t pretend I’m not the least bit upset about this. But this was MY idea 20 years ago ok. I was only 7! I was a child prodigy. It was a brilliant one, the best invention in the last 100 years. But I’ll get over my pride and welcome this on my blog. But you heard it here. That this packed tupperware was MY idea!

I’m already thinking of all the cereals I can pack for my daughters when they go to school.
 

* pic via outblush

My husband and I had a date night last friday. We were out to look for a triathlete's suit for a friend at Velocity and thereafter we treaded over to United Square to do some shopping for the girls and ended the night at Udders ice-cream. My husband learned the meaning of the word from Andrea, can you believe it? And when he found out, he bellowed "How on earth am I supposed to know there was a special term for cow tits?!" Yes. This is what I live with.



I tried the Bailey's and Bourbon which was a liqueur flavour and the Hazel's Nuts which tasted very much like ferrero rocher. They were both so good!

          

I got dragged out of bed on a saturday morning to accompany my husband for a walk/jog at MacRitchie Reservoir. We did the treetop walk and the view was breathtaking. All pictures here were taken using my iPhone. 

          

I really miss having my point and shoot camera. I feel like investing in a real good one like the Canon G11 but I'm also keen to buy 2 new lenses for my DSLR. Oh, life's full of tough choices ain't it when one isn't rolling in monies.

This morning, my husband woke up and said this to me.

“I had a weird dream. I dreamt that you were a vampire and I was a werewolf and your family was part vampire, part zombie and they didn’t approve of us being together so they tried to kill me. Then when you attempted to save me, they tried to kill you too and for the last hour, I dreamt we were just running non-stop. And we were powerful. We could leap to high places.”

“Where we running to?” I'm thinking tall trees in an exotic location like Transylvania.

“We’re running around Serangoon Gardens.”

“I’m a vampire in SERANGOON GARDENS?!?!”

Seriously, what's the bloody point of leaping in high places if I'm not going anywhere else but Singapore!



* pic via kari-shma

Hello God,

It's me, Andrea again.
How are you today?
Help me be a good girl always.
Help me be a good jie jie to Marissa too.
Let me help her do things.
Thank you for making Marissa cute.
Thank you for food today.
Thank you for the bacon and mushroom.

Good night, God.