Slow Down, Momma!

It’s a past-faced world.

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Every one is hustling and moving. I can’t even finish one article without starting ten more just so the ideas would not leave my head. My big, busy head. There’s a lot of things I want to write, and a hundred other things I had to do. Add motherhood to the mix, and I had a full brain buzzing with a thousand lists of to-do’s.

Then, I realized, maybe it was because of the way I was brought up by my parents. My mom, a teacher, always brings home her auto-timer for every tasks, just as how she does it at school.

“You have 20 minutes to answer this pop-quiz.”

“5 minutes to take notes before I erase it all down.”

“10 seconds to answer this question.”

“1 minute to pee.”

I didn’t find it stressful before, though. Instead, I learned how to move quicker multi-task. Applying make-up while sipping coffee; breakfast and checking email; social media and taking a shower.

But then, as I think about it, I don’t really do much of multi-tasking. I just do one part of the one thing in between of the other. Thus, it looks like it takes me longer time to finish one thing.girl-757441_960_720.jpg

Worse, I don’t get to enjoy what I’m doing. Sometimes, I’m in the office, and I’d ask myself if I already had my coffee for the morning. I end up drinking as much as 5 cups a day.

As a mother, though, I prefer my child to know the value of quality time; that good products and new skills are produced and learned by spending effort and time. And also that it’s worthless if he doesn’t know how to appreciate and congratulate himself for these things.

I want my son to enjoy every little thing that he does. There is no better time than now that he’s growing up for both of us to realize the value of appreciation for both of us. The small things that he discovers about his little world now might have been the usual stuff for the us, but I try to remember that these are big deal for him. These are new.boy-1916204__340.jpg

Walking, playing with usual objects, getting dressed, taking a bath are the things that we usually overlooked as an adult. We pay little attention to them. But these are huge tasks for my son, and I should not expect him to move fast..

Usually, I’d blurt out the words : “Faster”, “Come here, quick.” “Finish that right now.”

I try to be mindful of that now. I try to avoid saying these, and be more patient and wait for him to finish on his own time.

If he’s hanging on to one task for a long time, I would instead blurt out other tasks for him so he’d get to choose if he wants to switch from one thing to another.

“Aren’t you hungry, yet, sweetie?”

“Do you want to go outside and play now?”

“Do you need help putting on your clothes so that you can your favorite show now?”

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I know that it’s basic necessity for the kids to understand how time works, but it is also important for them to enjoy every little stuff as much as they could. That could help them be appreciative of time and effort that they’d exert for each tasks. I believe to be one of the keys for them to appreciate their self-worth. They’d realize how hard they had worked for small stuffs, and they’d know that they had finished it in their own time, being mindful on each development. They would bring that mindfulness until they grow old, understanding the world around them, discovering insects and holes and door knobs, and once they figure it out, they will celebrate their mini-victories. When they grow up, they wouldn’t deliver less. They would take time to finish a project and they would know how they should be treated after each work done.

Writing in braids,

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A Month Recap – March

When I were a student, March is considered an ending season for us. I had a love/hate relationship with this month, anticipating it whenever I come across difficult situations at school, and avoiding it when I just can’t get enough of the things I could brag about my successes and good jobs for the year.

I’ve had three major goodbyes done in the month of March, transitioning from one school to another, all left empty promises with my friends that I would try to keep in touch, and held a lot of hope about the next scholle where I would basically be living in. They all taught me the importance of changing one’s perspective about ending a season and starting a new one.

It was all about accepting change, and the fact that moving forward sometimes means leaving something behind.

In this blog this month, I ended my breastfeeding chronicles. It’s goal is to share the essentials about MY experience: what things I think were necessary, what emotions are felt, and how I encourage myself in times when I would just about to give up. At this point of writing, I haven’t yet decided what I would like to share next in place of breastfeeding. But that’s okay. I still see the beauty of this indecision. There are just so many topics to choose from and all of them holds so much stories to be told.

As for me personally, I have encountered so many opportunities this month, so much like graduating from college. I was lucky to talk to different people about start up businesses and getting back on corporate world. It is much harder, though, now than in college, when to accept a job is based on liking the work and the environment, and not thinking about the hours that it would take a day and which one would affect less on my precious time with my child.

Eventually, I had, as of now, already gone 2 days meeting people without dragging my son with me. I left him at home, with my inlaws, and I thought about him every single minute that I’m away. It’s a burden that I think I have to learn to live by.

Even I ask myself, too, do I really need the job? Do I really have to leave my son to talk to other adults about technology and grown-up stuff? Aren’t I supposed to be just at home, taking care of my family? Isn’t it selfish of me to think of working because it’s part of who I was?

It takes a lot of hardwork and self-reflection to accept the fact that yes, I need to work. I need this, and, it sounds selfish to need it but it’s part of my destiny. I felt like it’s part of my lifetime to work on myself, to educate myself about the corporate world, and it’s a persona of me that everyone around me has to accept, even my son. I’m a working person, a working human, a working woman, and a working mother. And there’s no judgement to those who doesn’t work, to moms who stay at home, those who chose or need to be indoors. This is part of the differences that each person has, and we have to accept and be kind to everyone.

Every March of the year, I consider it a transition month for learning about myself. Ending it doesn’t mean closing my doors on my previous schoolmates and the lectures that I had. For me, it’s passing all the exams and tests of the previous semesters, applying all the knowledge that was taught to me, and giving myself a break from all the lessons. So that when the new school year comes, I would enroll in fresh from a vacation, skin a little bit darker, hair a little bit rufflier, ready to tackle on some new lessons to learn and passing new tests that life would give.

 

Writing in buns,

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One Final Thing about Breastfeeding

I don’t have much encouraging words for myself when I breastfeed. So many people say it was hard, emotionally, physically. They said it would hurt, it would take up so much of my time. Almost everyone would congratulate me, telling me what a good job I do for choosing to breastfeed, it would sound so much as a judgment on my son’s part, on every breastfed babies part, for making it sound like a hard chore t do, like a sacrifice.

I think that as much as I loved breastfeeding, there’s only so much that one mother can share about it. There’s is no way I could end my share grandiosely other than saying that every latch time I had with my son, while not always, are the most precious moments I had with him. Holding him as closer to my heart as possible, giving him as much of me as I could, they were the greatest part of why I feel like a winner mom every single day.

Believe me, though, and every mom out there, that it is not always as happy and as zen as we want it to be. There would be moments when you’d feel like you want to wean and just stop, so you could do you, you could have more free time that you could use for yourself, and the worst feeling would be after having these thoughts. The guilt of wanting to give up for your own sake, for your own happiness; the feeling of letting down your child’s health just because you need more for you. It is just the worst. So you try to get back up.

I feel that every single day. And every words of self-empowerment gets harder each time I think about it. I prayed as much as I could that these depressing thoughts would never flow through my breast and into my son’s mouth. That my hearts sadness would not be heard while he’s latched-on and close to hearing every beat of it. I thought, sometimes, I felt myself pissed off with my son and his neediness, only to realize that I’m just mad at myself for thinking so selfishly.

The single, most important thing, that I have in mind whenever I so down, is the thought of my son growing up. I wold mentally compute how much time he’d spend on earth latching on to me. Only less than 2.6% of his entire life will be spend next to my chest. Only 2 years of his 80 years lifetime. And I doubt he’d even remember it. But the benefit that we’ll both reap. Him, being attached to me, always, even when he grows up. His good health, emotional stability, and mental capacity as he drinks the golden milk of life.

So to breastfeeding moms out there, feel every emotion, enjoy every heart beat, and entertain every thoughts, good and bad. Knowing that you only get to do this for a short amount of time is enough of a reason for you to go on and keep going.

 

Spending Precious Time

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Some other people thought that when you’re a stay-at-home mom, you have all the time in the world to spend with your little one. Sometimes, my husband would innocently ask me “how was your day?” and I’d be defensively describe to him every work I’ve done. I barely even had a chance to brush my hair. The whole day has been spent with my son, yes, but not to play with him 24/7, but to attend to all his needs, and every mom knows that a little baby can be so demanding all the time.

Overtime, I learned how to manage my emotions while taking care of my baby. It can be overwhelming, especially on days when I have to look at the mirror, and see my eyebrows turning into unibrow, the tangled hair that looked like they’d all stick together forever, or the chapped lips that I haven’t had the chance to mind all week.

One great thing that I learned into being an effective mother is finding the happiness in each chores. Being mindful helps, which I try every time my mind wanders into the pile of tasks that I had in my to-do list each day. There would be nights when I would evaluate how I did that whole day, how it all ends up and what I have accomplished. I would be very disappointed on days when all I had done was fold up laundry and putting it away. After being mindful, I learned that I have to be easy on myself, and to remember even accomplishing the smallest chore is a success in its own way. Knowing that the clock is always ticking no matter how tiny or unimportant my job is, every second is spent and that’s enough for me to believe that I have been productive in some way.

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This realizations made me appreciate each moment with my little son. I try to take chores that involves him and make it a bonding moment as much as possible. The best one is when I bathe him. Before, I would give him a quick bath: wet-soap-scrub-rinse, that single set of steps and done. But then, he’d start to enjoy being in the tub and played in it, and trying to get him out of the water right after rinsing would be a struggle. In my mind, though, we have to finish up bathing because I can’t wait t
o move on to the next thing I had to do. But my attempt to force him out of the bath tub takes up more energy and more time than the actual bathing, and we both get out of the bathroom upset and disappointed at each other, which then makes it hard for me to put fresh clothes on him, and ending up him wanting to be comforted and me nursing him to calmness. At the end, we would both be exhausted and I would find myself lying next to him, napping.

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After a while, when I decided to be mindful, I started to let him play at the tub after the quick bath, until he has spent enough time in the water and would not be upset when I take him out. I would also watch him play, see him develop new skills, and check out his curiosity on how liquid works. I get to enjoy this simple moments, and after, it was so much easier to get him dressed, and he still have little energy left to play before nap time, which I would spend cleaning up the bathroom and doing other small chores until he’s tired and ready for a quick sleep.

There would also be times that I would take a bath with him, let him play at the tub while I take a bath myself, and after which, we’d both be fresh and clean, which is killing two tasks for the day.thiago-cerqueira-191866

Since then, I have believed at the power of being mindful, and saw that trying to multitask everything in my mind will always be a challenge to almost everyone in the house as it affects all the family members. Trying to be present at everything, be it small or big, always makes it easier and simpler for me, resulting to a more graceful mother who can run up the household in a very calm way.

Writing in buns,

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A Month Recap – February

This love month is a good month to not only celebrate our love to our partners, but to also analyze our relationship, the way we give and receive love, the way we show and say it, and the times when we mean it, (because every married people knows there would be times when you just don’t like your partner).

It’s not always butterflies, agreed. And you can’t expect your spouses to be in full-on romantic mode 24/7. I can’t even ask mine if it only for a whole day.

But it doesn’t really mean it’s not there. When I became a mother, I also realized that showing love takes more than kisses and laughter. It has to be a lot of little things that you put together to create that huge masterpiece, like a painting that needs all the colors, even your least favorite shades of grey or black.

When my son cries, I try to assess the situation first: is he hurt, hungry, sleepy? Is there something that he needs that I need to provide. Most of the time, he would cry out of just simply feeling sad or miserable. A loving mother in me wanted so bad to comfort him, tell him it’s okay to cry. But also, I wanted to discipline him, knowing that he needs to realize that there’s nothing wrong and that it’s not always alright to cry.

I avoid telling him to stop, but I explain the scenario to him, hoping he’d understand what I was saying. It’s not for me to have a quiet time, but for him to better himself, understanding the situation and reacting in a proper way.

Same thing goes with marriage and love. Most of the time, I tend to tell my partner to stop getting excited or angry or sad. He would also do the same. But I realized that a better way to approach our emotional turmoils is through asking more, understanding the reasons why we feels such ways.

I thought, I cannot just ask him to stop being mad, because I definitely would not want him to just order me to pause my anger if it were me. There must have been more behind our times of feeling peeved. Bad day at work? Horrible traffic? Whatever could have cause that negative emotion, we must realize that it could affect our vibes at home. Of course, no one could just flick the off switch to feeling mad or down, but it would be better if we would also understand why we feel such and is the reason good enough to drag the family down.

This emotional understanding became another way for me to be mature about our relationship. I used to bring in too much tantrums pre-marriage era, but I definitely can’t be that spoiled girlfriend anymore. Ok, maybe I engage on mini-tantrums but that’s just every now and then. Everyone deserves to have an off-day, let off some steam.

This month, I also reflected on the topic of romance. I can’t help it, I’m a die-hard romantic, and I have loved the ideas of huge gestures and surprises. If I were a guy, I’d definitely be every girls’ dream boyfriend on Valentines.

When my husband and I were in our 2nd Valentines, and he’s got nothing but a visit to the mall, we came up with a reasonable compromise to always celebrate the occasion even in the simplest form. I made him a list of all the kinds of dates that we should do. Then, we got married. And suddenly, Valentines and dates doesn’t seem as important as before.

One might think: “Well, there goes an unhappy woman married with an unromantic man. She’s bitter and doesn’t want to show it.”

Honestly, I envied my friends photos they uploaded last Feb. 14. I even cried, thinking, “Oh my God, my husband doesn’t have flowers or chocolates, and he has no intention of doing anything tonight.” Then, he started the car and asked me out on a date. We drove all the way to Nuvali, with him being patient, trying to survive the Valentines traffic going to the only romantic place for the locals in the south.

You might really believe the quote: Romance dies after marriage. For me, though, it just took a higher level of compromise and comprehension. When I got married, I realized romance isn’t just huge gestures of love, flowers, chocolates, dates and all that. We would spend a whole day fighting about something small, and then went to the room to actually talk about why we’re mad at each other. One time, we would go out and walk for hours in the mall, and we take turns entertaining our son – I would go to a cafe with our child while he looks freely for a shirt, and he would bring the little one to the toystore while I look for my make-up. He would try his best to clock out of the office or deal with clients as fast as he can so he could go home early. These things, believe it or not, brings butterflies to my stomach.

What can I say? I’m an easy woman to please.

Writing in braids,

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Remember the Small Things when Breastfeeding

I believe I am lucky to have it easy on breastfeeding my child. I didn’t had any pains which makes it easier for both of us to just enjoy the moment. However, there were I wished we had prepared before hand which could have taken nursing to a whole new level of comfort and no stress. I have also realized several unexpected things that goes together with breastfeeding.

I have compiled a few of them, things that I can only remember now.

  • You’ll never know thirst as before.
    Seriously, you will imagine what happens inside your body once you felt the thirst while breastfeeding. It feels like all the water in your body is sucked on by this tiny little monster. Better to invest to a good water bottle, something that’s easy to grab with one hand while you’re holding the baby on the other. I also would have love those with straw. There would be times that I’d be lying down next to my little one and he asks for my breast, and then I’ll feel the urge to drink. So that would have been nice.
  • Under boobs sweat.
    The thing with me is I was flat chested. I don’t have cleavage so I haven’t experience boob sweat before this. Now though, it’s always there. I would always experience hot flashes, especially when they’re full. Sometime, you don’t even know if that’s milk or sweat. What you would want is to not forget a towel wherever you are.
  • Dry nipples.
    Had this just now, when my son had graduated from feeding every 30 minutes. I didn’t really bought any expensive creams or ointments, and most of the time, only when I remember it, I would put in some aloe vera or coconut oil after each feeding.
  • From erected full boobs to saggy.
  • As I’ve said, I’ve been a no-boobs girl all my life, so going back to before is not a problem. But the thing is you would definitely notice it, the moment your breasts are full, to just losing all that’s in there, and I would see mine and the skin are so elastic and all of it are being pulled down by gravity. It’s not a really good sight.
  • BORED AF!
    Okay, the first few days are amazing. Or maybe first few months. But then there would be times that the baby demands that he nurses until he falls asleep, and it would take like three hours to do that. Yes, it’s exaggerated, but it would help if you have a book or a phone with you so you wouldn’t feel so bored. Once I forget that I had to wait so long until my son fell asleep, then it makes it easier for me to anticipate our next nursing session, not dread it.

The best thing is to have a quick mini ritual before you take your baby to your nursing chair. Make sure that your water bottle is nearby, and you have your towel and a good book with you. It helped a lot to have an area where we will constantly feed, and I have already have some of these stuffs nearby our seat. Also, I thanked my husband a lot who already knew his part whenever we position ourselves for nursing time, he’s the one to prep up the water bottle, he makes sure it’s always full and refilled.

There’s of course a few more things to note, okay, maybe a million things. The big things are already given, like a nursing pillow, breast pump (if you’re into that), any many more. But these small things, we sort of always forget about, and they are the ones that meant a lot. You want to make a habit of these small ones so you wouldn’t add stress to your brain when feeding. It doesn’t always have to be what our baby is comfortable with. Whatever mommy’s feeling, baby feels, too! So make every moment as enjoyable as it is for you, and you’ll have a happy baby as well.

Writing in buns,

Explaining A No

I have fear of public speaking. I do, and a lot more fears that I think just doesn’t make sense. These are things that I hope I wouldn’t pass down to my son.

Most of the time, I would psycho-analyze myself, talking into these emotions. Why am I so mad at my father for no reason? Why do I have too much pride on myself forgetting how to forgive? Why am I so scared of even talking to the bank just to open an account?

When I was little, I remember being afraid of electric fans, and how I never even want to be near one. It’s inexplicable at the time, and even I don’t know why I cringe every time I look at the rotating fan. Then I saw a man on TV stopped one using his tongue and I was caught off guard. I thought why would he do such painful thing. Until one day, at school, everyone had this mini fans running on a single AA battery. I wanted to have one, but I’m so scared to. Then my father bought me one in my favorite color – purple. It was so pretty and I realized that there’s nothing, really to be scared of, only if I know how to be careful around it.

Just this weekend, my son experienced his first cut. He didn’t actually put his finger inside the electric fan on purpose, but he used it as a guide as he walked around. He accidentally shoot a finger inside, and that’s it. He cried and wailed, but after an hour of soothing and giving him toys, he’s at it again, mindlessly doing the same thing. I remembered my fear again. Then I realized, there’s a much better approach to saying no whenever he comes close to a dangerous object. I should not only reject his actions on things that might hurt him, but I should also explain why.

Now that I have a son, I would want to reason out myself better, because I believe that he would also get that, not knowing why he feels certain emotions toward things. So as he grows older learning new stuffs and exploring objects around him, I would go after him and would always be mindful of how I react to his little adventures.

It’s not enough to say no to children nowadays. I realized that if I want my son to grow with good reasoning skills, I should treat him like a regular person and tell him the reason behind every no. “It might hurt you. It might break. It might fall on you.” This way, he’d realize that it’s not that I’m stopping him to have fun, but that I just care for him so much that I don’t want anything to happen to him.

Don’t get me wrong. I grew up in a house where “NO” was the first word they enjoyed me saying, and I liked to believe I grew up just fine. But of course, it’s with this same principle why there are thing in my life that I regret not doing. (college committee presidency, cheerleading, working abroad). And though I already forgave myself for it, I would never want my child to have the same regrets. Growing up with an unexplained no is okay. You don’t have to always say the reason why you don’t feel comfortable doing things. But then, you’ll never know the extent of the opportunities that you’re saying no to if you just explain yourself better. For example, I didn’t take up cheerleading and the committee presidency in college because I was afraid it would take up much of my time. But what if they had offered me a compromise, explained to me that they also understand students’ need of their time to study.

Aside from this, I would want my son to tell me when something’s wrong. I want him to be as open as possible, and not just say no to everything, even trivial ones. I want him to be as vocal as he can be, at least to me, so that at least there would be one person he could trust to say anything. It’s just me wanting to know everything that runs into his mind, but also for him to know the comfort that it brings whenever he says the reason behind his every anxieties.

That, I think, would guide him into choosing the right partner. Then, he wouldn’t settle for someone who would just accept his every no, who would be fine to not hear his reasons. Then, he would look for someone he can confide in, someone who would give him the comfort of listening to his every problems.

Explaining to a child goes a long way! In fact, if I could, I would use the word No as less as possible, giving him only the consequences of each dangerous actions. Then he’d figure it out at an early stage. It’s not that I won’t like to hear No from him, but I want him to realize that because I seldom say that word, when I do, it means it’s serious. And the same thing goes for him. I don’t want him growing up saying No to brocolli, but if he finally said that word on certain things, then I’d know that he’s not just being picky, but he’s uncomfortable, too.

Writing in Buns,

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The Proposal

Photo courtesy of Pretty Little Liars.

I could’ve actually let Jane drive me back to the apartment, the problem is I won’t be able to stop by the drugstore to buy a pregnancy test. She would never let me out of the car without a thousand questions about it.

As soon as I parked in the driveway, I immediately run to the bathroom in our room. I quickly inspected the house and concluded that Nate went out for a run. He always does at this hour, and I guess, my reply was enough to relax him and get around to his usual daily routine. I saw his laptop plugged in on his usual working corner, and a fresh set of clothes for when he gets back.

I tore the wrapper off the stick and made the necessary squat and pee. I haven’t been done yet and I already heard the door of the room open and shut. Nate’s here. And he also checked the bathroom door, realizing someone’s in there, he shouted:

“Marg, is that you?”

I snapped, and quickly stood up from the toilet. Holding the stick in my hand, I opened the door, as if by reflex.

He looked at me, and his eyes suddenly got fixated on the stick in my hand.

“Honey.” He said, in his calming voice, somehow, hinting the nervousness behind it. He holds my other hand and brings me to the bed, like I was hypnotized by simply being around him. He pushed me to sit down on the side while he moves next to me. The stick is still on the other hand. I cannot look at him. I can only look at my lap.

“Look. Here’s the thing. I love you and I’m ready to be with you. I’m ready to give myself to you, Margo.” He started to say, and somehow, I don’t know where he’s getting at.

“It’s just that,” he continues. “I don’t know if we’re ready to commit to this thing.”

“What?” I finally found my voice, and at the same time I realized how confused I am.

“No. What I mean is, I love you. And I can commit TO YOU. I will commit to you. But maybe, we should do something. I mean, wouldn’t it be fun if we just have a time of our own? Just the two of us. It’s enough for you, right? Am I not enough for you?”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.” Still trying to figure out what he means.

“I’m just saying, let’s get married, okay? Will that not make you happy? Will that not make you feel enough?”

“And,” I said, finally understanding what he wants to do. “At the expense of our marriage, you want me to not be pregnant, is that it?” I suddenly put the stick under my butt, as if hiding it means hiding the very thing that we wanted to detect by it.

“Well, it sounds awful if you put it that way.”

“It is awful, and there’s no other way to put it!” Now, i feel the anger rushing in.

“I just wanted us to have a time for ourselves after marriage. Just the two of us, enjoying each other’s company. My friend said that somehow, it made their relationship stronger.”

“What made them stronger? Marriage? Or the abortion that you’re actually subtly suggesting.”

“Hey, Margo! Can you not be so angry about it. Let’s try to make sense of this.”

“Okay. Let’s. You want us to get married, and get rid of the baby? That’s the solution that you came up with?”

“We can compromise!”

“Compromise, how? What if I wanted to actually have the baby?”

“You don’t believe that, how can you raise a baby at this age? We’re just at our 20’s. We’re still enjoying our life.”

“Yes. But, I don’t like the idea of abortion.”

“Then don’t think of it that way. Think of it as a medical thing. It’s avoiding something that you are not ready for.”

“But how do you know that I’m not ready for it?”

“Because I am not, so I know that you’re not either. I’m not ready to be a father. I can’t be a father.” He finally said it, exasperated. And at the end of the sentence, I sensed how blurting it out somehow made him feel better. Like he’s no longer tensed of the situation.

“Then maybe that’s the problem, you’re the problem.” I said, as if giving up with the situation. I finally knew what I wanted. And seeing how different he wants to approach this disgusts me.

“Look, we’ll get married. I’m gonna be there for you. I’ll be your husband, your partner.”

“And you’ll do that if we’re not having a baby now?”

“Well, yes.” He said, not proud of his answer.

“Then, I don’t want a marriage.”

“But I can’t…”

“And you can’t have a baby. So I guess, this is it. Maybe we’re done.”

“Maybe? That’s a maybe Marg, what I’m offering you is a full time commitment.”

“You’re offering something that you don’t know how to give Nate! I’m done. This is finished.”

I stood up and went straight to the bathroom. I locked myself in, even though I don’t really know for how long I’ll be in. But with the looks of it, it wouldn’t be that long. I almost forgot the stick on my hand, and looked at it. Just a single line.

It’s a false alarm, but the alarm was loud enough for me to wake up from my dream to date the best version of Nate. I thought I wanted to be different from the other girls. I wanted to be someone who wouldn’t let Nate feel like he needs to change himself for me. So I let him be himself, while I struggle to adjust to his ways that I wouldn’t ever be comfortable with. I stopped being me so he can be just the way he is. I never knew that because of that, he’d actually want to force himself to do something he resisted from the beginning, and I ended up turning my back on that chance.

I looked at the stick that shouted NEGATIVE, and I’m left to wonder what to do now. I just broke up with my boyfriend for nothing. Is it for nothing? I don’t know anymore. I heard the bedroom door shut and I decided to come out of the room. He left the house without even calling me out. Is he okay with what just happened?

A Month Recap and What to Come in the Year – 2017, January

Kong Hei Huat Choi!
The yuletide season is never over until the Chinese New Year arrives, well, that’s as far as my family is concerned.
This month marks my first year anniversary of being a stay-at-home mom. There are so much emotions that went on last year, and a lot of changes.
This year, though, we were greeted with unending possibilities and opportunities. I can only celebrate as much as what the year of the hen would bring. Included in the celebration is my first year of finally learning how to work out WordPress and have (for the nth time) updated and gave a new look to my blog.
I also celebrate the continuity of my first ever fiction story, publishing every Thursday’s. Here’s the first episode. I, too, am excited for Margo’s love life and I can’t wait to write everything I’ve ever imagined about her.
Together with my son’s milestone, I am glad to share as much information as I could, hoping it could help new mother’s, like me, out there. Thank you for all who visited and read the blogs. I know so many sites that could have written so much better than I do and could provide more insights. I could only share what I have experience, what I have used, what I have had, with just enough, sometimes less, resources. This just proves that financial capability is never an excuse to be a bad parent.
Also, within 2 years of being married, I’m also excited to write more things about being a wife, I mean, how I am as a wife. Sometimes, I wonder if my husband and I are the only couple who do certain things, with certain rituals, and would always ask if other normal husbands are the same as mine. Well, please help me figure that out once I wrote about it.
I hope you enjoy the few things I’ve written as a start of the year, and here’s to seeing more of each other! I am always on cloud nine whenever I see your names popping out of my email inbox, liking my posts, it’s so overwhelming!
Remember that I’m not just here to talk about myself. If there’s anything you want to discuss, just leave a comment or email me.
 Writing in buns,
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Breastfeeding Stories: My Journey

There’s a different pride to being a breastfeeding mom. Most of the time, it’s overwhelming, but there also times when you think you’re just ready to stop and have your breasts for yourselves. For over a year, I have felt all kinds of emotions during the moments that I had to nurse my son.

Joyful for so many reasons. Top of the list is the fact that I contribute to the household by giving my son free food. When there are moments that I feel bad for not having a job and not earning money that could have add to the family’s earnings or could pay the extra expenses, I would compensate this by reminding myself that feeding my baby is more than enough of a contribution. I would then feel grateful and appreciate my self, my body, more for the amout of money that we have been able to save up because of my breastfeeding.

Guilt over the feelings of wanting to wean on several occassions. There would be times that I would want to go out with my friends, and I would then realize that it would be awkward for us to have dinner and spend time with them until the wee hours of the night, knowing that I must bring my son along with me. On the first year of my son alone, I had to attend two weddings, and even though I’ve enjoyed it with him, I feel so guilty that I had to drag him to stay all night for the reception because we had to be there.

Sometimes, though I know it is too much, I would feel sad for the very reason that I know my body isn’t my own anymore. That I cannot always do what I would have wanted to do freely. And I know that the mere fact of having a child is already reason enough for moms to know that they don’t have a life of their own anymore, but breastfeeding was different. It was a shout out to your face that you should no longer enjoy the things you did pre-baby. Yes, you can, but it wouldn’t be that easy. Being responsible is not easy. You can drink coffee but not too much; you can enjoy wine, but not too much; you can stay up late, but not too much. Everythings would be not too much. And that is sad.

Back to hapiness, because there is no better feeling that knowing yourself more. Yes, you would definitely have that epiphany days when you just realize how much you could change for that one single tiny human being. That you could stop about your pride and your sensitity, because you would need to stop thinking about being fit just so you could look as hot as before, and stop feeling wounded when your friends would tell you how much weight you’ve gained. These sacrifices, which are not all of it, are the things that would also make you feel good about yourself.

With all of these, when you decided to be a BF-ing mom, you should definitely be ready not just physically, but also emotionally. You would have to accept the reality that there would be no consistent feeling, and be strong about it yourself. You have to know when your mind is just playing tricks with you, and when it is real. Enjoy every feelings and every moment because it would be different once you stop. Even the guilt and the sadness, they could be excrutiatingly painful to live with, but just like your delivery day, once it was over, you would miss it and would try to wonder how it felt like before. These would definitely teach you to appreciate the good days.

And just remember that in your child’s whole lifetime, you would only get to enjoy this moment for 2 years. It’s a really short period for a whole life, so try to remind yourself that even for that nursing moments, you get to enjoy your son a few more minutes while giving him the best kind of care you could. That is somehow lucky because not everyone can have that. Some people, whether by choice or not, are trying to be satisfied with feeding their little ones bottles to feed in, and I imagine some mother’s curiousity on how it would feel like to direct latch. So enjoy it. You are giving him your whole attention, time, availability, basically, your whole self. That is love.

Writing in buns,

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