Charismatic

Nursing. Breastfeeding. Something one can only experience as a woman and as a mother. One of the most miraculous things God ever created the body to do.  I haven't been blogging much but I thought a brief write up about my experience nursing Bubby would be worthwhile.  I was fortunate to start off with a lot of support from T and from a very experienced Mom. Also, it helped that most of my muso gal friends were also committed to nursing, and most of them nursed till their kids were 1.5-2 yrs of age.  Bubby was a good feeder from the start. Almost too good. His latch was strong I had to be careful to position him right all the time so I wouldn't get injured. He ate a lot and often, and he has never had any formula milk. The first 2-3 months he would feed for 30-45 mins at a time every 2-3 hours. Unlike most infants that feed often but for short periods of time, he was eating throughout the 30-45 mins. That was how he grew from lanky 3.5kg at birth to being fat 6...

A FB memory popped up today. It was a collection of photos from my first time recording with GOODTV. Looking back at the photos I don't think the styling was that great (in hindsight), but I had a bunch of supportive friends from OZ-land who cheered my baby steps forward.  It's been almost 7 years since I've first moved to Formosa-land. It's pictures and memories like this that remind me how fresh, expectant and naive I was when I first arrived(despite being a lot less naive than when I was 18 and first moved to Ozland).  Yes, I do cringe at a few things like some of my fashion choices (and those of the makeup/styling artists that I've worked with); like some of my performances and recordings that could have been much better. But sometimes I wish I could always remain that expectant and keep that 'wonder'. Ravi Zacharias wrote a book about the importance of wonder in our walk with God. Been doing some examinations of my own heart and I find that jad...

I wish blogged more regularly about parenthood and kept milestone records more diligently. But life happens...Whoosh and we're into 22 months of official parenthood (plus the 9 months of expectant parenthood).  Bubby turns 2 really soon.  Everyone we've met has commented that he's grown to be such a big boy. No longer a baby, not even really a toddler anymore. He's 2 feet 10 inches tall, and weighs a hefty 13.1kg. He's muscular with a comfortable padding of cute baby fat, has round eyes with double lids, a cute bowl cut, and a smile that lights up the room. He can walk like a pro, and run around quite efficiently now. He climbs like a monkey, has great arm and leg strength, good balance, a startling sense of direction.  Bubby is quite an early talker, especially considering that he's a boy. Also a clear enunciator. Some interesting scenarios lately: Currently he can say, 'C'mon man' (obviously imitating T)  whenever T hits the brakes, or...

There are some people who are ....  GIFTED ! Been checking out some great musos lately to stoke my own passion for music again. Here's a documentary of the amazing organ player, Cory Henry.  Part 1 Part 2

There have been quite a few times in my life that people have told me : "XXX is important, and you might not like it or think it's worth it now, but you will in the future". Or some other opinion or piece of advice along similar lines.  I remember distinctly that I did not want to be a school prefect. Firstly it was too much extra responsibility (yea, I was Miss live-and-let-live). Secondly, prefects were generally disliked by around 50% of the student population because they were 'police', and honestly, who likes being 'policed'? And I was a people pleaser, so why set yourself up to be somewhat hated by half the school? Thirdly, the prefect's uniform for females was ugly. It made me look short and wide. This was actually an important thing to me. My mom thought this reason for avoiding prefect-ship was quite ridiculous and shallow. And that I would think so too when I was older. Well,  I became a prefect. But in all honesty, I don't think the...

Praise and thanksgiving are actions of warfare. I believe that the enemy will try to harass us and make us worried about the urgent even while we are being richly blessed. He is here to steal, kill and destroy. If he cannot steal our blessings, why not steal our joy? And what is the point of being blessed if we cannot enjoy the blessings? Reminding myself everyday to be thankful and to enjoy the present, even while there are a million chores to do, a million things juggle... Bubby is now 2 months. I wish I was more diligent at blogging. But it's been a whirlwind of activity everyday. I just want to thank God now for a healthy, active baby, the new house, the many gifts and blessings that everyone around us has blessed us with, and many more things.  Bubby's crying right now...and so ends this little spiel. Till his next nap comes...

Bubby is 36 weeks today. His head is mostly engaged now, though he does twist around a little during his afternoon naps. His most active moments are usually around 6-7pm (just before dinner time) and from 11pm-1am. Sigh. I guess his clock isn't too different from his parents.  He is now low enough and big enough to cause some discomfort to the pelvis, which seems to be a common malady at 34+ weeks. according to all the forums I read online. Sitting can be uncomfortable if I slouch even slightly, because the uterus is already up to my lungs. And Bubby likes to wriggle his feet into my ribs when he has an active spell.  4 more weeks before I'm officially due. And I can probably expect Bubby anytime after I hit 38 weeks. Our prayer is that he stays put at least till the 20th of Nov. This is because T has a number of gigs and rehearsals from the 14th-18th of Nov and it would be quite chaotic if I went into labour then. Besides, mom only arrives on the 20th of Nov as well....