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The darndest kid quotes and antics The Kao Kids What to Expect... As a Mother

Baby dreaming

August 16, 2013

Recently, the kids have been pestering me for a baby.

At every opportune time, they will ask, “Can we have a new baby, please, please, please, Mama?”

I tell them that they can ask a gazillion times with a double gazillion pleases, the answer would still be an affirmative no.

Then comes the dreaded question following the no. Cue the “WHY???!!!”

For every reason I give them, the kids seem to have a solution for me. If you need to take care of the new baby, Mum, we can take care of ourselves, they tell me. No time? Let’s make time! No energy? Go get energy lor. No money? Go make more money la! Need help? We’ll help you, no problem here!

Life’s challenges are so easy to overcome in the eyes of these children.

So I’ve given up reasoning with them. In their world, no problem is too difficult to solve. Not even having a new baby. Space and time is infinite, and so is energy, money and help – so why not, Mama? I feel so sorry that in time to come, these kids would realize that everything they think is infinite is finite, and that this childhood dreaming would vanish into thin air.

Like I said, I’ve given up explaining. Instead, I asked them back why they are asking me for a new baby.

“Erm, Mama. Can’t you see? Di di is growing up and there’s NO MORE baby in the house. That’s why we NEED a new baby!”

Nope, these kids don’t need new toys. Or more toys. Just give them babies!

My three beautiful babies (who for now, are more than enough!)
Photo credit: @fiveuponfive

P/S: I’m no kid, so I’m really happy just to have three babies.

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Milestones and growing up The darndest kid quotes and antics What to Expect... As a Mother

???

August 5, 2013

I know I’d probably eat my words when the nest is empty or when I’m 64, whichever comes earlier, but I just need to say this:

I’m so tired answering questions, and so tired of questions!

Gawd’, I can’t even begin describing how exhausted I am, fielding questions that come fast and furious every single waking moment from Ben who’s now four half, and Becks who’s just turned three last week. I’m talking about almost zero minutes of silence here in my life, except on weekdays where they are at kindergarten for three hours, of course; but I’m pretty sure they are giving their teachers a tough time too asking ‘why’ and ‘what’ and ‘how’ and ‘who’. But then again when they are at school, I’m with Nat who is now babbling non stop, so there you have it – the reason why I.am.so.tired.

So Ben and Becks love questions. They breathe, live, eat, drink and dream them.

~~~

When a call comes, the kids scream in my ears and ask ‘Who is it?’ and why the person is calling; when I’m on the phone, they ask who I am messaging and why I’m sending a message.

Becks: Are you messaging, Mama?

Me: Yes. (I try to stick to one-word answers, hoping this would end all questions.)

Ben: Who, Mama?

Me: I’m replying Dada.

Becks: Why?

Me: Cos’ it’s raining and he’s concerned if I would manage ok taking bus with you.

[And so this begins the never-ending series of question regarding travelling in the rain]

Ben: Why is he concerned ah? [Pause. Waits for answer. No answer. Continue.]

Ben: Ya it’s raining, so why you cannot take the car? Can we take taxi?

Becks: Why Dada message you?

Ben: Why cannot take taxi?

Me: Expensive.

Ben: Why is taxi expensive? And why we take bus in the rain is ok?

Becks: Where’s Dada’s car?

Ben: Did he park it here?

Becks: Is he driving now?

Ben: If he’s not using it, why you cannot go and take it?

Becks: Can we take taxi?

Ben: Why you have no money to take taxi? Is bus cheaper than taxi? But if we take bus we’ll be wet you know.

And the questions go on. Questions, questions, and more questions. This goes on until (a) they begin quarrelling among themselves cos’ both of them want to ask at the same time or (b) I go beserk trying to answer their questions. All because I told them the content of their father’s message.

~~~

I sometimes dread telling the kids to look out for things or point out interesting things in their surroundings because I always get a series of ‘why’ and ‘what’ and ‘how’ that follows. I can go, “Hey guys, look! The construction workers are using the steam roller to flatten the tar on the roads” and that’s like opening a big can of worms which I can never shoo back into the can, because it would be followed with questions like:

‘Why are they putting tar on the road?’

‘Do the uncles need to sleep?’

‘Is it noisy for them? Why they don’t cover their ears?’

‘Is the steam roller hot? Will they be burnt?’

‘Why do the uncles work when it’s drizzling now?’

‘Do they get a lot of money for doing this?’

Yes, these are valid questions. In my frustration from answering too many questions, I have categorized questions into ‘stupid’ and ‘intelligent’ and told the kids to only ask intelligent ones. Now you know why I am so tired.

~~~

It’s also becoming quite a challenge for me to read to the kids. The challenge is always on my patience. Questions fill their minds. All the time. They need to know why all.the.time. They absolutely must find out why Peter and Jane are going to the toy store, why they bought toys and sweets, why Pat the dog cannot eat the fish and why Peter and Jane jumped from the rock into the water at the beach (we are reading Key Words with Peter and Jane 1a, 1b and 2a right now). When we read Dear Zoo, Ben kept asking why he can’t write to the zoo to send him a pet. When we read Giraffes Can’t Dance, Becks and Ben kept asking why Gerald the Giraffe suddenly can, and if he could at the end of the story, then why is the title the title (Gerald the Giraffe eventually danced, didn’t he?).

My answers? I told them to go ask the book. Please talk to Peter, Jane, Rod Campbell and Gerald.

~~~

I am really tired. Question: Can I have another brain just to answer their questions?

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Fatherkao loves... Invites & Tryouts Product Reviews The Kao Kids What to Expect... As a Mother

Be a breastfeeding dad [A post for fathers]

June 7, 2013

Postpartum. Day 1 to 30.

The hormones are raging and she’s on the verge of slipping into those scarily depressing postnatal blues. A fragile little thing is rooting all the time and suckling at her breast round the clock.

She gets no rest.

Overactive let-down. Engorgement. Blocked ducts. Mastitis. These are the “good” problems if she has more than enough milk.

Poor latch. Nipple pain. Cranky, whiny baby. The problems when she doesn’t have enough.

The first 30 days postpartum, she’s likely to be thinking: How can I ever do this, this thing called breastfeeding?

Enter the valiant knight in shining armour. She calls him the husband. How he supports her during this trying period will be the key to her breastfeeding success.

~~~

Dads, you can be a support to a nursing mother (must be your wife, yes?!) in very practical ways. You can show her you are with her in this, besides saying, “I love you, honey, you can do it” so that she finds the strength to persevere in the days of breastfeeding madness.

Here’s how.

Be a breastfeeding dad in FOUR simple ways:

1. Help with the little things

Sitting close to her while she’s nursing, putting your arms around her just so she knows she can count on you for support, giving her neck and shoulders a good rub, bringing her a glass of water or propping her tired legs up on a footstool are just some of the little acts of love you can do to show that you’re emotionally and mentally with her in this. You can also take over with a bottle feed once or twice a day, so she gets a break, and you get to bond with the baby. And do you know, by being around to massage the baby while she is nursing, you can stimulate the baby’s physical and mental development too?

So dads, jump in when you can. Pays great dividends in the long run.

2. Shoo fly, don’t bother me

Your wife doesn’t need an audience to tell her whether she can or cannot breastfeed. Sometimes, the older folks would come by with their well-meaning advice. And sometimes, you have to play the villain by telling the confinement lady and the aunty-mom folks to shut their nagging up. Most importantly, as a couple, whether you choose to breastfeed or bottlefeed, be at peace with your decision and shut your ears out to the world who may have a hundred and one things to say to you.

I’m very appreciative of the fact that my husband put his foot down and told everyone who had a comment to make (especially my first confinement lady, gawd’ she’s a nagger alright!) during my first few weeks of struggling that he’d appreciate it if they let us handle the challenge by ourselves (nicely, of course). Well meaning or not, it’s our baby, and we certainly don’t need the extra stress from anyone else.

3. Invest in a good breastpump

If you see her having trouble nursing during those first few weeks after giving birth, it pays to get a good electric breastpump for her. Especially if baby isn’t able to nurse enough for her to build up her milk supply. Selecting a good one will help keep her milk flowing and prevent plugged ducts or an infection.

I recommend getting one that is fully automatic, has adjustable suction levels to prevent nipple discomfort and is designed to mimic a baby’s sucking patterns, like the Philips AVENT single (or double) electric Comfort breastpump, which allows her to sit more comfortably with no need to lean forward, gently stimulates natural let down and milk flow, and lets her choose from 3 pumping settings to be at her most comfortable.

The single electric Comfort breastpump

4. Send encouragement her way

Yes, I did say that little kind acts are better than “I love you, hun, you can do it” but it’s nice to hear some positive words from you once in a while. So please, please, go tell your wife, the mother of your child, that she’s still babe in your eyes and oh-so-sexy, cos’ well, it sure feels like crap to be nothing but a 24/7 milk machine and still looking five months preggers.

Most importantly, if you were to show the slightest sign of giving up too, you could be negatively affecting your exhausted postpartum wife to do her best for your baby. Sorry dude, in this mega project called ‘Breastfeeding Baby’, you’d have to be the stable one to encourage her to continue with the gig until everything is established.

I was very blessed to have a breastfeeding dad in the house who would be involved in every possible way so that I always have someone to count on for support, and not feel that I was in this all by myself.

Fatherkao, the breastfeeding dad, with Ben, Becks and Nat (clockwise)

He’s bought me breast shields (first in M size, then L, then XL – imagine his embarrassment when he kept returning to the store), read up and bought me my first breastpump (preloved, from a forum – imagine his embarrassment collecting it), asked female colleagues (who are mothers) how to help boost my milk supply (the Chinese will tell you soup, soup and more soup), made countless trips to the pharmacy to get fenugreek, nipple cream and lanolin ointment, and the market to get green papayas for soup every week during the confinement period.

This breastfeeding dad in our house also bought me a whole array of breastfeeding accessories ranging from the nursing pillow to the nursing poncho and all the different brands of breastpads, in addition to doing the four things mentioned above, three times in a row. Because of him, our three kids have had Mama’s elixir of milky goodness for almost 30 months put together.

Most fathers feel that breastfeeding is between mother and child. It doesn’t have to be so. It can involve you. Yes, dad, you. Together, as a family, you can conquer this and make postpartum days a lot easier to bear. And you don’t even need to wear fake boobs.

This story was brought to you by Philips AVENT. Philips AVENT is committed to helping parents give their babies the best start in life, with breastfeeding accessories that help along the way. Every Philips AVENT product is designed with mom and child in mind, and is intuitive, reponsive and easy to use. Their premium quality products support a mother’s choice to breastfeed, bottle feed or do both, by giving her the assurance that they are flexible and designed to support her and her baby.

To look out for more to come from Philips AVENT: www.philips.com.sg/avent

Disclosure: I reviewed the single electric Comfort breastpump and Natural range feeding bottles in earlier posts. This post is part of a series of sponsored conversations by Philips AVENT.

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Milestones and growing up The Kao Kids Thunderstorm days What to Expect... As a Mother

Mom, interrupted, Part 2

March 8, 2013

We haven’t been doing much homelearning these days. Murphy is quite the chap that’s been sticking around here lately, with the Kao kids taking ill, one after another.

First up, a case of vomitting, high fever, cough and runny nose, needing meds like Rhinatiol, Motillium and Adezio for almost a week.

Then someone had bronchitis and needed Flixotide, Combivent and Sodium Chloride in mist form thrice a day through the nebuliser.

Today, another kid threw up like clockwork and yet another epsiode of stomach flu has begun.

This whole week alone, the kids are finishing up the Paracetamol Suspension faster than I can pronounce ‘Paracetamol’, not to mention tissue papers.

With the remaining energy that’s left, we’ve only managed to go downstairs for mini explorations to search for critters…

Play ball with the baby who adores all things round every waking minute…

As well as try a few of the many craft materials in February’s Toddibox (review on that later!)…

It’s been quite a manic month, this March. I need to be showing Murphy the door.

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Milestones and growing up The Kao Kids Thunderstorm days What to Expect... As a Mother

Mom, interrupted, Part 1

March 6, 2013

Ever since the stay-home gig started on 1 March, it’s been nothing short of crazy here.

In fact, I’ll be frank and go as far to say it’s been *crap*.

I’ve been barking, hollering and watching my blood pressure go up while feeling my blood boil as I attempt to undo some years of bad habits and poor child training.

I would go, “Stop what you’re doing and let’s have breakfast now.”

And the kids would go:

“But I’m busy. I want to do what I’m doing.”

“No, I don’t want to eat breakfast. Eww, what’s that? Yucks!“

This happens for lunch time, bath time, nap time and whatever-Mama-says time. Every time.

Then there would be the meltdowns and temper tantrums ranging from not wanting to wear a particular piece of clothing I’ve chosen to not being the first in line for vitamins. Like the “why-you-give-whoever-the-vitamin-first-and-not-me” kind of silly tantrums.

Plus, arguments and fights on an hourly basis and having to put children in their time-out corners for I-dunno-how-many-bloody-times a day, a needy baby who wants to be carried ALL THE TIME, a four-year-old asking you incessantly “What can we do now?” and a middle child who’s practically screaming her own head off when things don’t go her way, I’m pretty much going beserk after 6 days.

I’m also doubling up as maid of the house because it is just impossible for the helper to manage the chores. So guess what, I’m also mopping the crayon stains, folding laundry and changing bedsheets. Every day, someone would wet the bed, spill milk, scatter Cheerios, litter the house with shreds of paper cut-outs and eraser shavings, and smear the walls with Crayola.

Yesterday’s dirty laundry

Two baskets of unfolded laundry

And then some more

But I’m no fool of a Mama that will accept things as they are, and have these kids continue to be poorly behaved.

Child training – this is how it begins.

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Milestones and growing up Parenting 101 Re: learning and child training The Kao Kids What to Expect... As a Mother

Fighting sleep at naptime: Kids 1, Mama 0

December 27, 2012

All three kids got to skip school after the Christmas holiday, just so I can have a taste of what my life would be like come next year March.

Actually, it’s because Nat has conjunctivitis (again!) and I had grand plans to read and do craft with the older two kids.

But I also managed to get a glimpse of what my life would be like next year. *Gulp*

Every day, I do the impossible. It’s just impossible to make them eat their breakfast, lunch and dinner without me yelling, threatening and tearing my hair out. It’s impossible to get them to the bath to be clean without having to count to three.

But that’s not the worst. The worst, and the one I dread most, is nap time.

In daycare, the two older kids (and now even Baby Nat) follow a routine. By 1pm, I hear, they would’ve had their lunch, shower and milk and would be fast asleep. The teachers tell me Ben and Becks have no problems at all falling asleep together with their friends. It’s peer pressure, they say.

It’s a different thing altogether at home. There’s no sign of sleepiness at 12, 1, 2, 3, no, not even 4pm. Even if they were up at 7am. I don’t give them sugary treats and so I am always wondering why it would take them so long to finally settle and take their afternoon nap. I’ll get them to start winding down by about 2.30pm, put them to bed by 3pm and they would be tossing, turning, chortling and saying the most random things to each other.

Ben: You’re so poot poot la la. Hahahaha.

Becks: You’re so di dom dar doo. Hee ha ha ha. La la la.

Ben: I’m not la. You silly pom pom pee.

Becks: YES! You sullee ballee tom tee.

Ben: NO! Poot poot doo doo.

Becks: YES! Ba baa yooooo….

Ben: NO!

Ben & Becks: (together) Hahahahahahaha!

This happens every day without fail. All this while the baby is whining outside, calling out in his babbling, “I need milk. I need my mother. I don’t want to be carried around by the maid. Oh please, would you let me join in the fun with my kor kor and jie jie”. All this while I’m asking them to stop the laughing and to close their eyes. All this while I’m holed up in the room for one and a half (precious) hours patting them till my hands are sore and numb.

Just now, I had to smack Becks five times on her diapered bum for doing the freestyle and breaststroke on her bed while pretending to close her eyes. I had to use the cane three times on her thighs for jumping in and out of bed despite my instructions to get in bed and prepare for nap. I also lost my cool at Ben who fidgeted and squirmed for two hours, to be exact (his sister finally fell asleep before him), picking his nose, scratching his ears, and pretending to be asleep. He was winking and blinking and secretly laughing at his sister while she was being disciplined.

Meanwhile my helpless helper outside the room was rocking my baby silly till he finally fell asleep, tired from all the whining for Mama.

People say in order to get as much rest as possible, I should sleep when my children do. I say, after getting all worked up, I’d rather put up this post than to lie in bed. And go eat some chocolates and think about how I’m gonna do things differently at tomorrow’s naptime.

Finally asleep! At last!

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Becks Kao Milestones and growing up Parenting 101 Re: learning and child training What to Expect... As a Mother

Mama’s not ready for toilet training even if you are

December 17, 2012

When you have one kid that constantly needs to be engaged, one kid that is always engrossed and one kid that’s perpetually putting things in the mouth ranging from dirt to plastic bottle caps (and more recently fir leaves from our Christmas tree), you can forget about toilet training.

It’s time to toilet train the middle child but it’s been nothing more than a daunting feat.

Picture this: the girl’s at the stage where she’s fully aware of her need to go, finds the diaper cumbersome and wishes to do her business swiftly and confidently, just like her kor kor. She takes off her diaper (or refuses to wear it) and goes about the house, doing her own things. Mom occasionally remembers she has diapers off so she asks her for the first ten minutes of her diaper-off time, “Do you need to pass urine?” and reminds her to go to the toilet if she needs to. Then Mom goes about the house, doing the things she needs to do to keep everyone out of mischief, such as reading to the eldest brother, role-playing with no-diaper-little-miss herself, and stopping the baby from chewing the house down, which includes running up and down the hallway, into rooms, toilets and kitchen 459 times. Very soon, half an hour passes and everyone forgets that little-miss is not wearing her diaper, including little-miss herself.

Little-miss has so far peed on the playmats, the coffee table, while sitting on the sofa and halfway through pretend play, craft lessons and just walking around the house. After every “accident”, we’d remind her to go to the toilet when she needs to pee and she’d say “ok!”. Have I ever mentioned I have a daughter who plays with a great deal of abandonment?

It was much easier with Ben, partly because he’s the first kid and partly due to the fact that he’s a boy. Boys have it easy. Especially with the trainer urinal. All I needed to do was to put the urinal at an accesible height in the toilet and the novelty of pee-ing soon caught on. That boy just couldn’t wait to pass urine and watch what comes out. When he needed to poo, he’d would yell for an adult to fix the child toilet seat, sit there, entertain himself while doing his business, and ask for reward stickers after he was done. It was such a breeze, and so much fun.

With Becks, we have to keep reminding her of her need to go and even physically drag her there because she tends to lose herself in play and can get so engrossed she wouldn’t move an inch. There have been successes, to her credit. Sometimes she’ll walk to the toilet and sit on her potty. But of late, she seems to realise it’s no fun squatting, so she imitates her brother. And instead of wiping her, I end up having to bathe her after every time she tries to pee like him because she’ll be wet waist down. I also end up saying “I’m busy as it is already so stop pretending you have a penis, please”.

The worst is when she wants to pee but doesn’t hurry to the toilet and is next to the baby. Have I also mentioned besides enjoying putting things in his mouth, the baby also enjoys splashing in puddles?

I’m insisting that Becks wear her pull-up pants for now. She might be ready, but I’m certainly not.

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Milestones and growing up The Kao Kids The real supermom What to Expect... As a Mother

Bye bye sleep training, bring on co-sleeping

September 11, 2012

The marriage bed has lost its sanctity. I thought I could preserve it, but alas. I have also officially lost the battle in sleep training.

Everyone’s now on our bed, in our room, every night; while fatherkao sleeps alone in the children’s room. So much for buying fancy bunk beds and cartoon bedsheets. For the kids, it’s not what they sleep on, but who they sleep with that matters.

So for a while now, we’re all sleeping in the master bedroom. Tuck-ins start at 9pm. Baby’s on my chest, Ben’s on my left and Becks is on my right. They fall asleep after a lot of nagging and threatening (of Mr Cane coming) from me.

We’ve managed to squeeze a toddler bed from IKEA and a toddler mattress on the floor in the master bedroom to accommodate everyone, so by 10pm when they all fall asleep, I shift everyone into position: Ben sleeps on the floor, Becks sleeps on the bed next to mine, and I sleep with the baby. Like this:

But with this arrangement, I shuttle around the room every night on a three hourly basis on good nights and an hourly basis on bad ones.

12am: Ben discovers he is alone on the floor. He gets up and cries. I awake (usually with great annoyance) and pat him to sleep in the little corner where his mattress is. On good nights, he sleeps through and gets over the fact the mother-presence is a metre away. On bad ones, he wakes up again and crawls onto the bed to search for my armpit and snuggles under it. Don’t ask me why. I think he feels very tucked in and safe under it.

2.39am: Baby Nat stirs and looks for the mother-presence, usually with his rooting reflex in full gear, ready to suckle for comfort. I indulge his bad, bad habit. Since going to infantcare, he has had the sniffles frequently and my heart has been broken so many times to see him ill. And so he suckles, left and right and right and left, all night long. And by the way, I do the moving from left to right and right to left – the baby doesn’t.

4.58am: Becks whines and asks for milk. Her night wakings have become less frequent, so on good nights she usually wakes up at this time to ask for milk. Some nights I ignore her and she falls asleep again. Some nights I roll over to her bed and hold her tight and speak to her in a soft voice telling her to wait till it’s “wakey wakey” time. Some nights she badgers till the baby wakes up and Ben starts stirring, and I do a shuttle run and make her milk at the fastest possible speed to stop her from crying the house down. Some nights she gives me hell even before this time with her night terror screams and I’m like running from one corner of the room to the other in a semi-conscious state making sure everyone is ok. During those nights, if they all wake up in shock and can’t go back to sleep, I gather everyone like a mother hen and we all huddle on the bed.

6.20am: Time for motherkao to wake up

My night duty applies for both weekdays and weekends. I’d thought if I delay tuck-ins a little later on weekends, the kids would probably be knocked out and not have me perform this running about in a groggy state, but boy was I wrong about that.

I’m severely sleep deprived. I’m so glad Kai Kai and Jia Jia are coming soon. I hear they are on a ten-year loan from China. Tis’ great cos’ for the next ten years of my life I will bring my kids to the zoo and teach them personification with illustrations: my mother is a panda.

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Becks Kao Happy days What to Expect... As a Mother

It’s my party and I cry if I want to

July 31, 2012

The little girl has officially turned two. Most of you know I’ve been having quite a challenging time with her. Ever since she was born, she was this screamy bundle that wouldn’t give a hoot about the time and place to let her wails out. When she was a baby, at least I had a pacifier. Now that she’s 24 months, it’s hard to stop her from her crying crescendos. At 24 months, she still doesn’t give a hoot about the time and place. Just this week alone, she threw hissy fits in the lift, at the lift lobby at our flat and in the carpark. She also tortured me and the baby at night by crying and kicking hourly, and into the wee hours of the morning. It would have been perfectly fine by me if she whimpered like a baby; but unfortunately she usually yells her lungs out and we end up having to shut the windows to save ourselves from being stoned by the neighbours. Oh yes, she also bit me on my left leg when she got angry with me for trying to put her to bed.

Her turning two has left me feeling a sense of anticipation and dread. I’m hoping things with her will get better soon enough. Or will it?

We had a celebration for her in school on Friday. We got her excited way before this day came and asked her what she wanted for her cake about three weeks before her birthday. She was into penguins then, so she quickly said “Penguin!” and I got Debbie (sweetyendings.blogspot.sg) to customise a healthy, pretty Penguin cake for her celebration (read how she made the cake). We arrived at the school early hoping to surprise the little girl with this gorgeous creation, and pretty colouring-book-and-pencils party packs we had painstakingly packed the week before.

But when she came to the dining area, her royal highness was looking like the grumps. She obviously threw a fit before coming in. Her teachers said she didn’t want to wake up from her nap. She saw me and started sobbing.

Despite the clowning around by her father and brother and cuddles from me, Little Miss Grumpy still wasn’t excited, or even look it. We went ahead with the celebration anyway. A hundred marks for the loveliest big brother of the century who tried to twit around her to make her laugh. Needless to say, our birthday star couldn’t care for it.

Finally, after some time, it suddenly hit her that it was her birthday. And that she was gonna have cake! That was when she finally smiled.

The cake was the best part of the party. It was uber yummy and wholesome. Chunks of banana and cinnamon and generous toppings of cream cheese. Not too sugary. Not too heavy. The children all ate with a smile on their faces. Becks’ bestie, KM, had three helpings! The birthday girl and her brother licked off the penguin’s eyes, nose and pink ribbon.

Finally. At last, my darling was happy.

She also got a party pack for her dainty self that reads “Thank you for being a part of my 2nd birthday celebration“. Thank you, my dear girl, for being a part of your own birthday celebration. I was so afraid you were gonna sulk throughout!

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Family life as we know it What to Expect... As a Mother

Three kids and not counting

July 4, 2012

I’ve heard them all and wouldn’t want to hear them again. Everywhere I go, people I meet see me with three kids and they ask if I’m going for the fourth. And when I say, no, thank you, they say why not, you’re so pro already, you should just have one more. They assume that just because I upload pictures of smiling children on my facebook, it means I have it all made and am having a smashing good time with three kids.

Not that there are no moments of smashing good times but I’m telling you, some days I think to myself: what the hell was I thinking, having three kids all at one go.

It’s really very, very tough. Even that is an understatement. Especially if you’re a hands-on mother and have no granny night care or weekend care. It’s even tougher, being a full-time working mom. There are no breaks, no date nights, no me-time. So I’ll state outright here that I.do.not.have.it.altogether. Come be the fly on my wall.

When it’s time to pick my kids from daycare after work everyday, my stomach churns – there’s a mix of excitement to see the kids, a sense of guilt for leaving them there for the last ten hours and a feeling of dread. Dread of meal hour, tuck-in hour and witching hour. The moment the gates of our flat are unlocked, it’s the cue for my kids to become whiny, sticky and completely incapable of following instructions. I know that’s supposed to be normal because they want my attention, having been deprived of it all day.

So every evening, Ben and Becks would whine non-stop to be carried, showered, fed and cuddled by me. The baby, having not seen me the whole day, is desperate for comfort from my boobs. I struggle to do the juggling act, trying to shove dinner, fruits and a little treat of jelly down their throats while nursing the baby. I try to read them books but the story would always be unfinished or interrupted. I say no all the time to Ben when he runs to me with activity packs of sand art, craft, sticker fun and join-the-dots, and end up feeling so guilty for not being able to do something with him. I break up fights eighty percent of my time in the evening. I run out of patience and lose my cool and sanity usually by 8pm. At night when they all need me for the tucking-in, I use one arm to hold and breastfeed the baby, one hand to hold my son’s hand because he needs to hold hands to fall asleep and one foot to pat my daughter. I take three-hour naps at night still, because Becks is still pulling her night terror stunts on me a nightly basis, complete with screams and ear-piercing shrieks. Doctors online and offline tell us that this is probably due to her need for more attention – she might not have had enough in the day, so she’s unconsciously waking up at night to get it. As of today, Baby Nat is in his tenth day of diarrhea. And with loose watery green stools eight to nine times daily, he’s got a blistered bum and a bad case of nappy rash, and I got a broken heart every time I change his diaper. To seal the deal, I’m totally exasperated communicating instructions to the helper who requires a repetition of anything I say at least five frigging times; some days it got so bad I ended up doing the thing I asked her to do myself – like preparing the baby’s bathwater or microwaving my food – because by the time I repeat myself five times, I might as well do what’s needed.

I know that in a larger scheme of things, this too shall pass and I will soon lament the lost years and cry my eyeballs out when my kids don’t need me like this anymore. I know that many people have it worse and they probably have to deal with problems bigger than mine and situations more dire than mine. I know that I ought to be thankful that we can at least afford a helper to do the never-ending bags of laundry, keep our house clean so we can be house-proud and wash the dishes so we can all hang out and spend family time together. I know I ought to be grateful that my tag team partner doesn’t complain whenever he gets tagged (and it’s very often) and supports me in every way possible, as much as he knows how. And I know, that God has given me three beautiful children, called me to a meaningful profession and I should really stop complaining and ranting like this.

For now, I am feeling totally inadequate, exhausted and overwhelmed. Please, somebody, tell me things will only get better.

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