A Mom's Survival Guide

Haha.. today is Monday and I am feeling the blues. So, first thing I did today was brwosing through my blog list and found Vivy's post on "a mom’s survival guide".




Yesterday was my brother's solemnization day. So, we had to be in Kapar before 10am.

3 years ago, that means waking up at 8.30am. Iron my clothes and hubby's. Put on makeup and left the house by 9am or  9.30am if you feel slightly adventurous. His daddy can always drive like in F1 race and I would enjoy the ride. 

Now, it means I have to sleep late the previous night to cook my son's food for 3 full meals. I was feeling a little bit lazy, so I just a cook a pot of mix grain & fish porridge with a lot of vege. Once cooked, keep it warm. 

I woke up at 6am to take a bath and ironed both me and hubby's clothes. Can't do it last night since the iron was conquered by my brothers and parents.

Then, while my hubby was taking his bath.. I woke up my grouchy, sleepy baby to be bathed at 6.45 am. Meanwhile, my hubby boiled a jug of hot water for my baby's bath. My water heater was not working since.. a year ago I think? It need to be repaired but I just can't find the time to do it.

Bath trial Numero Uno. My baby peed as soon as his feet touched the bath water. It was okay, normal occurence. Daddy just need to reboil another jug of hot water.

Bath trial Numero Deux. My baby peed on me as soon as we reached the bathroom. It was okay, I was not dressed yet so a pee on my towel was no issue. Feet touched water. Bum down. He pooed in the hot water, right on my hand. This was not good. But, life must go on. Daddy boiled another jug of hot water.

Bath trial Numero Tres. Repeat bath trial Numero Uno.

The real bath. A crying baby being bathed at 7am with room temperature water direct from my not-fully-functioning-water-heater. 

7.15am, baby bathed and dressed. Plonked my clingy koala to daddy, who should be fully dressed by then. I need half hour on my own to dress up, put my makeup and style my shawl. I refused to attend my brother's ceremony looking like a bibik. I put like a thousand pin and brooches on my shawl, pin it at my bra strap (just like Vivy's suggestion) so no matter how strong my baby pulled my shawl, it will still be there.. unmoving.

Half an hour afterwards, fully dressed and looked like a gorgeous mummy I always dreamt to be.. I went to the kitchen to reheat the porridge and put it in my thermos food container. Pack a food and snacks bag for my baby. Water bottle, Milk bottle, Food thermos, bread and bananas.. I am starting to judge my decision to serve only home cooked and healthy meal for my baby. Why can't I just feed him roti canai just like adult? 

Then, I feel my spare tyres.. No, he must have a good start in life. Let the spare tyres generation stopped at mine.

At 8.15am, we left the house with a crying baby. Put him in the car seat. Feed him the milk and followed by porridge. He finished everything and still feeling hungry. Feed him more bread.

At 9am, stopped at the petrol station in Shah Alam just because my baby pooed again. No baby room. I washed the bum of a bay who tried his very best to run away from cold tap water while trying to preserve my dignity and my clothes from being pooped stained and wet. Before I left, rinsed the toilet sink because it was stained in brown from my baby's poop. 

My son was a cranky the whole journey. No amount of snacks, boobies or Upin Ipin can soothes him down. Well, he was stucked at the car seat and I refused to pick him up. Huhu..

At 10am, I arrived at the first check point. Tired. I already had a long day.

But, well.. we still look good in photos.. at least :P