Saturday, September 22, 2007

Max

Our beloved Max passed away last night after a very sudden complication with his bowels, and two surgeries conducted as a result of that. His bowels apparently twisted severely, possibly from a genetic disorder, causing him excruitiating pain.

We are not taking it well at all. We miss him so much. Our house is never the same again with our favourite son. I still look out at the backyard and expect him to run towards us urging us to play ball with him.

We love you Max. Mummy miss you very much. Thank you for being there for every single heartache we suffered the past few years. It was a pleasure to have you as a part of the family.


Sunday, September 16, 2007

Vomit

I am not a particularly bitchy person. I don't ever hold grudges against anybody - if I ever get angry enough to hate a person - it usually lasts as long as my short term memory - which is pretty short.

But right now, at this moment, I really want to yank my mother in law, by the head, and throw her out of my house.

Poopee became sick a few days ago. It was as per the doctor diagnosed - a common cold. As soon as she found out Poopee's sick, she nearly ramped her SVU into the post box on my driveway, creating skid marks, just to see Poopee. She threw me an angry look and said, `Is your daughter sick?' - as if its entirely my fault and my failure as a mother. When she saw Poopee - she was like, `Oh my God! You poor thing, don't worry grandma's here, you must be in a lot of pain you poor thing.'

I had the scary urge of doing that yank hair throw out of house thing.

Before I had a chance to do so - she had a go at me for taking her out to dinner the previous night, which, I must add, it was a dinner she participated in as well. Her sons wanted to take her out to dinner, and she didn't exactly turn the opportunity down. She said Poopee's now sick because we were `greedy' for restaurant food.

I don't know how to react to that comment except to say well then, we won't go out again at night for dinner. It's difficult - the typical reaction to that comment should be a stern `GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE'. But in my case, due to Apeman's closeness to his mother, it is difficult for me to have such a big reaction towards his saintly mother. It will cause a certain marriage rift. He has, on many occasions, tell me I should tell his mother exactly how I feel, but how can you? This woman doesn't listen. At times she is happy to humour me and do what I told her to, but eventually revert to what she feels is best. Other times she will speak down to me as if I am retarded. And anyway, how can I use Apeman's version of `stern language' and tell his mother where to go? She's bound to get upset and therefore causing troubles between me and Apeman.

I should be at my happiest. And I am in some ways. I look at my girl everyday and see that beautiful face of hers and wonder - how can we be so damn lucky? But lately, with my mother in law visiting us nearly every day (now that she has a reason to - Poopee), and spending up to four hours with us - watching us eat (she won't eat anything I cooked and look at what I cooked with an amused look), hogging Poopee, watching TV with us, talking to Apeman as if I don't exist - I feel like I want to vomit everytime I hear her car pulls up at our driveway. I want to throw her out even before she has a chance to get into our house. But I can't.

She makes me so unhappy. She makes me feel so unworthy sometimes with the things she say to me. And when I tell Apeman about it - he tells me its just the way his mum speaks. But it hurts. Everytime.

I must sound pathetic to you. I can't even stand up to this person in my own house.

Amusingly, she even told me I should stop breastfeeding Poopee when she was four months old. I found out later that it's because she expects me to return to the workforce and she will take over the full time care of my precious beloved. So it is easier for her for Poopee to be on formula.

This is one thing I can promise - not over my dead body will she be caring for my daughter.

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

The Passports

I can only write this quickly as Poopee is currently strapped unwillingly to her $14.95 stroller. From the gibberish baby noises she is making, it sounds a bit like `THIS IS SO NOT COOL MUM.'

We received our passports via special delivery today. I had to renew mine, and Poopee needs a spanking new one. Just want to say the way they want you to be photographed is plain crap. No smiles, no smirks, no sideway flattery shots (as per Mariah Carey who always gets photographed from her right hand side because its prettier). Me and Poopee ended up looking like constipated prison escapees with no soul.

Poopee still managed to look like a doll though. :)