Let sleeping babes lie.

One of our best moments, as new parents, is cradling the little one to sleep.

And we type away at the keyboard, or sit at the couch watching the latest episode of Heroes, CSI or Seinfeld, having his little warm body rest limp and soft upon our chest or lap. In fact, as I type babt DM stirs in his sleep on my lap in protest.

Some of these moments are captured here:



In the study, while Daddy works at his latest interview report on One-North tenants:



A close-up - My Mom-in-law (henceforth to be known as MIL)jokes that this is his thinking pose:



There's a photo of him sleeping against Daddy's bare chest. But to protect my husband's modesty, here's one of him being fed by Daddy, after having "worked" for his milk. (grinz)

Nine Weeks and a Wedding Anniversary

Last evening, we decided to persuade E's mom and dad to go out as a family unit - both of them, two of us, and little DM.

The outing marked the inaugural family dinner outside of WMC road - previously, they've been reluctant to, not wanting to expose the little tyke to the hot Singaporean weather and hawker centre environment.

We ate at ECP's hawker centre, ordering "zi cha" from one of the stall owners whom my inlaws were long-time patrons of. Dylan sat quietly in his maclaren stroller watching on, and drifting in and out of sleep.

So when my Dad-in-law confessed yesterday that 26 Feb was also their 41st wedding anniversary, I was really surprised and glad! 41 years of marriage is no joke, not in this day and age.

How wonderful that yesterday also marked Dylan's nine weeks.

He said it with a little smile playing on his face, a glint in his eyes belies his joy as a first-time granddad. E remarked that he's seen him smile more frequently in the nine weeks DM's been here than in the whole of last year.

What joy little ones bring.

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DM is 56.5cm long, and 5.3kg.

At his 6-in-1 vaccination last Friday, the ped said that he's a well-proportioned boy, and making good progress in his movements and reflexes.

Again, I am reminded to be thankful for the little things that show us that God watches over us.

Here are some photos that mark Dylan's progress over the last two months, starting from when he's 2 days old -



on 7 Jan, one day after my birthday, looking like he's going to do a slam dunk after his bath:



A day before he turns 1 month old (and showing one of his first fleeting genuine smiles!) :



Here's him last week playing under his baby gym:



And finally, here's the photo that we'll most likely use when we apply for his first Singapore passport:

Struck by Yeats

Stumbled across an online harvard lecture on WB Yeat's poem Among School Children where this following stanza from the poem jumped out at me:

(as you read these lines, picture me, a youthful mother, looking upon her son, whom someday she knows will ask questions about life that she may never be able to answer.

Yeats, here, is ruminating over some of these questions as he is invited to a montessori school in Dublin as a guest before young pre-schoolers.)

V
What youthful mother, a shape upon her lap
Honey of generation had betrayed,
And that must sleep, shriek, struggle to escape
As recollection or the drug decide,
Would think her son, did she but see that shape
With sixty or more winters on its head,
A compensation for the pang of his birth,
Or the uncertainty of his setting forth?

These astounding lines.

Dylan's birth forced questions about our mortality upon me. Questions about what the point of life is - for me, the worries of the uncertainties of "his setting forth", what he'll be like at sixty.

Just as Yeats here looks on at his audience of pre-schoolers, and also wonders if his own mother would have found "the pang of his birth" worthwhile.

After all, at the end, we all become "old scarecrows", with physical death the unavoidable fate that awaits us all. For me, the truth becomes more painful realising that I most likely won't stick around long enough to see my son at sixty.

Yeats, by that age, was an accomplished poet, a Nobel Laureate, at least.

By earthly achievements, he's arrived. And yet, it is interesting that even he, realising himself a "sixty year-old public smiling man" at this montessori school in Dublin, wonders if all our endeavours end up being "O self-born mockers of man's enterprise".

Anyway, the professor delivering this lecture, Vendler, is well worth listening to, if you're interested:
http://athome.harvard.edu/programs/vendler/vendler_unint_set.html

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I asked E the other night about God.

And something Rick Warren said in the 40 Days of Purpose programme. Or rather, what the Bible says, and something Warren uses to remind us about our eternal purposes.

Firstly, our lives are about God, not about us. That's ok with me.

It's just that the second thing he says, is that we are made for eternity. That raises questions for me.

Eternity, or infinity, by definition, has no beginning nor end. Certainly, our God is the alpha and omega, both the beginning and the end.

Yet, if we are made for eternity, how is it that we all had a starting point ie. our births? Where were we, viz. God before we were born? If my personal relationship with God is eternal, where did it begin?

I asked Elroy if truly we existed in some form before we were born. Perhaps as Plato had imagined it, an ideal form of us existed, and then on an appointed day we are cast into a fallen world screaming in its shadows, grasping for the truth of who we are and what we are meant to be. And only at the consumation of our physical death, would we truly comprehend the nature of our existence in God's eternal plan.

Obviously, E. said that I was thinking too much again.

I guess I'll just have to put this down as another thing I must remember to ask my Lord and Master when I meet Him!

First Few Days

DM's first bath - the quintessential naked photo that all parents will inevitably end up showing their children's girlfriends to their sons' great embarrassment. (evil grin) DM is screaming his head off in this picture, poor thing!

Ok back to documenting DM.

The first few days of his life saw very few hours of sleep for both of us – so in many ways it went by in a total blur.

With the new year just round the corner, E had to run off to late-night drinking parties, and the New Year’s Eve countdown at Marina Bay. We took down the Christmas tree, and sent DM to the clinic three times over two weeks to ensure that his bilirubin level doesn't go above 200.


And other than learning to cope with this new person in the bedroom and his erratic night-sleep, I had to complete my 3,000 word personal statement and submit the online application to Harvard School of Ed before 2 Jan 07. Phew! Will know the results in April.

Still, I’m grateful we had time to have friends come over, and I even managed to sneak out for a dinner or two (especially loved our escapade to Sakae Sushi on Day 5!)




Seng, Joy and Jill before our escapade.

My dear friends Norani and Cheryl from work.

Happy Pigs' Year! Babies in Epoch-defining times

A very happy lunar new year to all – especially for those born in the year of the Pig! My mom is one, her birthday being in 1947, two years after the end of the second World War.

I’ve often wondered about what it was like to be born in the war years.


I suppose being mere babes my parents wouldn’t have remembered, known, or felt, the enormity of their times.



Despite this, there’s a funny kind of prestige that goes with being a member of the “baby boomer generation”. And I often wished that I could be associated with epoch-making moments in history – you, know, the type that end up in history books, or being made into movies.

In some ways, maybe this prestige will follow DM when his children go to school in future – and learn about how the Internet was born and how it changed the face of globalization in their history books. Heh heh.



Anyhow, here are some of our first photos after bringing DM home from KK.

With the grandparents.

Aunty Swee Keng, DM's first visitor!

E burping the son after his first formula feed (Nestle's Nan, courtesy of KK).

Day 1 - at the hospital

27 Dec 2006.
Spent the night before at KK - cold, uncomfortable, legs still heavy with the after-effects of the epidural. Recall being deluged with friends and family visiting DM and cooing over him after we were wheeled from the delivery suite to the ward around lunch time Boxing day, and at the same time being very, very tired.

E and I were totally blown away by the well-wishes that came - especially from the cell group and friends from church. My own family was there, complete with the three nieces and nephew, eager to look at the new addition to the extended family.

And of course, the excited first-time grandparents. And E, learning to swaddle DM, practised his newfound daddy skills over and over again, wrapping and unwrapping him in KK's signature blue swaddling cloth.

We decided to check out of hospital the very next day cos' the doctors (gynae and ped) gave the all-clear. Plus I didn't fancy another night in an uncomfortable hospital bed, having E spend another night in the ward, and taking hospital food. I totally get why hospitals, even if you're there for a joyous event as this, are dreary places for the convalescing.

I was pretty disappointed looking at myself in the mirror - that post-pregnancy bulge still showing, and my wan, colourless face telling of a really long delivery that I'd much rather forget!
To quote E, after being with me through the whole thing from Christmas morning when we found that my waterbag broke - he said "this makes Saving Private Ryan a walk in the park"!



Here's a picture of the proud grandparents!



E still looks fresh tho he hardly slept the night before! Must be the magic of carrying your own little bundle of joy.

Among family and friends - what better way to celebrate?

Here's me looking more cheerful than I actually was - dead-tired, that is.

A big hello to the world!

Alrightee folks!

Some friends have encouraged us to start blogging - as a way of keeping these precious first few months of memories with DM intact.

Of course, and to share about the little moments that make learning how to be Mom and Dad so pregnant (forgive the pun!) with humour, and tears too.

Here's a picture of DM who burst out into this world yelling at 8.39am on Boxing Day after a super harrowing 24-hour delivery:


Aside from the temporary head trauma caused by the forceps, he looked every bit the angel and gift from God that he is.

We're biased, of course. =)

Holding A Newborn - At Home