SuperDad

What makes a SuperDad?

Yes, I've just watched Superman Returns with Daphne leaving Maegan with my in-laws. Enjoyed the movie but left me thinking about this question. What makes a Dad super?

Like it or not, one of the key plot of all the Superman movies is that of the relationship between him and his father. We all know the famous line by Jor-El (Superman's Dad).

"You will travel far, my little Kal-El. But we will never leave you... even in the face of our deaths... the richness of our lives shall be yours. All that I have, all that I've learned, everything I feel... all this, and more... I bequeath you, my son. You will carry me inside you all the days of your life. You will make my strength your own, and see my life through your own eyes, as your life will be seen through mine. The son becomes the father, and the father the son. This is all I can send you, Kal-El."

When I saw that replayed on the screen last night, I thought about Maegan. I used to watch Superman as a child and now, I watch it as a dad. And you think to yourself, what makes a SuperDad?

For one, I think Jor-El's quote forms a good summary.

1. SuperDads always believe in his child's potential.
2. SuperDads will always be by their children's side.
3. SuperDads teaches and imparts life to their children.
4. SuperDads becomes a source of inspiration for their children.
5. SuperDads are a pillar of strength for their children.
6. SuperDad's legacy will be that of the lives of his children.
7. SuperDads are a model for his children.

I wonder if I'll become a SuperDad? I guess I can only try. The least I can do is to try wearing my underwear outside.

Will you?

Bumper Stickers for Dads

Since we are on the topic of driving, I've been thinking about all the different car-decals or bumper stickers that all dads can have on their cars. You know, the cool ones on the car in front of you that makes your day when you are stuck in peak hour traffic.

Here are some that I came up with while driving recently:

1. D.U.I. - Driving Under Influence
2. If you can hear the baby cry, you are too close.
3. Go ahead and knock me. If the baby cries, I'll hold you accountable.
4. Baby on Board. (And she's driving!)
5. Please do not horn, you might wake the baby.
6. If I'm driving too slow, I'm breast-feeding.
7. Do not overtake. Baby may scream.
8. Princess on Board. The frog's driving.
9. Sleeping beauty on board. Beauty disappears when baby wakes.
10. Breast-feeding in progress. Horn at your own risk.

If it's good enough, I may make them and sell. This dad is saving up funds for baby's milk when wife stops breast-feeding.

Keen? I'll give you a discount. :)

p.s. if you ever read the above quotes on cars anywhere, you read it here first.

D.U.I. - Driver Under Influence

Have you ever drove under influence?

I don't mean the illegal kind where you drink and drive. That's irresponsible by the way. I meant influence of another kind. A much more disturbing one I might add. What can be worse than drinking and driving?

Well, try a crying baby.

It's hard driving when baby cries. Perhaps we are alone in this but when Maegan cries in our car, she is quite an influence.

You can't really concentrate on the road, you are upset because she was sleeping so soundly until your beloved mother or mother-in-law does everything possible to wake her to play and hands her over when she cries.

You speed a little because you want to get the journey over and done with but gets irritated with inconsiderate drivers who seems to cut into your lane without ever using a signal light. You turn up Mozart playing on Symphony 92.4FM hoping that it will calm your daughter down given that she has been listening since she was 4 weeks in the womb but she seems to cry even louder. Darn. It's Beethoven, not Mozart.

And finally, you arrive home. Safe and sound. Everyone, including the car, in one piece safely back home, with baby still crying. You step out of the car and you think to yourself "how on earth did I survive that?"

But you did. Well, actually, my wife did. She's the D.U.I. today.

What was I doing? Carrying the crying influence.

Two grown men. Two groaning dads.

Two pints of beer, one giant screen, peas and nuts in a bowl and half a dozen chicken wings on the way, two grown men sat and chat. Two topics dominated their conversations. One more than the other. Two grown men, sitting in a pub talking about ...

Poo and football.


"I can't believe you haven't change her diaper yet" says the Irish dad. "Wait till she gets older and her poo changes from sweet smelling to stinky, you might regret not changing her ealier". My only reply "When my baby poo once every two or three days, it's as bad as you can get." As bad as the way England played Ecudor last night. Two dads groan in agreement.

Our conversation went from the frequency of poo to the tips in putting babies to sleep (I meant bed), from how much we enjoyed our daughters (Hailey is 3 weeks older than Maegan) to how much we enjoy seeing Manchester United lose. Two dads enjoyed a chat that most would think only women enjoy (football aside).

The night was so enjoyable that even when his wife called, it was right when the referee whistled for half-time. How timely. How nice.

The trick we found to enjoying ourselves as dads getting together, is to wrap all our loves into all our conversations.

In the midst of FIFA World Cup, one of the greatest sporting event in the universe, one with more spectators than the Summer and Winter Olympics combined, two grown men sat to talk about the three loves of their lives.

Wife, Kids and Football. Our wives would be proud we got the sequence right.

Matthew 19.30. You go figure :o)

She makes my day

A man asked his friend why he constantly keeps a photo of his wife in his wallet. His friend took out the photo and replied "Somedays when things are getting really bad in the office, I look at the photo and say to myself 'what can be a bigger problem than this?' and my day gets better."

I've had a bad week. In fact, I've been pretty down because of some issues at work recently. Nothing new. Just part and parcel of my job that everyone goes through. However, this time round is slightly different. Maegan's in the picture.

The thing with work and family is that it is difficult to separate the two from each other. You bring some part of home into work because everyone asks you about Maegan and how Daphne is doing and you enjoy sharing details about daddyhood at work.

When you reach home, you share with your wife how things has been and the joys and struggles you go through in the office. You don't really have a clean cut deal when it comes to drawing a line between work and home.

But, with Maegan is different. To her, I'm just dad. At this stage, all she can do is to wail, cry or stare. Occasionally, she smiles. Most of the time when she's sleeping. That makes my day.

So while it has been tough the last few days, when I get home and see both Daphne and Maegan at home, I feel better. When I carry her in my arms and see her beautiful eyes staring at her dad, I lose track of the problems I face and slip away into the quiet world of daddyhood where the joy is simply being with my baby.

It makes my day better simply being home. The world may turn topsy turvy around me, being dad somehow gave me a sanctuary in the middle of a storm that I never had before.

And when I finally tuck her to bed, I return to face reality. Somewhat, stronger.

Graduating Daddy 101

I've graduated from Daddy 101. I just bottle-fed Maegan for the first time today.

Before you crucify me for only doing it just, I have my valid reasons for taking so long to start.

First and most importantly, I have no breast. Therefore, no milk.

Secondly, feeding Maegan has been the sole responsiblity of Daphne's, thereafter the confinement nanny, than Nina our helper in that particular order. Notice that I didn't even made it to top 3.

So now that our confinement nanny has left, I've been promoted and took my chance to bottle-feed Maegan today. In fact, I had to fight off my helper to get the chance. And I relished every moment of it.

It is so fun feeding Maegan. She's really alert when you feed her and with her big round eyes, she stares at you. Observing ever aspect of her dad. His eyes, his face, his ears and his hair... "his hair... why does it look so much like mine?" would probably be what Maegan's thinking.

Her dad stares at her too. It's a nice feeling looking into her eyes. Feeding her is a great chance to see the details of her face, her double eyelids, little rashes that has surfaced, and her hair, oh yes, her hair. (She's definitely mine!)

So after one month of daddyhood, I've graduated from Daddy 101. I've carried her, cuddled her, sang her lullabys, tuck her into bed, pat her to sleep, burp her and now, the final test of Daddy 101, I've bottle-fed her.

I can't wait for Daddy 201.

If you are wondering how come Diaper Change isn't in Daddy 101, I've checked my course manual. It seems Diaper Change is in Mummy 101, Nanny 101, Helper 101, Grandma 201 and Daddy 501. So it seems I have to wait for a while more. Darn. :o)

Thinking funny

I think being a dad makes you think funny.

I'm serious. I've already decided what I'm getting Maegan for her 16th birthday. A baseball bat.

At the rate this girl is growing, I think she would become a really gorgeous young girl with many admirers and suiters. That's where the baseball bat comes into the picture. No guy can come close to my precious girl. I'll bat his head off! (Told you I'm thinking funny lately)


I think it's a natural instinct of a dad to be protective of his precious daughter. It's in our nature isn't it? To provide and to protect. Since the day man were hunters, we sought to provide protection and provision for our loved ones. Man hasn't change in millenniums.

So, on Maegan's 16th birthday, I'll buy myself a baseball bat and hang above my TV with the words in bold print "For the protection of daddy's precious girl." I can even picture the effect it can have on guys when they step in. Hmmm....

Recently, I started thinking about how I would react when my daughter gets married. When I'll be walking her down the aisle, all dressed in white, and hand her over to another guy. I think I'll be so heartbroken. I think I'll look forward to that day yet dread it at the same time.

What's happening to me?

Just a while ago in the shower, I was thinking about me and Daphne growing old and living with Maegan and her family. Was picturing the scenario and wondering how that will feel. It's crazy but once in a while, such thoughts flashes across your mind without warning.

The best part of it all, Maegan is all but one month old.

Help!!!

A month worth celebrating

What a weekend!

If you think planning a birthday party was difficult, try having two. That's what we did. Two parties to celebrate the happiest of all occasions: Maegan's one month birthday. Indeed a day (or two) to celebrate.

Turning one month is a big deal. In the days of old, well at least in our chinese context, turning one month means you are viable. Perhaps, in the days of my grandparents' grandparents, not every baby gets through one month. For a whole variety of reasons as well. Malnutrition, bad hygiene, sickness like tubercolousis, influenza all but make infant mortality a big worry then.

So to cross one month is a big deal. A huge deal.

While medical advancement and standard of hygiene are so far ahead from the days of old, celebrating a baby's one month is still a major deal.

Not just because it signifies the end of one month of confinement for the mum (and dad), it also marks the day of freedom for the parents who can now safely take the baby out to shop (which we did on the day itself) without people staring at you and wondering what kind of parent you are taking the baby out during confinement. It is a bad thing to do so it seems.

It means now the mother can eat almost anything she wants and not be constraint to ginger, vinegar and sesame oil. Most importantly, the mum can now shower without any prejudice from mothers, in-laws and well-meaning auntieswho seems to appear, without formal invitations, with comments of epic proportions. Those that points to the world collapsing becasue the mother showered during confinement.

There's so much to celebrate about Maegan turning one month old. So much so that we had two parties instead of one. Saturday for my family and friends and Sunday for Daphne's family and friends. We even had our close friends from New Zealand making it on Sunday which is so cool.

At the end of two busy days this past weekend, after hours of needful sleep and rest, I can now sit down and take stock of all that has happened.

I look back through our photos of Maegan and remember all that has happened this past one month. So many stories, so many moments, joyful at times, fearful at times. Many times full of shit, and often, the lack of which causes the worry. (*I meant Maegan's constipation problem that has been going on and off. It's a worry when she goes 3 or 4 days without passing motion but when she does, she DOES.)

It's been eventful and one worthy of a big celebration. And celebrated we have.

Not just for all I've shared above but most importantly, we celebrate because Maegan is well, healthy and drop dead gorgeous. We celebrate because we want to. Because everything about her is worth celebrating. Especially when shit* happens.

:o)

Moments

One of my favourite taglines of all times are the words Kodak Moments. Eastman Kodak got it spot on. Every photo is about capturing a moment. A moment that you don't want to lose. A moment that will last a lifetime either in your memory or on a photo. A moment that if you miss it, is sometimes gone forever.

I missed a moment today. Maegan had just got her first haircut. Where was I? Delivering Baby's one month celebration cakes to relatives.

It's funny how you discover what's important to you when you grow older. I used to love travelling and flying around but now, I just want to stay at home with Daphne and Maegan. I love the World Cup and would glue myself to the screen (which I still do) but I would be happy to leave the TV set just to hold my baby and tuck her to bed.

And just as I was showering just a while ago, I realised how much missing Maegan's first haircut was for me. I think I'm slowly realising that I don't only love capturing moments on photos, I live to be in one.

I'm grateful to be one of the dads that has flexible work hours. Above everything else, it gave me the chance to be at every gynae visit with Daphne. The thrills of seeing the growth of the fetus, the wave she did while she was only 14 weeks, the time we were charged double for the scan because the nurse thought she saw Daphne having twins, all but create moments that would live in my memory for a long long time.

Moments while beautiful are not always happy. The numerous scares we've had, the day Mattheus was born, the day and place we scatter his ashes all forms the many moments I have in my memory. Some on print, many simply in memory.

Perhaps I'm overly greedy. I truly want to be around for everything with Maegan. Her birth, her first burp. Her first smile. The first time she flips over on her own. The first word that she would say (I'm taking bets that it would be Liverpool), her first poop (maybe not that). Perhaps I'm just greedy but I think, like every other dad in this world, I just want to have those moments in my memory. I know I cannot and most probably will not be there for everything, but I'll try.

So yes, I missed her haircut today. Felt a little bumped about it. I came home to a more trimmed Maegan. Equally as cute, just with lesser hair than when I left her. She still cried the same. She still fussed the same. Wanting to sleep but not wanting to close her eyes. Everyone tried carrying her to stop her crying but it's not proving to be easy.

And in comes her dad. He picks her up in his arms and performs every heroic stunts and use every trick in the bag to make her sleep. He sings and hums to her, talks to her, pats her and cuddles her amidst all her crying and fussing. And then, in a magical moment, she stops. Her eyes firmly closed and nicely tucked in the arms of her dad.

He carries her, places her on her cot and tucks her in. Her dad makes sures she's comfortable and walks out to the living room. "She slept?" asks everyone and "Yes" was my reply with a proud grin on my face. Another moment.

I'll settle for that today. :o)

The world of confinement

In Singapore, the word confinement does not mean the solitary confinement like those in nasty Guantanamo Bay which the USA needs to close with immediate effect. It actually means a month long staying at home for the mother of a new born kid. Yes, both mother and baby stays at home for the whole one month.

These are the rules:

1. No going out.
2. No aircon.
3. No washing of hair.
4. No showering (apart from hot herbal bath).

Yes, that is the life of a mum in confinement. You hire a confinement nanny for the month to take care of both the mum and the baby. She cooks a series of confinement food that are typically full of sesame oil, ginger and vinegar. The best part of it all, the food actually tastes nice.

So in the midst of this one month of confinement, what do dads do? "Nothing!" cries the mother. Well, if you are like me, you eat. And eat. And eat.

Dads have a special role during confinement. We are like a mixture of pomp pomp girls (cheerleader), delivery boy (fetching anything the mother needs), purchasing manager (buys everything the mother wants), office boy (fills up all the forms needed by everyone), accountant (tabulating all the expenses incurred so far), operator (answering all of mothers phone calls) and messenger ("sms"ing everyone about how baby is doing) all rolled into one.

We sometimes morph into a handyman. Fixing up the baby monitor, setup musical mobiles, explain how milk warmers work after reading japanese instruction manuals (it's the pictures you see), unpack and setup the sterilizer, setting up the baby rear view mirror in the car, figure out how the car seat works and occasionally, help our wives see how much milk they have expressed out already (if you don't know what expressing means, please read previous blog).

So if both dad and mum has so much to do during confinement, who gets to enjoy?

Baby.


This one month, Maegan has only three things to do. Feed, Sleep and Cry. Nothing else. Just these three magical moments that gets you out of bed in the middle of the night and yet smile.

If that's not magic, tell me what is.

P.S. If you wondering how we survive the confinement month and yet remained so positive, I'll let you in on a secret. The key is to ignore rules 1 - 4. But remember, at your own risk. Police dressed as mother-in-laws are always round the corner somewhere.

Interesting Conversations

Did you ever notice how conversations change the moment you become a dad? I saw the difference in my conversations with people when Daphne became pregnant 9 months prior but the change was significant the moment Maegan was born.

Some topics still remains. Football, soccer, Liverpool, Liverpool, World Cup, all the topics that are a matter of life and death. But the rest of the conversations seem to revolve around Maegan.

You meet a group of friends for drinks and the first question they ask you is "how's Maegan doing?" You enter your office and your collegues ask you "how's Maegan doing?". You go for lunch meeting and your partners ask you ... you got it ... "how's Maegan doing?"

I've just got home from Australia and the conversations I had with friends and collegues there still revolves around Maegan at tea-breaks, breakfasts, lunches and dinners. They are conversations I enjoy but I found it facinating.



What's interesting too is that your vocabulary changes as well. Words takes on new meaning in your journey as a dad. Here's what I mean:

Expressing is no longer a word that means "to convey (a thought or feeling) in words" but rather now "a method of extracting breast milk".

Feeding Time no longer reminds me of fond memories at the Singapore Zoo but rather the hour (mostly unearthly) where baby needs milk.

Dummy is no longer a word that means a "replica or model of a human being" but rather now another name for "pacifier".

Wind is no longer "a gush of air" but rather now a lay man term for "colic".

So many words that once means one thing to you, now means another. In conversations with other parents, it becomes an exchange of stories, tips and suggestions about parenting. You not only become acutely aware the number of children your friends have but you learn in detail each of their birth process.

As conversations continue, you learn their family history, how each child behaves or misbehaves, how each child means so much to their parents and you share with them their many fond memories.

It's details that normally get swept under the carpet in daily conversations between friends but comes alive when parents meet. Especially with parents of a new born baby. Like us.

Conversations. Interesting aren't they?

Leaving Home .. Part II

Remember how I was saying that I had only 5 mins in my last post? Well, the moment I clicked "Publish Post" and logged off, the PA system above me went "Calling Passengers for Australian Airlines to Cairns, Mr Martin Tan, please board the gate immediately." My 5 seconds of fame.

So here I am, seated at Sebel Reef House lounge in Cairns. Why am I blogging at a lounge? Well, because in this technologically advanced country, they (still) have dial-ups in our rooms and broadband wireless network in the lounge. Perhaps it's a resort thing. Focus is to rest. Not work. And here we are, working in Cairns.

We arrived this morning at 4.40am, the sky dark as chocolate, travelled to the hotel, had breakfast, started meeting and by the time we were done, it's dinner time and it's dark again. The famous Great Barrier Reef is just in front of the resort but it's dark again. The Reef isn't great looking at night.

Well, why do I sound so whiny? It's because I miss home. I miss Daphne and I miss my baby gal. It was great fun catching with the team. The guys from Australia and New Zealand. It's one big family and everyone is saying how cute Maegan is and I get to be the proud dad showing off her photos on my phone. The fact is, I still miss them and I would really rather be home now than sleeping beside the Great Barrier Reef.

It was great fun though talking to friends about Maegan. Being dad brings with you different sets of questions. My conversations revolves around Maegan it seems. Does she wake up alot? Is Daphne breastfeeding? How's mummy coping with bubba? And you know what? I enjoy chatitng about Maegan. I enjoy telling everyone how she peed all over Daphne when she was being showered (Daphne just told me earlier when I called home about it) and how Daphne prayed for her to have hair when she was born because she has already bought hairclips.

We still talked about work and it was great. But talking about Maegan as a dad, now that's quite something.

Leaving home

5 mins and I'll leave on a Qantas flight to Cairns for work. 5 days. Without Daphne, without Maegan. Travelling isn't the same anymore without family.

I used to love travelling. I love the flights, the movies on board, the meeting of friends, meetings, working in another country. It was great travelling. Keyword: Was.

Now, leaving alone without Daphne and Maegan feels different. This is the first time I'm leaving as a dad. Never quite processed how I would feel. Didn't quite expect to be so difficult.

Just got off the phone with Daphne and she asked if I wanted to talk to Maegan. I said yes and there on the other side, wailing, crying. It's time to feed. Makes you miss the crying when you are travelling. When you are there in person, it's a different story.

So here I am, at Changi Airport Terminal 2 leaving for work. My 5 mins is up. Gates closing and I need to log off. Hmm...

To be continued ...

20mins

20mins was all I could do. I like to accomplish more but given her traumatic episode of drawing blood on Saturday and the state of shock she was in the last two days, I go only bear with 20mins. Yes, I lost again in our rematch since Cinderella Dad. This time, just 20mins.

Daphne and I stood for quite a while by her cot watching her cry. Almost 101 positions she was in wailing away like a police siren that pierces through the air. It is almost unbearable. Everything within me wanted to just carry her but we know that if we do that, she would get used to it and do it again every night. And every night it has been.

So we decided to walk away. After knowing that her diapers are clean, that she is thoroughly fed, and that she was comfortable, we left her room to cry.

What can a parent do in times like this? If you pick her up, you are spoiling her. If you don't, you live with the fear that she might feel unloved. Either way, you seem to lose.

You read books and different authors say different things. Some say you should let her be while others say, hear the different types of cry and pick her up if she cries too long. No man's land we as new parents are in.

One thing we do know, we need to help her draw a line and create a routine for her. If she knows she will be picked up and cuddled once she cries, she'll keep doing it. The key is for us to not pick her up and she will slowly learn that she can cry all she wants but her parents will not come in until it's time for her to feed or wake up. Over time, she gets into a routine and her parents gets to sleep.

But alas, the brain that has the knowledge forgot to inform the heart.

And so we sat on our beds, shaking our heads in despair. What should we do? Let's perservere we say and we sat waiting. Daphne picked up her Baby Wise book and I, well, stared at my computer wondering how long I can stay composed. How long I can continue to hear her scream. Yes, if you noticed the change of verbs, she has gone from crying to wailing to screaming.

20mins later, I looked at Daphne and she looked at me and with our daughter screaming in the background, I gave up and went into her room. I picked her up, gave her some water to sooth her throat and stared at her big round eyes who's staring back at this heartless dad who had just let her cry for 20mins.

After 3 weeks (she turns 3 weeks today) of parenting, Maegan has won the match again. Let me change that, she was won the battle again. The war continues and I'm determined to win the war but for this battle, her daddy lost. And she won.

I've managed 20mins tonight. I'll try to do better the next time.

That Terrible Feeling

One of the toughest thing I think as a brand new dad is to cope with the feeling of helplessness. It's true and I'm being honest.

It's 1.11am and Maegan is fast asleep. Soundly I might add. Just less than 15mins ago, it was a completely different story altogether. She almost cried the roof down.

It started about 9 - 10pm when she started crying non-stop. I was out and Daphne, her mum, and our confinement nanny tried almost every trick in the bag but she wouldn't stop. Josephine, Daphne's massage lady carried Maegan for a while, massaged her baby feet for a while and asked if she had gotten a jab. Without knowing Sunday's hospital visit, Josephine was right. Maegan ,it seems was somewhat in shock after drawing blood.

Right through the night, she kept crying, feeding, sleeping and crying again. Not her typical cry that stops after you cuddle but one that kept going on.

Worst for me was she seems to cry louder when she is in my arms. It wasn't like this the whole of last two weeks. I was able to calm her down. Soothe her with music and humming. She liked it. She slept, in my arms but now, she wouldn't. Not even when I sang her "You'll never walk alone." (which almost always work by the way)

I can't help it but think that she's angry and upset with me because I allowed her to be hurt in a very painful way. I was the last face she saw before she got jabbed and the first face to pick her up after.

So at 12.00am when she started crying again, I asked to carry her. I wanted her to know that daddy is around and loves her and will cuddle her until she sleeps but she kept on crying. Passing her on to our confinement nanny brought little comfort. She was better with her but she still cried.

We checked everything. Fed her water, changed her diapers, cuddled, and rocked her. She still cried.

And then the feeling hit me. It's terrible feeling helpless especially for a guy.

Why do I say that? Well, guys are "Mr Fix-It". They are typically the ones that seems to be able to reboot the computer when it has crashed. They are the ones that knows how to connect the DVD player to the TV in the bedroom, much to the delight of wives. Guys are problem solvers. We need to problem solve if not we can't sleep.

If our PDA doesn't sync with our computers, we stay up all night trying to fix it. We search the web, read magazines, chat on forums. We do everything to make sure we fix the problem and when we do, we feel satisfied. We feel accomplished. We feel Man.

That's us. (Okay I'm generalising. Not every guy is like that. Some just smashes it when they can't fix it)

So to hold an almost 3 weeks old baby, wailing in your arms and you have no idea what to do or what's happening, it drives you crazy. It's a terrible feeling being helpless.

Every father in the world wants to know how to make her stop, how to pacify her, how to sing to her that will make her cool down and sleep. Every father wants to find a solution that will make her baby comfortable and smile. Including me.

The problem is a solution may never be found. We can troubleshoot all we want whenever our son or daughter cries. Sometimes we get it right, sometimes we get it wrong. Sometimes we hit jackpot and sometimes, we simply run out of luck. But we just keep on trying. One thing's for sure, if my friends and mentors are of any indication, we get better being dads, overtime.

Perhaps we just need to realise that when it comes to our babies, we don't have all the answers and we can't fix "her" like we fix "it". It's a different skill this parenting thing. And I've just been thrown into the deep end of the learning curve. Drowing at times, paddling at times.

One thing's for sure, knowing all of that doesn't change my feeling of helplessness. It's still there.

But you know what? It sure gives me hope.

Mission Impossible IV

I am no Tom Cruise. My wife might think I am but I'm really not. The fact is, I'm tall and Tom is .. ahem... let's not go there. Otherwise he may jump on me instead of Oprah's couch.

Mission Impossible IV stars the leading man played by ... Me. And the leading lady played by ... Daphne and no, Q is not played by mother-in-law. Oops, I think I'm getting James Bond mixed up here. I'll just continue.

In this afable movie, the leading man and the leading lady receives one of those "this message will self-destruct in 10 seconds" message. A mission to save the world. Well, not quite the world but close enough.

The plan is simple. Get all the things we need in one bag and leave. The leading man and leading lady has talked about this before about the list of items to bring whenever they get this mission. A well laid plan.

Like all good movies, flash backs are always part of the mix. Except in this installment, we only see the history of the leading man. The movie flashes back to the time when the leading man is single and unattached (and friends, don't you go "when is he ever unattached?"). He receives a mission of a similar kind in one of those "this message will self-destruct in 10 seconds" message. It reads "Be in office by 0800hrs."

Delicate mission. Impossible almost for the leading man. His famous line in all installments "I don't believe in God before 10am". But a mission he receives, a mission he needs to complete. He sets his alarm for 0700hrs. He wakes up the next morning at 0730hrs. Leaves the house at 0740hrs and yes, the leading man had brushed his teeth, changed into his mission attire, ate breakfast and out of the house in 10mins. He arrives in the office at 0805hrs. 5mins behind.

Flash forward further, the leading man now married to the leading lady, receives another mission in again one of those "this message will self-destruct in 10 seconds" message. It reads "Be in church by 0800hrs."

The leading man sets his alarm for 0700hrs and he wakes up at 0715hrs not because of the alarm clock but because of the kung fu kick of the leading lady and leaves the house at 0745hrs, the leading man still brushed his teeth, changed into his mission attire, ate breakfast in 10mins but he forgot to calculate in the time the leading lady needs to find the right outfit for the mission. They arrive at the mission scene 0815hrs. 15mins behind.

Flash foward to present. The movie intensifies into it's climax where the leading couple receives their mission in again one of those "this message will self-destruct in 10 seconds" message and it reads "Be at the Gynae's clinic by o800hrs."

The leading man sets his alarm to 0700hrs and woke up at 0655 because the leading lady started breastfeeding. He brushes his teeth, changed into mission attire, ate breakfast and ready to go in 10mins but again, he failed to calculate the time needed for the leading lady to select mission outfit.

All is done and ready to go but this time round, the rules are different. They need to pack. They enter the armoury and found their gear. Diapers two, check! Changing mat one, check! Wet wipes, check! Diaper cloth one, check! Receiving blanket one, check! Change of clothes, check! And the list goes on.

The leading couple leaves the armoury armed to the teeth, ready for almost any situation. Reaching the door, the leading man remembered the most important item for this mission, the baby. He carries her into the car seat, whisked down the stairs into the batmobile, strapped (somewhat) the car seat in a safe mode and off the leading family went to their mission. The first for the family.

They arrive. 0830hrs. 30mins behind.

It's an impossible mission they say to leave the house when you have a baby. I'm starting to know why. Perhaps I should learn to prepare early as drilled previously by my bosses. I think I'll start earlier by packing the night before. Great idea they would say.

Hmmm.. where shall we start? I know, how about putting baby in the car first? Now that's perhaps only something Tom will do.

The Colour Yellow

I love the colour yellow. I think it's bright, cheery and punchy. Golden yellow exudes warmth and strength. I use yellow alot when I design logos or graphics. I work for a non-profit organisation called Young Leaders Foundation and our logo is yellow too. Strong and vibrant. Even Brazil, the world's best soccer nation wears yellow. I love the colour yellow EXCEPT when it's the colour of my daughter.

Yes, Maegan's turning yellow and no, she is not taking over B1 and B2 (they are "Banana in Pyjamas"just in case you are wondering) when they retired. She's just suffering from jaundice. Has been since she left the hospital 11 days ago.

Jaundice it seems is very common among new borns. Particularly with Asians. Almost every baby that I know have jaundice. The mild ones go away a few days after they go home. The more serious ones have to be admitted into the hospital to undergo UV light therapy.

Daphne and I didn't think it was a major deal since it's known that jaundice takes a longer while to recover if you are completely breastfeeding. But today, she seems a little too yellow for our liking. Even when my cousins came to visit, with all their kids in tow, they too commented that it's too yellow.

Ever wonder how panic and worry sets in without anyone doing anything to you apart from saying something that hits you like a brick? Well, that sort of happen to us. I called a good paeditrician friend of mine to get a professional opinion. A short visit to him at the hospital wouldn't hurt was the summary of our conversation.

So to the National University Hospital we went in seek of a word of assurance that everything is fine. It's funny how people seem to pay lots of money just to hear that they are fine. Us included. When Maegan was 2 day old, we paid $70 for a hearing screening test just so that they nurses can come back and tell us she is hearing properly. "But I already knew that" was what I screamed to myself.

Today was one of the "just-to-be-sure" test days except that my friend needed to draw blood from Maegan. He looked me in the eye and warned me that Maegan would really cry. And cry she did.

I actually think it hurts me and Daphne more than it hurts her but Maegan may think otherwise given that her little hand, which is no bigger than the size of a golf ball, has a huge plaster over it. It's painful to see your child going through pain. The images of her blood being drawn was hard to imagine and when I finally carried her out of the room, Daphne stood there, almost in tears.

We both know that there are going to be many, bigger heartaches that we will experience as parents with Maegan but the drawing of her blood sure started us on this journey in a painful way.

Results that came back shows a higher than acceptable level but given her age, it is not a case for concern unless the levels increase. She's okay to go home and with clear instructions that sun-tanning will be a logical thing to do. Works as well as the UV light therapy but at zero cost.

So it seems that Maegan will remain yellow for a few more weeks. I'm confident that all will be well. The jaundice like many babies before will come down over time. What will stay with me would be the fact that the pain a father feels when his child is hurt is somewhat uncontrollable.

There's a scene in a somewhat terrible move that I love. "Just Married" is about a couple who decided to get married after meeting each other for only a matter of days and started their marriage life with a disasterous honeymoon. In a nutshell, they came back seeking divorce. In this scene that I love (I hated the rest of the movie), the guy met his dad and lamented to him about what has happened. His dad said to him "marriage is not only about the happy pictures we take, it is also about the difficult times we have to go thru in between those happy photos."

I love that scene. I love that line and the way he said it. Being dad seems to me a similar analogy.

Maegan, in her 15 days of existence, has about 380 photos on my computer. Most of it happy faces of grandma, grandpa, uncles, aunties and friends holding her and posing with her. Many are beautiful picture of her smiling, sleeping and occasional crying. Even those are sweet on it's own.

But parenting isn't about just the happy moments. It's about the waking in the night, worrying about the constipation and relentless existence of jaundice in Maegan. It is about the moments that I cannot capture on camera and about the pain I felt when the needle went into her.

What a journey. And the best part of it all, it's been only two weeks. I know I've got a whole lot more coming. So bring it on!

Star Gazing

I love star gazing. Not great at identifying all the Big Dippers and Orion and so on but on some occasion, I can. The Southern Cross, the Three Sisters. All the beauty and splendour. You can spend hours lying down and gazing.

When I was in the bushes in the A.C.T. area in Australia with Outward Bound School, I learned to star gaze. I learned to rely on the stars for direction when we navigate in the night and learned to simply soak in the beauty of the blanket of stars that is above me. Not a single cloud in sight. Just me and the stars.

Today, I gaze at a different star. Not that I stop star gazing. Practically in our little country Singapore, star gazing is a non-started. When in Australia, we make wishes when we see a shooting star. In Singapore, we make a wish when we see a star. So I gaze a star of a different kind. One far more enjoyable.


My daughter.

I love looking at her. Not simply the fact that she is adorable and cute like her father.... oops.. I meant to say her mother. I love to just stare at her like I would the blanket of stars in the bushes. The beauty before me is stunning.

Daphne and I have so much laughs looking at her many expressions especially after she feeds. Daphne would prop her up to burp her slowly and there she would sit like a Russ Bear, being attended to by her mum and there I would lie on the bed just staring at her.

She would make funny faces. She would just smile to herself. She would yawn. She would stretch her face, stick her tongue out, frown and finally, she would let out a burp. I can lie there all day just staring at her.

It's funny. Just like my days in the bushes, the world stands still when I gaze at my daughter. Everything else at that point doesn't really matter. She was the object of attention. Most importantly, her every move made me smile. (Every move excepts when she farts)

I still love star gazing. But the joy of gazing at Maegan, nothing comes close.