Tag Archives: spa

Happy Mother’s Day!

It’s finally mother’s day this Sunday. A time to celebrate moms and their supreme awesomeness.

I feel like it’s been a long time coming. I haven’t even been a mom for a whole year and it seems like I’ve been waiting endlessly for my first real mother’s day. I’d like to say that the rewards of motherhood are sufficient to make up for everything, but if you ask me, I’m desperately in need of some pampering and something wrapped up in a bow.

I’m expecting to wake up at 11 am to a sumptuous breakfast in bed and a little blue box with something sparkly inside. Tru will be all fed, changed and ready for his morning nap. After getting smothered with hugs and kisses, I’ll be whisked off for a manicure and a massage, followed by a relaxing bath of goat’s milk.

No diapers, no laundry, no food-slinging and certainly no screaming or whining.

Even then, it’s hardly a fair exchange. A day off to relax at a spa and some diamonds is not fair trade for 364 days of hair-pulling and hemorrhoids. But I’ll take it because it says “you deserve it cos are the most amazing human being on the face of this earth”.

Having recently been admitted to the elite club reserved only for the brave souls who dared to venture into the world of motherhood, it feels different being on the other side, as it were. Like most experiences, you need to be in it to fully comprehend what it really means. I used to hear moms talk about all their mothery stuff and I can try to look sympathetic, but it doesn’t really sink in.

But now, I GET IT. They can talk about 6-hour screaming fits and I totally understand. When Tru was sick and couldn’t fall asleep, I was holding him for 6 hours straight till I was sure my arms weren’t there anymore. I hear about nappy rash and projectile vomiting and I’ve literally been there, done that, bought the T-shirt, took the photo.

It’s like how doctors have their Hippocratic Oath. Mothers also have a code of conduct that they swear to keep the moment the kid pops. In summary, it goes like this. “I shall henceforth cease to exist as a free-spirited individual and place my kids over and above my own needs for the next 18 years. In short, I will become Mother Theresa.”

Only on Mother’s Day, we get a moment of brief respite. To sit back and bask in the adoration and gratitude. So to all the mothers out there, MILK IT FOR ALL IT’S WORTH because it’s over all too soon. Savor every moment and have a brilliant day.


A Hair-Raising Affair

It’s that time of the month again. The dreaded haircut. For me, a haircut is like a head spa. I’ve got a people fussing over my hair, giving me a head massage while I sip my earl grey and catch up on Cosmo, plus I walk away with a nice do.

Not quite the same story for my son. He hates having itsy hair bits stuck to his face and neck and he’ll squirm like an eel out of water.

The last time he had a haircut, it didn’t go very well. Peruse specimen A.

Geek in the Blue

Despite telling the stylist (I’m being generous with the term here) not to take off too much from the fringe and the sides, she completely butchered his hair with her evil shaver. And I still had to pay $16 for it.

For almost a month, he had to go around LOOKING LIKE MR. SPOCK. Peruse specimen B.
Other Geek in the Blue

This time, I wasn’t taking any chances, and I decided to cut his hair myself. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m talented in so many ways. Anyway, how difficult can a haircut be? I’ve seen them do it a hundred times, just grab a bunch between my fingers and snip away.

Before you decide to work on your own hair, you might want to start with your dog, cos it’s kinda tougher than it looks. The squirming was uncontrollable, and half the time I was close to dislodging his eye. And once you start, you can’t just abandon ship halfway, or it’ll look like he got attacked by a rabid dog.

After about an hour, we stood back and surveyed the final product. It was really not bad at all, for a virgin attempt.

*Excuse me while I go show off my┬áchef d’oeuvre.

Milestones and Musings

Just like that, my excuse for a blog has hit 1,000 views. I suppose in the big league of blogs, it’s just a drop in the ocean. But still, a drop nonetheless.

I dare say, I’m thoroughly surprised.

I’m surprised that my life as a mother is compelling enough to generate such interest. When you’re the one living it, it seems terribly mundane and inconsequential. Then again, it’s not me you’re here for, is it? That’s fine, I’ve long since gotten used to having my thunder stolen, and by a mere infant, no less.

I’m surprised at how much I’ve enjoyed writing this past month. It’s been a long time since I put my thoughts on paper (or mac) and it’s awfully therapeutic. I almost forgot how much I love writing. Each entry captures a little piece of my heart and soul, and it makes me feel alive.

I’m surprised at where life has gotten me to. Just a couple of years ago, I would never have thought that I’d be a stay-home mom with two kids. I had my life all planned out; I’d have a fancypants job and perfect hair (as opposed to my psychotic-asylum-escapee-hair), jet-setting all over the world.

Most of all, I’m surprised at how awesome being a mother is. Listening to other moms talk about it and watching shows about moms just don’t do it justice. I thought I was making a big sacrifice, but I couldn’t have been more mistaken.

Just the other day, the husband asked a very tough question. “Would you rather have Tru or a million dollars?”

The martyr in me wants to say that I answered without hesitation. But the mom in me thought of all the bills and all the spa sessions and shopping sprees.

“Can I have both?” came my wisecrack reply.

But honestly, I’d take Tru a million times over. And that’s the truth.