tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70840362024-03-13T13:02:15.937+08:00P-SPOT"I am a citizen of the world"puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.comBlogger207125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-8145033529934297792011-11-12T03:47:00.003+08:002011-11-12T04:05:40.854+08:00Who Am I?Who am I?<br /><br />Am I the person who prepares the meals hoping it would turn out just right?<br />Am I the being who clears the table and wipes the dishes clean?<br />Am I the lady who washes, folds and irons the clothes?<br />Am I the mummy who brushes, bathes and dresses?<br />Am I the saviour who plants kisses and blows where it hurts?<br />Am I the woman who waits eagerly every day for him to return?<br />Am I the presence who loves with all her heart?<br />Am I the eager one who struggles to impress?<br /><br />Who am I?<br /><br />Am I just the above?puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-28148121324975730792011-11-02T03:31:00.009+08:002011-11-05T04:46:29.651+08:00My Nose Humbles Me<div align="justify">Inspiration comes from a steaming hot tub mixed with mint, pine and rosemary aromatherapy bubble bath and a 2008 French red. - Pu</div><br /><div align="justify">My nose humbles me. I have thought about that many times in recent years. And as much insecurities and pain it has caused me, I thank the Lord for depriving me of a bridge. I started feeling 'ugly' about the time I had my first boyfriend (funny how that is). It was a phase; hey, everyone has an 'ugly phase'! Mine lasted about 3 years; after that I felt average, for the most part. And a few times in between pretty even, there were times I settled for 'cute'. Oh, before any judgement boils out from the bellies of some of you who are reading this, please know that I do not write this out of self- pity, nor do I expect any sympathy. Even more so, please do not scorn me for being so shallow. I was young. This comes directly from within me out onto your screen, as honest as I can ever be. Today, I am 32, I still have my insecurities and beautiful (externally) people still intimidate me, average people make me feel comfortable in my own skin (unless they are super smart, then I am back to feeling intimidated) and ugly people are just well, ugly. Ugly, of course, until you get to know them and if they are nice then suddenly they are not so ugly anymore. But hey, that happens to beautiful (on the outside) people too, if they suck on the inside, then somehow they become ugly on the outside as well. And before you start throwing your judgement at me again, beauty (and ugliness the same) is in the eye of the beholder. As cliche as that sounds, it's totally true. What's beautiful to you could be hideous to someone else.</div><br /><div align="justify">Anyway, back to the nose. A dear friend once called it 'button nose'. Apparently that's supposed to be cute, maybe for a 2 year old! That's ok, to each his/her own. Twice in my life (believe it or not) has anyone ever (that I know of) mentioned or spoke of my nose in a negative and insulting way. The first from a boy called Mikhael in University who thought he was parading the latest trend with his thick black-rimmed glasses (not cool at all). I hardly knew him and could not call him a friend, but he had the audacity to come up to me one day during lunch and ask me, "Why is your nose like that?". In (shocked) reply, I calmly said, "I don't know. Genetics." What was he expecting? A tragic story of how a Sabahan 4WD Ninja rammed into my face one unfortunate afternoon? That was a real hurtful and awkward moment for me. Until then, the most I have felt from people (with regards to my not so gorgeous nose) is looks of avoidance. You know how when someone has a huge zit right at the tip of their nose and as hard as you try to avoid looking at it, somehow your eyes get drawn to it anyway? Yea, that. Haha! I SO know the feeling, totally unavoidable sometimes unless you have super strong will power. </div><br /><div align="justify">The second time was years later. And I do not wish to go into details. This was like a sharp dagger piercing through my (I am tempted to say heart but would like to avoid cliche again) whole being and just breaking all 28 years of me into pieces right there. I don't know what felt worse, the incident that day or someone (very high on my, 'I love you' list) telling me, "You are SOOO ugly!" (disgusted look included). It's ok though, all is forgiven, though not forgotten. Hey, you can't forget everything! You don't want to risk forgetting the lessons you have learned from your experiences as well, right? In any case, if you are wondering, my heart has healed. And in case you are judging me and accusing me of being a 'drama queen', it's ok. Go ahead, judge me you judger.</div><br /><div align="justify">How can a nose humble a person, you may wonder? Well, for one I can't possibly be accused of being 'hidung tinggi'. (On and off) since I was 15, I have wished for a 'normal' (hey, who's to say what's normal?) nose. I figured, I could accept my legs (though I wish they were longer), my hips (that were not boyishly narrow enough), my hair no matter how I had it didn't succeed in making me look any better. And hey, my grades that were never really good enough! Oh, the pressure of being 15 and a girl! As a teenager and a young adult, I judged myself based on my appearance, and to me that was pretty much based on my nose, right there at the centre of my face! But I exaggerate, really, it was not too bad, I had other things going for me. I had a good fit body. Genetics and swimming helped me there. </div><br /><div align="justify">Anyway, a decade and a half later, I still look at my nose with disdain. Hey, it's the first thing I see when I look in the mirror, ok! It bothers me, yes but much less so now that I have matured. What I feel when I look in the mirror now (not a 100% of the time, I still have my bad days) is BLESSED. Totally blessed that the only real and outstanding flaw I find in my (outer) self, is my nose. And maybe to some of the few people who truly love me not even a flaw. But something beautiful and unique to Pu Ei. </div><br /><div align="justify">The Lord, He has given me this perfectly functioning body. My neck that supports my head straight, a head that holds a brain that functions perfectly - controlling my complete limbs, 20 fingers and 20 toes. My spine that allows complete movement. Hair. I have hair. My speech that I may have endless conversations with my husband, and my sight that I may watch my children grow. My sense of smell that I may smell the yummy curry my mother-in-law has made and my sense of touch that I may embrace my parents. My healthy internal organs that carry out my internal processes efficiently. My body though having born two children is still in good shape. How could have this tiny 'flaw' or 'imperfection' have made me so miserable? How could I have allowed it? How could I be so shallow and insensitive? Well, I truly believe that God gave me my flaws (my nose especially) as a lesson. To keep me grounded. He has his ways of grounding His children. And He's had His way with me through the years. And I am grateful that it's actually been a not so tough journey of learing and self-discovery. What He has in store for me, I don't know....</div>puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-9899366973111110622011-09-15T03:23:00.006+08:002011-11-05T04:47:31.700+08:00Our First Adventure: The Train Ride<div align="justify">Today the girls and I went on our first train ride into Duisburg town. I packed them nice, warm and snug in our 2-in-1 stroller (means single stroller with two babies in it) and off we went in search of adventure. It's a whole 5 minute walk to the train station. And 2 flights of stairs up to the platform. My plan was to unload the girls, get them to hold hands and walk up the stairs slowly by my side while I carried the stroller. Totally do-able but lucky us, we had a nice young gentleman offer his manly services and lug the stroller up for me while the three of us girls walked up the stairs hand-in-hand. That was a good start to an uncertain outing. </div><br /><div align="justify">And so we reach the platform and well, it was nothing but a platform! I wondered where the ticket counter was, no one around to assist in times when the ticket machine didn't work. That's probably because the machine works all the time. So I decide to give my (very little) German a go and approach this older couple. "Entschuldigung, meine Deutsch ist nicht gut. Aber was bahnhof zu Konig-Heinrich Platz?" They seem to understand me and walk across to the information board. The man comes back and tells me the name of the station. He even helps me purchase the ticket from the machine, and buys me a 'kinder' (child) ticket. Not too sure if he did that on purpose or by accident, either way it saved me 0.90 euros. The lady tells me which platform to board the train and that it would arrive in 5 minutes, AND its only 1 stop away! What?? We were all prepared for an adventure! 1 WHOLE stop? Gee. Anyway, in exactly 5 minutes the train stops in front of us, we board and 3 minutes later we alight at our station. Very exciting journey indeed. Oh I shouldn't complain, 2 months from now and I will be grateful for this; the simplicity. </div><br /><div align="justify">Thank goodness there are elevators at this station. Just when I am relieved that I need not worry about carrying the stroller down and not being able to 'hold' my little girls, the little girls start arguing over who gets to press the elevator button. Gah! Elil pressed it the first time, Nila got to press the button inside the lift. Ok, problem solved. So, how do we get to Konig-Heinrich Platz from here and how long will it take by foot? Again I practise my German, this time on an elderly lady. She understood me; of course it did not take too much, I just mentioned the street and she pointed straight then 'links' (left). Aha, another 5 minute walk! And so we were there. A long street with shops on either side, backerei's galore, a WOOLWORTH's, McDonald's (we had our lunch there btw), a mall and a Kartstadt (A German departmental store), C&A, H&M, Esprit. Not a giant mall, but decent - you won't get lost in it. The girls keep asking for Mega Mall, "when are we going to reach mega mall mummy?" asks Elil. </div><br /><div align="justify">We walk into WOOLWORTH's, the first shop I see. We are comparing prices and quality in different stores, just so we know where to go and where not to. I tell the girls they get ONE thing each. Elil cannot make up her mind between Disney Princess handsoap or glittery, shiny fairy stickers. Nila made up her mind instantly with a Disney Princess mug. In the end, Elil chucked the handsoap for the stickers and Nila put her mug away and grabbed the princess handsoap from her big sis. Ahhh kids....you gotta love 'em! And so we walked around for a bit. Went into Hema, which had some pretty nice house stuff, a little more costly but also better in quality and look. </div><br /><div align="justify">Soon it was time to go back, the girls had a playdate with Jordan (playdates? so soon? yup!). And so we had our McDonald's and back to the 'bahnhof' (station). Getting back was not as easy as getting there. I managed to get my ticket pretty easy because they have a language selection on the machine, that was great, I felt so efficient. Until, of course I could not find the correct platform to wait at. There were more than a dozen and I had no idea which line to take. We walked up and down the station, and asked for assistance from 2 people who like me had no idea. Finally, I find an information counter where they guide me in the right direction. Yay! In no time we are home and 15 minutes later we hear a ring at the door and there is Jordan with his face pressed against the glass. What a wonderful day we had! I look forward to the next adventure, maybe into Dusseldorf with daddy doo-doo.</div>puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-27131675716516087812011-09-13T21:47:00.000+08:002011-11-02T18:18:33.502+08:00Life Goes On<div align="justify">
This morning I brought Elil and Nila to the park nearby. It is the Duisburg-Wedau Sports Park and School. It is a ten minute walk away from our home and it's facilities are open to the public. The Duisburg Stadeum is right next door. There are also lakes where apparently they hold annual regattas. And jogging/cycling and walking friendly trails too. Several different play areas for children. Today the girls played in a wooden sunken-ship playground. The play area is covered in sand; the girls are not used to this, getting sand in their shoes. I let them run around barefoot. Connected to the sunken-ship is a man-made mini lake, with a stream and small waterfall running through it. It's a whole lot of fun for the kids. The girls could not resist the water and so I stripped them to their undies (totally unplanned) and they splished-splashed about in the cold water without feeling any cold. Lucky the sun was in and out so they didn't freeeze. Not too sure what the German lady watching us was thinking though. Not too impressed with this Asian lady allowing her kids to 'freeze' in the cold. They were fine, really they were. </div>
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This morning hubs left for Sargans, Switzerland. He will be back in 4 days. I miss him dearly. So soon after our big move and he's gone again. This is his third trip in the 16 days we have been here. I look forward to his return. It's time for us, the girls and I to have our 'daddy' back. He's been away far too long and too often in the past. These girls need more and more consistent hubby and daddy time. Never has his hugs and kisses felt so good and oh so fine. I was missing the electricity and power in that touch. Well, it's back now and hopefully back for good! *Sigh*</div>
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The 42"LG LCD (courtesy of hubs company) standing on the floor in our echoing (still pretty empty pre-furniture arriving) living room is on 12 hours a day. This is our only source of entertainment other than going out for a walk (sometimes the weather not permitting), or the sand box outside (again depending on weather conditions). All the girl's toys and most of their books are in the container awaiting clearance somewhere in Duisburg Port (i think). Thank God for the media player hubs got just before we moved. He's loaded it with a decent (some indecent ones too, not for the kiddos of course) array of movies and cartoons sufficient for movie marathon after movie marathon and back again. Once our DVDs and Blue Rays get here, no more Tom and Jerry, Mr. Bean (animated or not) and Spongebob Square Pants for me. I have seen enough to last me 10 life-times! </div>
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With all that being said, I am grateful and feel so utterly blessed and I cannot thank the Lord enough. Thank You for me, for who I am (the good and the bad), thank You for the man I married (eventhough he truly drives me nuts at times I love him deeply), for the perfect little monkeys You have entrusted in my care, Thank You for the life we have had and enjoyed, for the future You have in store for us. I surrender us to Your care. Amen. </div>
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Proverbs 3:5-6: Trust in the Lord with all thine heart and lean not on thine own understanding.</div>
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In all thy ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct thy paths.</div>
puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-61354755378307693082011-09-09T19:55:00.003+08:002011-09-09T21:10:44.609+08:00New Beginnings<div align="justify">We have been relocated. Hubs, myself and the girls. Halfway around the world; Dusseldorf Germany to be exact. 10 nights now, away from our home in Damai Mewah. The holiday feeling has started to fade and so begins reality. I miss our home, the neighbourhood, the people who live in it still. I miss my family the most. This is going to sound so cliche but you don't realize how much you take the people you love for granted until you are miles and miles apart. The saddest part about the distance is that grandma/pati, grandpa/tata, aunties, uncles and cousins don't get to be apart of our lives, we won't get to grow up together. However, it would make reunions and family gatherings so much more rare and treasured. </div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify">I look forward to our new life in this part of the world, where every 3 months the season changes. Soon the colours of the leaves will change. Red, orange, pink, yellow, brown I tell Elil. She cannot fathom it. Everything we see on the side walk is amazing to her as we take our brisk walks in the cool and windy evenings. Hazelnuts that have fallen from the trees, all kinds of cones from the many pine trees, maple leaves, even pebbles are unique. They look forward to the snow, a white Christmas this year I hope. For now, the days are still long and so I put my sweet angels to bed when the sun is still out and they tell me, "...but its still early mummy!" They fall asleep so easily anyway, no more afternoon naps after a full day of school. Works well for me, bedtime is no longer a struggle. They love their bedtime stories still. Rhymes for Nila, they are short (she can only focus so long) and sweet. Mermaid and princess stories for Elil. Sometimes we have a little of reptiles and dinosaurs too just to spice things up.</div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify">When our first year is up, I intend to be apart of the working world again. Nila should be in school and I should have better grasp of the Deutsch language. Something simple, part-time maybe to pass my time and fill my pockets if only just a little. Good thing 1 Euro can go a long way, much longer than a Ringgit. I look forward to it. An adventure has just begun, a young family of four is on the wagon. We are in it together, through the good and bad, happy and sad. Wish us well, were on our way....</div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"></div>puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-64866738497508001632010-06-16T09:34:00.004+08:002010-06-16T10:14:49.852+08:00The day she left...pfft!<div align="justify">So 3 entries ago I blogged about how relieved I was that Novie had finally arrived. I was nervous having a stranger in my home, hoping and praying she had the heart and patience to assist with my two kiddos. Housework was not the concern. I'd have been grateful if she could use a washing machine and vacumn cleaner without too much assistance. It took a while for her to settle in comfortably with the family but eventually she did and I liked her, I truly did. She was great with Nila and Elil was fond of her. She was strong and helped out with the gardening. She was polite and didn't talk back or show a face (all except once which is forgivable I guess).<br /><br />All was well until one fine day when my phone bill came in and I did the out of the ordinary; I looked at it. To my horror, the bill came up to 5 times its normal amout and as I looked at the breakdown I was disappointed to find several calls a day throughout the day to one number. A number that was unfamiliar to hubs and myself. Oh Novie Novie, why? I know I must confront her with this but how? Two days later soon after I put the kids down for the night, I go downstairs for a glass of water. I don't have a foot down the step when I hear the phone hang up. My heart is racing and I am so upset. I decide that I will have a chat with her the very next morning. Come morning I write the number down on a piece of paper and show it to her. "Do you know this number?" I say. She immediately admits to making the calls. To her "adik kandung" who works in Perak apparently. Of course I don't believe her. I give her a stern warning and she knows never to make phone calls to whoever behind my back ever again. She knows now that any calls she may want to make to her family whom she 'misses' must go through me. So that settles that or so I thought.</div><div align="justify"></div><p align="justify"><br />Days later after she had completed her chores she came up to me watching tv and asks me to sms her 'adik kandung'. She gives me 2 numbers, one I have never seen before. Apparently this brother of hers has two lines, ok whatever. "Take perlu sms", I say. I will call him immediately. Of course I want my chance to speak to 'brother' myself. A dude with a thick Indonesian accent picks up. Long story short, none of the information she gives me regarding her 'brother' matches. He has a different name, does not work in a Perak palm oil estate and has never met a Novie in his life! WTF! If there's one thing I truly despise, it's being lied to. It pisses me off to no end. I tell her what I know and wait for her explanation. She has none, no lie readily available in her brain. After several minutes however she manages another bogus story to which I tell her I know is lies. No more I said. No more calls. Period. I ask her if she likes being lied to. She replied no. And I tell her to go back to her room.<br /><br />It takes me a few days but I manage to calm down. About a month and I forget the ordeal although another bill comes in with the same pattern except the number has changed. Looking at the dates, all the calls were made prior to our little chat so I say nothing of it. Things are back to normal between us or so I think. We celebrate Nila's birthday in April. However, one morning about a week after the party I am woken by a smiling Nila trying to climb on her mummy. I am exhausted from a heavily disrupted night and on mornings like these, I hand Nila over to Novie so I can get some shut eye before beginnning the day. This morning, I call to Novie and no reply. I go downstairs, I call her as I do so. No reply. No Novie. Panic sets in. I rush to check all the doors, everything still secure. I check her room. Gone are her things together with the sports bag she had when she first came. I run upstairs to look for her passport, my heart about to leap out of my chest. Its gone! Just like Novie, gone. I don't know how to feel. I try call hubs who is in Delhi, no answer. I call my mum. I know there's not much she can do being miles away but somehow that is always my first instinct. When in trouble, run to mummy. She calms me down and tells me I should inform my in-laws and also contact the agent who would know what to do. I do this and by late morning have my locks changed and lodged a police report. The agent needs to cancel her work permit with immigration. And that's really all I can do. No replacement maid or refund cozshe passed her 3 month guarantee period (such BS if you ask me considering we just paid close to 9k for her). Only later do I find out that there is an insurance that you can get to protect yourself. Later, too late. </p><p align="justify"></p>And so that is my story after months of absence. Shes gone. And I am alone with the kids. I am struggling I must admit. I don't have a life. Am I able? I am. I know I can do it. Maidless. But I don't really want to do it. I am grumpy and over-exhausted. I am bitter at times and stressed and frustrated most of the time. I don't like being this way. And so I will update you once we get our next domestic help.puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-20319750158233022302010-02-09T16:51:00.004+08:002010-02-09T17:47:10.871+08:00I can't upload pictures...<div align="justify">I am using a prehistoric (no bluetooth) laptop with a USB port that is not functioning. And so I cannot upload any pictures which makes blogging just a little less exciting. To top that off my 'E' key has just broken off. It flies off everytime I type 'e', which is pretty darn often. And so I have put the little plastic piece aside and am pressing the little rubber knob (which has just bouncd off btw). I'll get used to it. I have so many pictures I am super excited to post, so much has been happening, so much going on. At home and with the babies. And oh wonderful (not), now my exclamation mark is giving me problems!!!!!!!!!! Oh well. Anyhow, this is one of those super rare moments where I am able to collect my thoughts (somewhat) and (quickly) blog a little about my simple, blessed and fulfilled life....<br /></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br />Two is a small number but two children are truly a handful, especially if they're my kids....the demanding duo! My days and nights are filled with "Mummy, no I don't want to bath!" or "Can we go playground? Can? Can? Too hot? Too late?" or "No! I don't want breakfast!" or just plain "wahhhhhhhh...." Sometimes I feel like pulling my hair out or knocking my head against the wall. Sometimes I feel my knees and ankles buckling, close to collapsing as I walk down the stairs with either baby in my arms. But most of the times I look at these two little faces staring back at me and my heart just melts. And the very rare moment where I squeeze in a 10 minute power nap and regain my strength. But there are also the times when I am anxious for this phase to pass. The terrible 2's and the early unsettled months. I remember promising to myself not so long ago that I would never call this zone Elil is in the 'Terrible 2's'. How could I ever refer to my angel baby as terrible?? But now that I am smack in the middle of it, that's exactly how she can be at times, TERRIBLE. However, I am consoled by the fact that it is a phase and it shall pass and she is absolutely normal. Anyway, a lot of the time she is angel, especially in her sleep. Console. Console.<br /></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br />Every (every) night for 5 months solid, Nila has woken me up an average of 6-7 times. Either for feeds or just to be pacified. In the past weeks she has settled down and wakes an average of 3 times a night which may be horror for some mummies but is nothing short of a miracle for me. I do believe she is starting to settle and develop a more 'normal' sleeping habit. However, she now sleeps with us in the bed throughout the night so I am sure this has contributed to her adjustment. Now there are 4 in the bed, mummy, daddy and two angels. I say, time for a bigger bed, no?</div><p align="justify"><br />The day after we got back from our wonderful trip to KK, work started in our kitchen. Elil waited three whole weeks for the 'uncles' to make our kitchen beautiful. Not my dream kitchen I must say but still a pretty great looking kitchen worthy of praise! Finally, I have a fully functional kitchen! Unfortunately, because my lappy not fully functional (like my new kitchen ;)), you won't be seeing pictures of it anytime soon. I have invited Ots and her clan over tomorrow for some cupcake making and decorating fun. Yum. </p><br /><br />TTFNpuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-88026082807124618122010-01-02T20:11:00.003+08:002010-01-02T21:10:17.346+08:00I LOVE KK<div align="justify">I am AT HOME in KK. I moved to KL in 1997 to pursue my degree. I have lived here ever since, minus about a year and a half after graduating (before I decided that I wanted to marry my then boyfriend) when I worked for a local consultant. KL is no where close to developing that sense of HOME in me. It probably never will. I don't hate it, I just don't love it. Sorry KLians! I am so AT HOME at home. It's a feeling I have always had. A feeling most people have about their hometowns I guess. And with things and feelings that are always with you, they tend to become immune to you, as in you forget about them. Until of course something happens to remind you of them. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /><br />Like just the other day. I met up with Sel, Mel and Yo for coffee. It took absolutely no planning and hardly any thought. I just felt like a coffee and some time with friends. So I send a mass (if I can call it that) sms, receive 3 positive replies and voila, under half an hour later, 4 old friends are together in and Olde Kopitiam. Because Nila can't do without her mama, I had to wear her on me and Sel was designated driver. A message came in my E71 and Ms. Driver said she'd leave in 5 minutes. 10 minutes later, Sel was outside my house, ringing on my doorbell. She (had the time and energy) to come down and have a short chat with my parents, say hello to Elil before we set off. It just amazed me how simple it was to meet up, to hang out, to do anything really. A coffee date like that in KL would require so much planning. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /><br />First, I'd have to find someone to hang out with! Of course this has nothing to do with the city itself but more of my lack of skill in making new and lasting friendships. Hahaha, so let's assume I find someone to hang out with, first we'd have to figure out 'when?' Said friend, "Let me check my calender...umm I'm free two weeks from Friday". Ok, so I got to wait two weeks! I might not even want coffee in two weeks! </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /><br />Next, we'd have to figure a suitable 'time'. We'll need to avoid travelling during peak hours...that would be after 10am but before noon or before 5pm but after 8, IF were lucky. We'd also have to take parking space availability into consideration. Whatever! This is getting too complicated! Maybe i'll just have Bru Coffee alone at home? </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /><br />You see we don't even have to get to 'where' yet. But let's go there anyway. Seeing as it takes a minimum of 30 minutes (assuming there is no jam) and 3 tolls for me to get to anywhere that's 'anywhere' hangout-able, somewhere in-between for everyone; I think i'll just stay at home and flip through my house magazines and get some inspiration for my future kitchen. </div><p align="justify"><br />Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying its impossible. It's do-able but requires much effort, an amount of energy and quite a bit of stress. People do it all the time. With further distances, more tolls and unavoidable jams too. It's a way of life for some. A life considered good too. It just isn't for me. I have always been a small girl from a small town with a small town heart and I will probably always be. I've tasted both lives and I truly cherish my happy humble beginnings. With that being said, I am sure all who read this feel the exact same way about their 'humble beginnings' as well. </p>puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-17344450116339961302009-12-04T08:22:00.005+08:002009-12-04T15:47:31.760+08:00She's Here!<div align="justify">I have been desperately anticipating Novita's arrival but when hubs informed me we were to pick her up from the agent the next day, I was anxious. I had not prepared her daily schedule. How do I begin training her? A stranger coming to stay with us. Would she be pleasant? She seemed decent in her profile picture. Would the babies warm up to her? She has two of her own so she should know how to handle little children, I consoled myself. </div><p align="justify"><br />It's been two weeks since her first day and Kakak Novie has pretty much settled in our home. To my surprise and relief, the children did not take long to warm up to their new kakak. Elil is easily won over. Chase her around the house a little, hide from the monsters with her, read a book about animals and you are her new best friend. Nila however, not so easy to convince. She is fine for a while with Kakak as long as mummy is not within sight and earshot. But surprise surprise, today for the first time she fell asleep in Novie's arms. In fact, she's in the sling on Novie right this minute. It's a relief that I am finally able to have some time to myself. However, a part of me still wants to be the one to do EVERYTHING for Nila (and Elil still). It's me being insecure and possessive but we'll get into that another time.</p><p align="justify">I did not know what to expect from our new help cum nanny. I hoped I did not have to explain to her what Clorox Bleach is and how to boil water on the gas stove or how to use a vacuum cleaner. I've heard so many stories. Luckily, she knows how to handle most electrical appliances and is familiar with all the cleaning agents. She is neat and well mannered. Clean and gentle especially with the babies. My house is not as immaculately perfect as it once was. But this I have allowed deliberately. I tell myself, a home with 2 children is meant to be a little messy. So what if everything is not exactly where it should be all the time? Yes, I have loosened up. And for now it seems we have created a comfortable routine for ourselves. </p>puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-69778638573613780132009-11-06T15:49:00.003+08:002009-11-06T16:12:44.217+08:00During my absence...<div align="justify">While I have been away, I have made many notes to myself on things I MUST write about. As I lay down at night (during those 2 seconds before I fall asleep), some experiences come back to me. This one in particular was truly a light bulb moment that I cannot not share with you. I am sure everyone will be able to relate to it in some way (regardless of your religion/thought)....<br /></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br />A visiting priest to HFK talked about happiness, about joy. He spoke of how happiness is the most intimate desire of every person walking this planet; of how very few people are able to say they are truly full of JOY. Father (I forget his name) quoted the words of a Brother (I forget his name) somewhere in Italy I believe who identifies 3 truly simple ways to be happy, happy all the way to the core. And here they are:</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /><br />1. Have no attachments. Do not attach yourself to anything material. We all know THINGS can't ultimately bring us JOY. Although they are indeed fun to HAVE their <em>shine</em> will eventually <em>fade</em>. DO NOT ATTACH YOURSELF TO ANOTHER PERSON. Father says, "In freedom let go and in freedom they will return". Don't cling onto your husband/wife or your children. They don't belong to you.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /><br />2. In all things GIVE THANKS. Oh how this was a slap across the face. So many times I find myself asking God, "Why? Why couldn't You make it easier?Why can't it go my way for once?" And even though at the end of the day, many things don't go MY way. I try to accept that it went His way. And that I need to trust His way. Because at the end of the day His way is the best way for me. So in all things, give thanks. Be grateful for anything and everything. Be grateful for your shitty day, it could have been worse. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /><br />3. Stay close to God. Pray. Pray. Pray. Read the Bible. Something I really should but don't do. My prayers of late have been very simple indeed. I don't ask for much. I just ask for strength. And sometimes it's all you really need to have a good day, a good week. I ask to be able to love more. Even when darn it, some people don't seem worth it!</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><br /><br />And so there it is. Easy peasy. Try it. Practice it. I believe you will find more JOY in your life and spread that JOY to the people around you.puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-11751595967163032802009-11-04T17:05:00.005+08:002009-11-04T18:10:29.484+08:00I'm baaakk!<div align="justify">Oh my, I have been absent for far too long. Neglected my dear blogs. So much has happend since I stopped work. My home looks very different from my last entry. Still a slow work in progress but I do what I can. Elil has grown so much since December last year. She is a big sister now. She is my big baby still though. </div><br /><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">I was thinking of how to begin with an update of the goings-on in the last 8 months. I dont know where to begin. So I have decided that I am going to leave the past 8 months of my life blank. Updates on Elil and Nila I will post in their individual blogs. Oh you can check out Nila's blog at <a href="http://www.nilababy.blogspot.com/">Sweets For My Sweet</a> . I have yet to upload her adorable pictures so please be patient.<br /> <br /></div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">Nila is the sweetest baby in the world. All smiles all the time. Such a joy to behold! I have been breastfeeding her exclusively for the past 6 months. Direct from the breast too. The milk bottle is a stranger to her. She has been on semi solids for a few weeks now. I started her off with rice cereal mixed with ebm. She now enjoys mashed banana and homemade apple sauce with a pinch of cinnamon. I want to give her avocado as well.<br /><br />Another thing I do have to mention is that I have been maidless for the past 2 months! I realize that this is not your typical life and death situation. Afterall, many SAHM's are coping well with far more babies to love and hug, feed and nurse, scream at and spank occassionally.... Thing is, I have had Mon since day 1 and to suddenly have to manage a large home and 2 babies, one of whom is hyperactive and refuses to sleep and the other who needs attention round the clock (as in you need to sit and play with her all the time. CANNOT be left alone) is INSANE. I must admit though it was difficult in the beginning, were finally getting into a comfortable routine. However, my days are filled with the babies, so there is no time for house cleaning, other than squeezing in the laundry and dishes. I do not cook. We have got a part-time maid to do cleaning twice a week. I tried to manage the cleaning and cooking initially but figured it was too stressful and tiring, not just physically but mentally and emotionally as well. Screw the house work Pu! Concentrate on giving your kids the best of you! Ok so for now, all is pretty well. </div>puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-27563644061214480732009-02-04T11:14:00.006+08:002009-02-05T16:34:39.309+08:00Immediate & Near Future Plans<div align="justify">Ok so I have been thinking. I will officially be a stay at home mom in 2 days. I can imagine a hundred things to do, a hundred ways to pass the time. Other than being <strong>full-time with Elil</strong>, there is so much to do at home. We moved into our new home in November last year, that makes it 3 months. Progress has been slow. But slow is better than rushed. And so I have come up with a list of things to do (things I can do given my current state) at home:</div><p align="justify"><br />1. I'd really like to complete my pond/waterfall project. The pond is there, the hole has been dug. We have the pump. The plants have been selected and await replanting. Only thing missing is manpower. I don't have the strength to do it alone. Hubs doesn't seem too interested (when he does have the time) and well its been raining mad lately. So I have decided to put this on-hold till my mom is in town. If you don't know Aunty Phil, mom = manpower + feedback + pond-making experience. </p><div align="justify"></div><p align="justify"><br />2. Paint Elil's playroom. I have a post on this in my HOME blog, you can check it out <a href="http://purplueihome.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2008-08-29T15%3A32%3A00%2B08%3A00&max-results=7/">here</a>. This project may take a while. I'll need to first determine the colors I will need, then get hubs to go out and get the paint. We'll need a big amount of pastel green and blue and probably just small cans of the other colors for the animals, etc. Secondly, I can only work on this when Elil is asleep or away. We're supposed to move the angel and her little sister (yes another angel on the way) in here when they are a little older, but it seems with all the toys (and plans I have for the room) there may not been enough space. Hubs is going to pull a fit. </p><div align="justify"></div><p align="justify"><br />3. Chair refurbishing. We have these really old wooden single seater frames from my in-laws. They are over 30 years old. We're currently working on stripping the paint off to expose the original wood grains. I want to either shellack it over or use some sort of wood oil to bring out the original shine/grain of the wood. Then all I need to do is get the cushions re-upholstered (in white) and voila, brand new retro seats! I saw something similar in a magazine and feel in love with it. So I am anxiously waiting to see the end result. </p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify"><br />4. Shopping. I really need to use the extra time I will have to look for extra knick-knacks to decorate my home. It's quite bare at this moment. My walls are blank and we have only the basic furniture. My home is a work in progress. But I am in no rush. It's more rewarding and meaningful when you collect beautfiul pieces be it a huge sofa or a small ornament here and there instead of having an insta-house. It's nice too when hubs grabs souvenirs from different parts of the world. Finding the right place for each item is also very important. So like I said...work in progress.</p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify"><br />5. Create a work schedule for Mon (and myself too). Right now she doesn't have a fixed schedule from me because she is shuttled from my place to my in-laws daily. And well there is very little time left for her to clean up our home. So I give her freedom in cleaning the house as she sees fit. Of course there will be comments from me every now and then. However, I do let a lot of things slide. </p><p align="justify"><br />6. Hit the gym (or some form of exercise) after my confinement. This is the year where I intend to keep my health in check. My mother told me on New Year's that she started serious exercising (gym/yoga/jogging/hill-climbing) at the age of 30 and has continued to do so till today. I turn 30 this year and if ever I have a new year's resolution, I guess this would be it! To focus on my health (and to get hubs to do the same). </p><p align="justify"><br />7. Make friends. Going to work. Spending all my time outside of work with Elil. Trying to make-up for all that lost time. Has turned me into a hermit. No life outside being a mother and a wife. I know this seems impossible now that our 2nd baby is on the way but I am determined to have a balanced life. Where I take care of my personal needs as well. And that includes having friends, be it my beer chicas (can't be doing the beer thing anytime soon though) or other young mamas around the KL area. </p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify"><br />8. Spending more quality/alone time with the hubby. Again this seems impossible with no. 2 on the way. But we'll make it happen, at least for the next 3 months! I know he longs to just hang out like we used to before our boo boo came along. We'll do more hanging out, watching movies, going to mamak, and all that.</p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify"><br />9. Learning more recipes from my mother-in-law. Hubs is used to Indian food. He can't do without and it needs it daily practically. So will be popping by the in-laws to embrace the world of Indian (or maybe just Mrs. Bala's) cuisine. </p><p align="justify"><br />10. Try out Bento-ing. I have most of the tools but have yet to test them out. I will probably try something simple. But honestly I see myself doing this regularly only when Elil starts pre-school. I doubt she will know how to fully appreciate the yummy beauty of it until then. We'll see how it goes. </p>puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-41571447930701381702009-02-03T14:15:00.003+08:002009-02-03T14:34:55.657+08:00Thank You<div align="justify">You always find ways to touch me in mass every Sunday. And I feel refreshed by Your messages; Your <strong><em>soft prompting</em></strong>. As the weeks go by, trials find their way into my days, some in the form of little disputes with the hubby, others in life altering experiences or devastating news and it takes its toll on me. But I have learned in the the past year or so, to always <strong>try</strong> (sometimes that <em><strong>human nature</strong></em> in me gets in the way) to surrender to You. And to place You in every picture, every event no matter how small. Not once have You disappointed me. Not once have You failed me. And well this has been Your promise from the begining, no? And so last Sunday, you uplift my weary soul again through the words of this beautiful song....</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br />Thank you, Lord,<br />for the trials that come my way.<br />In that way I can grow each day<br />as I let you lead,<br />And thank you, Lord,<br />for the patience those trials bring.<br />In that process of growing,<br />I can learn to care.<br /><br /><em><strong>But it goes against the way<br />I am to put my human nature down<br />and let the Spirit take control of all I do.<br /></strong><br /></em><strong><em>'Cause when those trials come,<br />my human nature shouts the thing to do;<br />and God's soft prompting<br />can be easily ignored.<br /></em></strong><br /><br />I thank you, Lord,<br />with each trial I feel inside,<br />that you're there to help,<br />lead and guide me away from wrong.<br />'Cause you promised, Lord,<br />that with every testing,<br />that your way of escaping is easier to bear.<br /><br />But it goes against the way<br />I am to put my human nature down<br />and let the Spirit take control of all I do.<br /><br />'Cause when those trials come,<br />my human nature shouts the thing to do;<br />and God's soft prompting<br />can be easily ignored.<br /><br /><br />I thank you, Lord,<br />for the victory that growing brings.<br />In surrender of everything<br />life is so worth while.<br />And I thank you, Lord,<br />that when everything's put in place,<br />out in front I can see your face,<br />and it's there you belong.</div><p><br /><br />And so I thank You Lord for the trials that come my way. Thank You. Thank You for my crosses to bear. In each I will grow stronger in You. </p><p>Amen.</p>puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-65276098168224919342009-01-13T12:19:00.002+08:002009-01-13T12:21:05.919+08:00OMG I had to post this immediately!<div align="justify"><br />For you ladies who have experienced pretty bad morning sickness, check this out. I got it from Baby Center.<br /><br /><em>I seem to be salivating more than usual since I got pregnant. Is this normal?<br />Some women feel as though they're salivating more than usual during pregnancy, especially when they're nauseated. A few women have so much saliva they end up needing to spit to deal with it. Excessive salivation is called ptyalism or <strong>sialorrhea</strong> and is more common among women suffering from hyperemesis gravidarum, a severe form of morning sickness.</em> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">OMG it's actually called SIALORRHEA! How appropriate! </div>puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-19766086396441931452009-01-08T08:39:00.003+08:002009-01-08T09:25:15.597+08:00It was good when it was good. But good has long passed.<div align="justify">It's been seriously playing in my mind for the longest time now. About 6 months I might say. I have thought and thought about it. Wondered if it should be done. And 2 months ago I decided, yes it must be done. There is no hope for you anymore. The wounds will not heal in this place. I thought we could patch things up, maybe it would improve with the change. But no, we need to cut off ties. "Not now but in time", I said to myself. When? Nah, I give you till May 2009! "Hang in there Pu, you can do it!", I remind myself again. Since then, I've just been spiralling down. It's been hard keeping myself together on a daily basis. A constant struggle to stop myself from going mad. I need to let you go, cut you off for good. You are toxic to me and are not worth my time or effort. But still I have been hanging on, trying so hard to keep it together. I have my many reasons for hanging on, or trying to. Alas, the last thread has torn. And I am falling. You drain me. You bring me down. You make me feel like the dimness of your pea brain, like the stench of your filthy being, like the ego that has made you ugly, like the phony person you are, like the evil pride that consumes you, like the age catching up with you, like the racism that runs through your veins. I want to say I hate you. But I dont. Really. You just suck so bad you make me sick. </div><p align="justify"><br />And so terday, (with blessings) I bid you farewell. Farewell for good. You smiled and gave me an exaggerated "Thank you!". Almost as if it was in your plan to drive me away. I am sure it was. Congratulations to you then, you succeed! You can have your victory dance with your clan in your next gathering. And with that I know for sure I made the right choice. I know it would have been unhealthy to hang on to something that was struggling to shake me off. Oh, how thick my face is sometimes. Great relief is what I feel now. About 20 kg's lighter too. But still I have my anxieties. Remember, I hung on so long for a reason! What lies for us in the future, only God knows. And so I will let Him guide me. </p><p align="justify">Goodbye P.H. and S.S.I. Goodbye. </p><p align="justify"></p>puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-64108363836376240562009-01-06T13:09:00.016+08:002009-01-06T13:54:17.408+08:00It's been a while<div align="justify">Too much has happend. Hard to find the time to recap. So here are some random shots from Christmas in KK. Wonderful, magical... as usual.
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<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuBDn6aFeqw95Yb7u21g25nDQ62TnFr56kaB2HkZ9upVJo4fMTYCPIJuFERjXMBWImOIc4k8lLlL38pyCUe63UlgoA3xJllRkUE6ybR3QVYAq0vRzklnmkeVwy7TWzVgahoOctSg/s1600-h/CIMG2893.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288052539546725042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuBDn6aFeqw95Yb7u21g25nDQ62TnFr56kaB2HkZ9upVJo4fMTYCPIJuFERjXMBWImOIc4k8lLlL38pyCUe63UlgoA3xJllRkUE6ybR3QVYAq0vRzklnmkeVwy7TWzVgahoOctSg/s400/CIMG2893.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a>Cuzzins nennen time togeder-geder
<br /></p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIYSIjWILdrT6Q_OAZkKOvbLZpGNKsTTw9Cfa_nIXJbJBlCMAdxP_iMUG9r8Vjw3nxpMZ1tbXNb5yQ0Scs1SatSQCnY0G-tAkRGjQwPmvYZp3-zTAbPViAV47DBHc57Ba5zm5aSQ/s1600-h/CIMG2867.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288052168337120418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIYSIjWILdrT6Q_OAZkKOvbLZpGNKsTTw9Cfa_nIXJbJBlCMAdxP_iMUG9r8Vjw3nxpMZ1tbXNb5yQ0Scs1SatSQCnY0G-tAkRGjQwPmvYZp3-zTAbPViAV47DBHc57Ba5zm5aSQ/s400/CIMG2867.JPG" border="0" /></a>
<br />Elil opened her Christmas gifts early Christmas morning coz she was fast asleep by the time we got back from mass.</div><div align="center">
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX2S6najvqJJe5fvjKczcGaiHpzGXzwsiCpElxKzHw5g9ixR1fimmyeZQErwSZriPh4ZCilg3DCgubhtiVer1_PwgbwqfGEeuGBR3diDZZ38MaK1iWOyq5OaN6Uaa_LC85N4gVlA/s1600-h/CIMG2862.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288051891019675586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX2S6najvqJJe5fvjKczcGaiHpzGXzwsiCpElxKzHw5g9ixR1fimmyeZQErwSZriPh4ZCilg3DCgubhtiVer1_PwgbwqfGEeuGBR3diDZZ38MaK1iWOyq5OaN6Uaa_LC85N4gVlA/s400/CIMG2862.JPG" border="0" /></a> She especially loves her dolly she lovingly named Elil. A gift from Aunty Ots. And her stroller from Aunty Pu Nie.
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWqBU5n3X5C9JtdRREym9bmetLsnYbsmYJSeDODOA9WW9qYBZpdSC91DbaBN-rEgln7-uqfzTaCWTwzQaHxizYyesS4kEr8yz_4tsh8uvzvkma6PxXaRlBWoSiMhEPlFx9vZXRfw/s1600-h/CIMG2851.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288051659267750834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWqBU5n3X5C9JtdRREym9bmetLsnYbsmYJSeDODOA9WW9qYBZpdSC91DbaBN-rEgln7-uqfzTaCWTwzQaHxizYyesS4kEr8yz_4tsh8uvzvkma6PxXaRlBWoSiMhEPlFx9vZXRfw/s400/CIMG2851.JPG" border="0" /></a> After a bit, she chucked baby Elil out of her stroller then went strolling baby-less.</div><div>
<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifCu6TtPwH92Ws5DmfxoTf_z5P5h3l9LQ6V_bVMuCUOplOMjxN4gYRnEy8xMIF9qOiDIW46oH-Lz-zlw2X20vJ3UfbMZwWJkRoBFhNoP2YiiCJruxfTn7AuLRu3qmR_bgsU5m6FQ/s1600-h/CIMG2842.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288051104852040130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifCu6TtPwH92Ws5DmfxoTf_z5P5h3l9LQ6V_bVMuCUOplOMjxN4gYRnEy8xMIF9qOiDIW46oH-Lz-zlw2X20vJ3UfbMZwWJkRoBFhNoP2YiiCJruxfTn7AuLRu3qmR_bgsU5m6FQ/s400/CIMG2842.JPG" border="0" /></a> "I don't want to come out mummy!"
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjusNF06OWx8WNJp8CYfWmei_5k6J3jsqo6plU5M9Na2qOpiEhOE6EBz83gp72xXJCjN9viEYibfPdxrcJVb8YUMGi-tDcGS-vPoFq19kmjwKX67Mztx87oAjZ0dxJll7qfOZdjUA/s1600-h/CIMG2840.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288050915938967314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjusNF06OWx8WNJp8CYfWmei_5k6J3jsqo6plU5M9Na2qOpiEhOE6EBz83gp72xXJCjN9viEYibfPdxrcJVb8YUMGi-tDcGS-vPoFq19kmjwKX67Mztx87oAjZ0dxJll7qfOZdjUA/s400/CIMG2840.JPG" border="0" /></a> "We want to bring Grandma's pond back to KL with us!!" said Shan, Elil & Ron.
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjude70Aj_SVlHmSYc7yWb1SqdIZi6SYp0nmxr6Z6qNSEVepAsF5RV8k19UzuJpWjrF9W_YD9VbtVgV0l2HN9GA8Qdh3JvgIflaCq5-3Njtkoy0hY5i-WMp9S6923qQLVohUgS-hA/s1600-h/CIMG2829.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288050676231729554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjude70Aj_SVlHmSYc7yWb1SqdIZi6SYp0nmxr6Z6qNSEVepAsF5RV8k19UzuJpWjrF9W_YD9VbtVgV0l2HN9GA8Qdh3JvgIflaCq5-3Njtkoy0hY5i-WMp9S6923qQLVohUgS-hA/s400/CIMG2829.JPG" border="0" /></a> Elil playing with the gayung the whole time. I can't understand the fascination.
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2wp2XIOUom5KflWueEuGd6jxAvEV-D5keNsv4Hh88iecCuCXYJxd-_j74KM6E99QxJ7UIuT20qmt5fV-UQqOo0CYoES8sHgYGBBlKV5saQsh5T9nDhIC24OyYND9o826y0PeXKg/s1600-h/CIMG2823.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288050155450743682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2wp2XIOUom5KflWueEuGd6jxAvEV-D5keNsv4Hh88iecCuCXYJxd-_j74KM6E99QxJ7UIuT20qmt5fV-UQqOo0CYoES8sHgYGBBlKV5saQsh5T9nDhIC24OyYND9o826y0PeXKg/s400/CIMG2823.JPG" border="0" /></a> Ron-Ron was in a fit when picked out from the water.</div><div>
<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq9bdaIC2YYhbfLBbpzZwaLl8nl7QdAp0Zlqqux8vgsULdeg3xGOjV69v1ieP_Sop89dgXcINH41uSnfayyF4hupEa5Y6bKm0LFPwzs7x4mblCld5wfCyXxsJOU6Nt6fBZIwV5qw/s1600-h/CIMG2821.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288049896926524210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq9bdaIC2YYhbfLBbpzZwaLl8nl7QdAp0Zlqqux8vgsULdeg3xGOjV69v1ieP_Sop89dgXcINH41uSnfayyF4hupEa5Y6bKm0LFPwzs7x4mblCld5wfCyXxsJOU6Nt6fBZIwV5qw/s400/CIMG2821.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div>Shan here standing on water. Cool shot babe!</div><div>
<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqV7B8WjK70VWoBsV_1skWVVjOSXWtz7ZrRJDcyVAtg4wU3l2zbl6JGopeGeA5rbXXf8YFmNYIj6O8uNPKpB6xJvrF_fvNtcdNxMbv5CeMWVf-ONEKZCtwB5HXtU3ZbxsvJuO3w/s1600-h/CIMG2809.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288049658697356338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqV7B8WjK70VWoBsV_1skWVVjOSXWtz7ZrRJDcyVAtg4wU3l2zbl6JGopeGeA5rbXXf8YFmNYIj6O8uNPKpB6xJvrF_fvNtcdNxMbv5CeMWVf-ONEKZCtwB5HXtU3ZbxsvJuO3w/s400/CIMG2809.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div>"Oh gayung-gayung how do I love thee...."</div><div>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZwyqddpsIa_rCgs850wuSnAG5g4ehE57TWUEA_l-_hnFK8QnzOdqiHy2a-kDeY5nSnvWXKZp8aUEOY7MV3r4A1sTzS4tc0pegi-WYPnm94ksbia5D8CbdrGOWCY13HBkWed7hTw/s1600-h/CIMG2802.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288049390095681186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZwyqddpsIa_rCgs850wuSnAG5g4ehE57TWUEA_l-_hnFK8QnzOdqiHy2a-kDeY5nSnvWXKZp8aUEOY7MV3r4A1sTzS4tc0pegi-WYPnm94ksbia5D8CbdrGOWCY13HBkWed7hTw/s400/CIMG2802.JPG" border="0" /></a> Elil merajuk while getting ready for Christmas mass. After a super long and hectic day.
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<br />puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-33028536889406737912008-12-10T17:57:00.000+08:002008-12-10T17:59:19.699+08:00I've been MIAI really need to blog. I know. Just give me a while longer.puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-24052811270287564292008-11-05T08:00:00.003+08:002008-11-05T08:31:14.322+08:00Blue Mummy Moment<div align="justify">I'm pretty much done with the first trimester. The morning sickness is showing signs of improvement but I don't seem to be getting my energy back. I still feel like a heavy sack of potatoes. All I want to do is sleep sleep sleep. I really need my energy back so I can go back to being the mother I once was to Elil and the wife my husband needs. It is so hard to get out of bed in the mornings. Elil has been waking up more during the night not so much for nennen but dreams or nightmares. When I return from work I have some energy in me to spare Elil. On Monday we played bubbles outside then she helped water the plants, more of like main air. She was so impressed with mummy's instant water fountain. And yesterday, I put her in the sling and we walked about the neighborhood. Visited the kids behind the house from Rumah Keluarga Kami. Really sweet, well-behaved bunch. I don't know if the carrying Elil around in a sling was a good idea because I could not straighten my back for a while after. By 7 in the evening though I feel like collapsing and never getting up again.</div><p align="justify"><br />Nowadays Elil is back to her usual routine of sleeping by 9:30 - 10:00 pm most nights. I think this is a healthy time. Gives us mummy and daddy enough time with her before she's out for the night. Lately I have not been able to stay awake long enough to put her to bed. Most nights daddy is the one keeping an eye on her as she falls asleep. Mummy is right there fast asleep. Oh I feel so horrible about it. I don't play with her like I used to. I have to force myself to feed her dinner, giving her a bath takes so much energy, even washing her bum-bum is tiring. I feel like such a lousy mother. And I only have 6 months left with Elil before I have to start 'sharing'. I want to give her everything before then, all my time all my energy. But my body is not cooperating. As it is, most my time is spent away from her. I hate it. This isn't how it should be.</p><p align="justify"><br />I want to be able to watch her wake up in the mornings. Prepare and feed her meals. Bath her and brush her teeth. Play with her, teach her. I want to be the one to teach her new words and hear her speak them for the first time. I want her to cling to me and know that I am always there with her. I want to make Bento meals for her and watch her amazement as she sees my creations. I want to clean her cd's and chuck 'em in the machine. I want to sing to her and listen to her sing with me before she dozes off for her afternoon nap. I want to be more of a mother, I want to be involved in more things. I don't want to hear it from someone else her achievements that day. I want to be the one telling the story to daddy. </p><br />And now with #2 on the way, it just takes away what little time I have with Elil to begin with. I feel like I'm neglecting her. I feel like I'm not there enough. And it sucks. It really sucks. I hate it. I rally hate it. *Sigh*puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-3443202198303377372008-10-30T14:35:00.014+08:002008-10-31T09:51:14.842+08:00My Baby #2 Wishlist<div align="justify">I got tagged by <a href="http://www.blogger.com/">Farrah</a> and so this is my list of goodies....<br /><br /><br /><br />1. Medela Freestyle Breastpump<br /><br /><br /><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMWhap24XV6bnC_It2sSATR90Kh0KdW0_AEhWsZi0BsRLGAlpIE7MopiMS6ZjGaxHiGOExfQUSykgc_cUTKkXBekNxV6zqJ77EhSR6rRou-pxw0BxDXAZf0GSjEzatI4B_KiO4nA/s1600-h/freestyle01.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262861351740761378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMWhap24XV6bnC_It2sSATR90Kh0KdW0_AEhWsZi0BsRLGAlpIE7MopiMS6ZjGaxHiGOExfQUSykgc_cUTKkXBekNxV6zqJ77EhSR6rRou-pxw0BxDXAZf0GSjEzatI4B_KiO4nA/s400/freestyle01.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p align="justify"></a></p><p align="justify">With Elil I got the Medela Mini Electric Breastpump. But this was not suitable for longer pumping sessions and more for on-the-go sessions. Also, it is a single pump. After some research and input from Farrah, I decided I'm going with the Freestyle. I like the mobility, light-weightness, digital screen with memory capability. I have yt to figure out how I'm going to purchase one of these. Trying to find a nearer (than the US) source.</p><p align="justify"><br />2. New BPA free bottles<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR9A9M_uW3gjFvsEEO6T0xXHsiQMjZL90jFq0iysRhMpd0bWRIyYEauYwKaaHE5LIhjZtv58NRfOEvh0WBYiDZcQGb6VDbWOtAyY2HH-wT5szq6RH-W-Fz1Ex8dFbXiLHYxLMobA/s1600-h/pTRU1-4172052reg.jpg"></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262861100886126482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 220px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR9A9M_uW3gjFvsEEO6T0xXHsiQMjZL90jFq0iysRhMpd0bWRIyYEauYwKaaHE5LIhjZtv58NRfOEvh0WBYiDZcQGb6VDbWOtAyY2HH-wT5szq6RH-W-Fz1Ex8dFbXiLHYxLMobA/s400/pTRU1-4172052reg.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqhKY13KNCUB808zeM6FkhXSGATtLTHSF2pvwcfj6Av_jBxQZ4iSy4K7S54GCc2MAG8VuoW0Eo-nd3e197h4k8K6R9ZMS92NijiRK6Z8jJNJP_i2xMrefBi0SaPieFahAK2ExHfQ/s1600-h/botpink-mam.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262861016537645842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 105px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 194px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqhKY13KNCUB808zeM6FkhXSGATtLTHSF2pvwcfj6Av_jBxQZ4iSy4K7S54GCc2MAG8VuoW0Eo-nd3e197h4k8K6R9ZMS92NijiRK6Z8jJNJP_i2xMrefBi0SaPieFahAK2ExHfQ/s400/botpink-mam.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNpqTMEEjvMx8ovXkYMyvj5a81WCXzfYVkqf-ejmjCIDO_RF3ePKQY4NVxKwL7YZw4Wax2OtwklBGzJikN_fUsogGRj8bsA0v2j914nBpI44S7qTh5t_ICeYb9lZSamQkybWHj3A/s1600-h/41jfBSDqmdL__SL500_AA280_-dr.brown.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262860952208967442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 280px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 280px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNpqTMEEjvMx8ovXkYMyvj5a81WCXzfYVkqf-ejmjCIDO_RF3ePKQY4NVxKwL7YZw4Wax2OtwklBGzJikN_fUsogGRj8bsA0v2j914nBpI44S7qTh5t_ICeYb9lZSamQkybWHj3A/s400/41jfBSDqmdL__SL500_AA280_-dr.brown.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />I am switching bottles. After reading numerous articles on the dangers of BPA. I've decided to change all my bottles. Which brand? I don't know yet. But I do have a few in mind. Some possibilites include, Medela, Dr. Brown or MAM Ultivent. Will need to do more research and visit the retails before I make up my mind.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /><br />3. Cloth Diapers from Day 1<br /></div><br /><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8190yuy3Z3A32czW9aT2IcZ20WH6P7VQvXVNl3TQJEpycQla6lGHgrJHpabWOLBRE4IFqLnWUolfbwGFRmGqBJw5vL0QLp0o5w06JBHsG1SIu3IdlSZioTc-6rmQHlOKcFuRf1Q/s1600-h/thumb-kissaluvs.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262860865368962930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 164px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8190yuy3Z3A32czW9aT2IcZ20WH6P7VQvXVNl3TQJEpycQla6lGHgrJHpabWOLBRE4IFqLnWUolfbwGFRmGqBJw5vL0QLp0o5w06JBHsG1SIu3IdlSZioTc-6rmQHlOKcFuRf1Q/s400/thumb-kissaluvs.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The best cloth diapers for newbies. Or so I heard. Going to get me a stash of these before the arrival of #2. I just love the sweet sweet colors.</div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br />4. Primo Viaggio Infant Car Seat<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF_YMkGt29pus7sDwV7giSXDBIW3-EeGyzuxKteKFupg4gc_OjXUsro5EPr-FQr3eR97DSpa8vbGv5Nh5UbGSpqi4jbUWn03GNDcM26ZrVeXynLRzHCKZI5bDP-zKdVu-zFwqZJA/s1600-h/pTRU1-4299307reg-tango.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262860783138752658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 220px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF_YMkGt29pus7sDwV7giSXDBIW3-EeGyzuxKteKFupg4gc_OjXUsro5EPr-FQr3eR97DSpa8vbGv5Nh5UbGSpqi4jbUWn03GNDcM26ZrVeXynLRzHCKZI5bDP-zKdVu-zFwqZJA/s400/pTRU1-4299307reg-tango.jpg" border="0" /></a>The Peg Perego Pliko P3 was our first baby purchase when expecting Elil. We got it when I was 5 months pregnant! Too irrisistable bah these things! We didn't get the matching and attachable car infant seat at the time because we had Shan's to inherit. This time round, no more passing back and forth baby items coz Ots will be delivering about a month after me so the babies are going to be needing this at the same time. With Elil and Ronan it is a 6 month gap, so it was perfect. I don't think they sell the Pliko P3 car infant seat anymore but the Primo Viaggio will do because it attaches to the stroller and well it comes in the right color!<br /><br />5. Baby changing table<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKHQrgYDwR9Xd8AoTVW0QxosGntj0TF9F1BSiJDOWrC0dSZPXg9RRyo7y4Fql26dfoylNWx6Kysr3ccIbhFvtiA3M0llR6lllCvUlhdjfCjkXEM8xUQz23LREF58HwueeqdeCBGA/s1600-h/0081017601042_150X150.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262860413478755266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKHQrgYDwR9Xd8AoTVW0QxosGntj0TF9F1BSiJDOWrC0dSZPXg9RRyo7y4Fql26dfoylNWx6Kysr3ccIbhFvtiA3M0llR6lllCvUlhdjfCjkXEM8xUQz23LREF58HwueeqdeCBGA/s400/0081017601042_150X150.jpg" border="0" /></a> With Elil I didn't think it was really necessary to have a changing table. We had her chest of drawers that I used to change her on, with a changing mat of course. However, it just didn't feel right, it was too narrow and difficult to change a wriggly baby. It didn't have the safety walls around it and this made me feel insecure when changing her. And so, if I have the budget and I can find something simple and affordable, I will get one (with hidden storage) for baby #2. I quite like the one above. Elil's cot and bedding is all white and so this one will match fine. I don't know what it is with me and white these days....<br /><br /><br />6. A reclining chair<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjh1Vh9qWQJ3HAzyqhP6B2VqNWYjZrjoo5D1ApudUPi8q6gi-tx0uWZQ5cn49RPDj99z5xhGBv1cAoUgdNRElGSoHWPQ_M85AJn2aDFV7CgRJJQIaktr4gA9S7vZSBHu0uh8FyWg/s1600-h/402_recliner.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262860305581283794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 275px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 220px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjh1Vh9qWQJ3HAzyqhP6B2VqNWYjZrjoo5D1ApudUPi8q6gi-tx0uWZQ5cn49RPDj99z5xhGBv1cAoUgdNRElGSoHWPQ_M85AJn2aDFV7CgRJJQIaktr4gA9S7vZSBHu0uh8FyWg/s400/402_recliner.jpg" border="0" /></a> It would be great if I could get a Lazboy but those are like super expensive. I'd settle for anything comfortable. Fabric (not leather) preferably. Something cozy I can sink in while feeding the lil' one. I wanted one of these for when Elil came but could not quite afford it at the time. So heres hoping I can get one this time round.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />7. Another Ring Sling<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRS4STVpF4uxpq4-w2mJtzRTXhV10yRpJSyj-2KP23WzO2h0lAtmWWwWfgeFc6q7lodqtOled-kNTjb-dBm-ijV4Wiu4Q-n_3dfmdqh4oVlTpvzMCEJ1RJ7nT8A1Tx9cGDGbWvZQ/s1600-h/158newwebcopy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262860158223362642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 228px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 269px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRS4STVpF4uxpq4-w2mJtzRTXhV10yRpJSyj-2KP23WzO2h0lAtmWWwWfgeFc6q7lodqtOled-kNTjb-dBm-ijV4Wiu4Q-n_3dfmdqh4oVlTpvzMCEJ1RJ7nT8A1Tx9cGDGbWvZQ/s400/158newwebcopy.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><p></p><p align="justify">Rockin' Baby Ring Slings are super cool. I especially like this one called 'The Lullaby'. They are outrageously priced but are wonderfully designed. Check out their website <a href="http://www.blogger.com/%3Ca">here</a>. I initally wanted to get a pouch but after trying out <a href="http://www.shannonlissa.blogger.com/">Ots</a> pouch, it didn't quite fit right. I like the adjustability of a ring sling, daddy can use it too. </p><p align="justify"></p><p align="justify"></p>So yea, that's it. My wishlist for the second little miracle on the way!puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-51162280778942055402008-10-20T16:28:00.000+08:002008-10-20T16:29:28.348+08:00RESPECT"Respect is a funny thing - the more you demand of it, the less of it you get. Instead, the more you give, the more of it you receive in return."<br /><br />I got it from someone's blog and I totally agree with it.puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-41107656044884854752008-10-20T14:03:00.002+08:002008-10-20T14:07:11.449+08:00My Desk<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6_eU1ZNUpkfUs1URZYRMWewrr6ENd6usHU8U9Hx8mUrVayyfolFucZlk401Amwr2Vc4rKLgEs73RCFbuaGg84u9EcV4Il8fZtAcCsHfzvxJw3z7WmQm9uQWEVdCFLNegZ7hLK-Q/s1600-h/DSC00552.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259113207871762114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6_eU1ZNUpkfUs1URZYRMWewrr6ENd6usHU8U9Hx8mUrVayyfolFucZlk401Amwr2Vc4rKLgEs73RCFbuaGg84u9EcV4Il8fZtAcCsHfzvxJw3z7WmQm9uQWEVdCFLNegZ7hLK-Q/s400/DSC00552.JPG" border="0" /></a> This is my desk at the office. As you can see I can't live without my mints. If you are ever feeling nauseaous due to morning sickness I highly recommend Eclipse Winterfrost Mints. It helps to keep your meals down. Even Mo Far Kor kurang effective.<br /><br /></div>puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-15635186240187236522008-10-20T08:02:00.003+08:002008-10-20T10:01:16.772+08:00A pleasant suprise turned touching event<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwbClPWjpKp_x98Dr8CW34ldB35rE8zqVvKOc2gUxG_DB1K2lGjnXYn5MFoxrVKFrl_rFDn8fiGvJ4bNbafh1jQkVW4Uxxqp25ip23NEK0XhyphenhyphenvJlEnzgAI8cNa_htcdKlIKYFUg/s1600-h/DSC01281.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259050087803742114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwbClPWjpKp_x98Dr8CW34ldB35rE8zqVvKOc2gUxG_DB1K2lGjnXYn5MFoxrVKFrl_rFDn8fiGvJ4bNbafh1jQkVW4Uxxqp25ip23NEK0XhyphenhyphenvJlEnzgAI8cNa_htcdKlIKYFUg/s400/DSC01281.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify">We were lazing around in bed mid Sunday morning, hoping the little angel would doze off for her morning nap when hubs suddenly remembered we had a full moon lunch to attend. We were discussing it just the day before how could it have slipped our minds! That's what being pregnant does to you, it robs you of your memory (which wasn't too great to begin with). I don't know what hubs excuse is. Oh yea blogging world, I'm expecting #2. So to answer your question Denna, yes I am ready for a second baby!</div><br /><div align="justify"><br />So I deviate from the purpose of this entry. We arrive Damansara Palace restaurant (Mutiara Damansara) at about 12:30 pm. It is a massive restaurant, more like a banquet hall. The full moon lunch was in a smaller sectioned off room at the rear. We had to walk across the massive ballroom to get to the other side. There was another event going on at the same time. The screens read "Friendship Lunch With Gurmit Singh". Gurmit Singh? Hubs turned to me and said, "Hey, is it THE Gurmit Singh?" Before I get a chance to answer him he goes "Yes! It's him, Phua Chu Kang is right there!" as he points to the main table right in front of the stage. He is dressed in blue jeans and a white shirt with a smart coat sans afro wig, mole and yellow boots. A boy in his teens and his little brother were having their picture taken with him. "We should have our picture taken too!" I quickly tell hubs. He tells me we can take it later on the way out. "He may not be here anymore on our way out!" I answer. So we walk over casually and ask Mr. Gurmit if we could have a picture with him. He is the most pleasant man. So down to earth, no celebrity air about him. I have Elil in my arms sleeping. The boy in his teens took our picture for us. It is quick, we thank him and I shake his hands and tell him how glad I am to meet him. He gives me a sweet and genuine smile and we walk off feeling very lucky and satifsifed with ourselves. </div><br /><div align="justify"><br />I am famished and am ready for some chinese lunch. It is buffet style (fine with me). We greet the new parents, Janice and Terence and congratulate them on their one month old tiny treasure. Oh the sweetness of a new born baby! Baby Evan is adorable! Ever the quai-quai baby who slept throughout the noisy Karaoke session. We find ourselves a table, hubs pushes 3 chairs together and lines them with Elil's Moms In Mind sling. I lay her down (knowing deep inside she will wake up in an instant!). Whadya know, mummy knows her angel so well. Her wide eyes open the moment she is out of my arms. I give her a minute to adjust to her new surroundings. The loud music startles her. About a minute and she is seated upright, ready for ACTION. Little kids running about everywhere! I tell hubs to watch Elil while I grab lunch. Roast duck and Sau Nyuk. Ahhh heaven! Plus they had the tapai chicken but alas sudah habis all the soup. Mengidam oh. Hubs could not eat the noodles and the fried rice but got some plain rice instead. The food I must say was pretty darn good. </div><br /><div align="justify"><br />And so we have our lunch, myself I have 3 rounds. Hubs looks at me in shock. "What? I'm hungry and I'm roast duck and sau nyuk deprived. PLUS I'm eating for 2 now!" Hubs smiles and decides to tell Janice that I'm 10 weeks in (yes, 10 weeks!) and simultaneously explains the <em>gondo-otness. </em>I then go on to explain that I am experiencing morning sickness and constantly need to taste something in my mouth to avoid throwing up in front of everyone. And that I usually have my Eclipse Winterfrost mints with me but hubs left it in the car. I send hubs a cheeky smile. </div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><p align="justify">After more chit-chat we look around for Elil who went off somewhere with Janices' mother, swept away by the karaoke kids and balloons on stage. She is socializing with the older kids, some popo's and kungkung's too. Totally unbothered by her parents absence. Oh it would be so easy to kidnap my little angel! 4 glasses of orange juice later, hubs tells our hosts we got to make a move. And so we bid our farewells and walk out into a cheering crowd. Gurmit Singh is on stage singing 'A Better Man'. I like this song. We stop to take pleasure in his musical talents. He's quite good I must say. At the end of the song we walk past the stage. He looks down on us and says, "Leaving already ah?" We nod yes. He looks disappointed. As we walk to the end of the hall we hang on a little longer listening to his typical PCK humor. Engrossed in his comedy I am startled by a tap on the shoulder. I turn to look and I see Jon. Hey its Jon. Long time no see man. He looks exactly the same! We chat a little. But I am distracted. I am interested in what Mr. Gurmit has to say. He speaks of a sad but miraculous story, a life changing event. I am mesmerized.</p><br /><p align="justify">I tell hubs were not leaving until he's done with his testimony. And so he begins his story and I am truly moved and humbled. I will relate his story to you the best I can....</p><br /><p align="justify">Gurmit Singh is the eldest son in a family of 5. He has two younger sisters. He starts his story telling the crowd that his mother is probably the most strong woman in the world. Always working, always striving to care for her family. She would only fall sick on her days off. In 1985 on one day off, she never quite recovered from one sickness. Days later the family is devasted by the news that their dear mother is suffering from stomach cancer. She is at tthe worst stage, Stage 4. Doctors give her 6 months to live. They try everything possible to cure their mother. Chemotherapy, radiotherapy, traditional cures you name it. Nothing helped. The cancer spread throughout most parts of her body. </p><br /><p align="justify">Finally, one day Gurmit's two younger sisters aged 17 and 14 suggested their mother see a Pastor for prayer. They had both converted into Christianity earlier on. Gurmit's father has always been anti-Christianity and blamed his sisters' conversion on him as he was the older borther and it was his duty to take care of them. And so Gurmit had been angry at his sisters too, always scolding them for causing their father such pain. However, in desperation the family agreed to bring in a Pastor. The Pastor spoke to Gurmit's mother and told her. I will pray with you but before that you must give yourself to Jesus (God), you must surrender to Him. And also we can only expect Him to give to us what He pleases and what is in His will. And obediently she follows. </p><br /><p align="justify">A day or several days later ( I forget), Gurmit's two sisters invite him to a Christian ralleigh to be held at the National Stadeum. Normally he would totally object in anger but this time round, he agreed to attend. He went with zero expectations. The speaker was a man from Germany I did not quite get his name. During the session, as they were singing and praising, Gurmit heard a voice speak to him. It said, "Son, do you want to be My child?" or something like that. I don't remember his exact words. Instantly he knew, this feeling was different. It was indeed God talking to Him through Jesus Christ. He wept like a child. To have God Himself talk to you, what a humbling experience. Right there and then he knelt on the ground and gave himself to Jesus. That night he prayed for his mother. It was a very specific prayer. He emphasizes the specificness of it and I know how he feels. In situations like these, you don't really think of specifics, you are just grateful for anything little but somehow God listens to every detail no matter how tiny. He asks God to delay His taking of his mother. He asks God to take her only after she has seen her grandchildren. Gurmit was 19 years old, he was so far away from marriage yet alone children. And yet this was his prayer for his stage 4 cancer-stricken dying mother. </p><br /><p align="justify">Days later, after running some tests on the mother, the Doctor said," I don't know what you are doing outside of the hospital but you have to keep doing it because your cancer is gone! You are FREE FROM CANCER!" It was truly a miracle. A miracle I tell you! I stand in awe. God working His way in the life of Gurmit Singh, in the life of his mother and family. There were moments during his testimony where he was clearly struggling to hold back his tears. And I know the feeling. The experience of God's power of His love in us and among us. Its always so humbling and just amazing and a knock-you-off-your-feet experience! And I can't thank Him enough. And I can't thank Gurmit enough for his testimony. I am sure it moved many people during the lunch that day. And it will continue to touch the people who read this blog. I cried as a listened to his story. </p><br /><p align="justify">16 years later, Gurmit's mothers' body is attacked again by the same cancer. She succumbs this time. Gurmit is initially angered but then he is reminded of his prayer. By this time, he was married with a beautiful daughter and was expecting a son very soon. And so he thanked God for the whole 16 years of life his mother lived and let her go. It was a peaceful death, and all close family members had a chance to bid their last farewell to their beloved mother/wife. </p><br /><p align="justify">I cried again as I left the hall. Thank you Gurmit for your story. Thank you Jesus for working through Gurmit to spread Your love in this world. A world that desperately needs Your love, power and saving grace. Amen. </p><br /><p align="justify"></p>puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-54998876860609434752008-10-17T16:16:00.001+08:002008-10-17T16:18:16.314+08:00If God Exists<em>A lady went to a beautyshop to have her hair cut and her nails painted and trimmed. As the lady began to work, they began to have a good conversation.<br /><br />They talked about so many things and various subjects.<br /><br />When they eventually touched on the subject of God, the beautician said:<br /><br />"I don't believe that God exists."<br /><br />"Why do you say that?" asked Sheryl, who has MS.<br /><br />"Well, you just have to go out in the street to realize that God doesn't exist. Tell me, if God exists, would there be so many sick people? Would there be abandoned children? If God existed, there would be neither suffering nor pain. I can't imagine a loving God who would allow all of these things."<br /><br />Then Sheryl thought for a moment, but didn't respond because she didn't want to start an argument. The beautician just finished her job and the customer left the shop. Just after she left the beauty shop, she saw a woman in the street with long, stringy, dirty hair and not groomed at all. She looked dirty and unkempt.<br /><br />Sheryl turned back and entered the beauty shop again and she said to the beautician: "You know what? Beauticians do not exist."<br /><br />"How can you say that?" asked the surprised beautician. "I am here, and I am a beautician. And I just worked on you!"<br /><br />"No!" Sheryl exclaimed. "Beauticians don't exist because if they did, there would be no people with dirty long hair and be very unkempt, like that woman outside."<br /><br />"Ah, but beauticians DO exist! What happens is, people do not come to me."<br /><br />"Exactly", affirmed Sheryl. "That 's the point! God, too, DOES exist! What happens, is, people don't go to Him and do not look for Him. That's why there' s so much pain and suffering in the world."</em><br /><br />I got this from my father exactly a year ago and thought i'd share it with you guys.puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-87255144438786037602008-10-09T11:00:00.019+08:002008-10-09T15:26:53.891+08:00Guess where we was at last week?<div align="justify">Hubs found out on Monday that he needed to fly off to Paris (again) for a meeting. We had a family trip to Cameron Highlands planned that Friday to Sunday. He managed to get a flight out of KLIA on midnight Sunday. On Wednesday, I asked hubs if Elil and I could join him on his trip. He'd been travelling so much lately, I just needed more time with him. "Let me check my points", he said. He confirmed he had enough points with Enrich and booked our tickets. On Thursday we purchased our tickets and got Elil's passport done in 2 hours. We took her picture the night before, she was in her jammies. Hehe. Hubs changed his flight to Saturday midnight and off we were....<br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyW8otO4_YIAxj8s6fw6mByJMSUOZ1g7gSiQMElZkqu4tBsrejeBLFw6cu0PIG-13snY2Pww0jcCkuG9mTtMmVQpGojE30cBnIz6iO237PBdOj6vkMrYPMLztZjYi2HaGdrl2_gw/s1600-h/Picture+001.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254984289720304546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyW8otO4_YIAxj8s6fw6mByJMSUOZ1g7gSiQMElZkqu4tBsrejeBLFw6cu0PIG-13snY2Pww0jcCkuG9mTtMmVQpGojE30cBnIz6iO237PBdOj6vkMrYPMLztZjYi2HaGdrl2_gw/s400/Picture+001.jpg" border="0" /></a> Bonjour Paris! Here we are at the airport. Elil slept 10 hours of the 12.5 hour flight. Thank goodness! I really needed the rest after the 3.5 hour drive from Cameron and then the rush packing before the drive to KLIA.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPd_BWE693TWfuOiVoH96ZteC4bjFXb3DwRJLYVXV__h6HroTlGP8hjM6D8PN_eqwmCFKDNc0e36-vEru6keJC1NC2oJmRdjABMI0kdfML57Ma-Mbwpf-WnuWLP9EXHho8PripoQ/s1600-h/Picture+003.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254986143189440178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPd_BWE693TWfuOiVoH96ZteC4bjFXb3DwRJLYVXV__h6HroTlGP8hjM6D8PN_eqwmCFKDNc0e36-vEru6keJC1NC2oJmRdjABMI0kdfML57Ma-Mbwpf-WnuWLP9EXHho8PripoQ/s400/Picture+003.jpg" border="0" /></a>We landed at about 6 am. By the time we got our luggage and the rental car, it was about 8 am. Check-in time at the hotel was after 1 pm. So we managed to do some sight-seeing around the Avenue Des Champs Elysees and down to Le Arc De Triomphe.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggnYLlmSbpoRx4i0z_jGbZvJhzKI2hQsMqyZqKA3qF47AwtdVMQSeRv-oPMa5YsE-9rEYHWqjGSKtMbT2rC1U8-QlWK86Y8TDy-oEYP3QQxU-N_2ezAb5DE4TQT9ElYGaKW1l2ng/s1600-h/Picture+007.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255041171622531762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggnYLlmSbpoRx4i0z_jGbZvJhzKI2hQsMqyZqKA3qF47AwtdVMQSeRv-oPMa5YsE-9rEYHWqjGSKtMbT2rC1U8-QlWK86Y8TDy-oEYP3QQxU-N_2ezAb5DE4TQT9ElYGaKW1l2ng/s400/Picture+007.jpg" border="0" /></a> Elil chasing after her flying scarf with her mouth.<br /></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6IQPNqv2G_3NO2ZY1gEcFEc5a58S8CnpulYsiQwit2mbZvTLRiIZZRqs2fLNO4jOlbUHkMAD3JiVwqtIKVegfJ4r-20kK2CJq7sxxhEJdsLA3JQY6Hw2AaJJJE40XcvkUWngiOQ/s1600-h/Picture+005.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255002788077424770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6IQPNqv2G_3NO2ZY1gEcFEc5a58S8CnpulYsiQwit2mbZvTLRiIZZRqs2fLNO4jOlbUHkMAD3JiVwqtIKVegfJ4r-20kK2CJq7sxxhEJdsLA3JQY6Hw2AaJJJE40XcvkUWngiOQ/s400/Picture+005.jpg" border="0" /></a> Elil refuses to pose for the camera.</div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyGYf7TjG3oHu8WpBuUGayop1uRU8nuq_r7SIzgjJYJ98ylaE10qBT3wTdZqME9ZFK63ZP9-t3lSSNLnWcpMgj7OUwmrZU7wAHzVxD9PoTqH60KDWq2mfuJsYsi-hZq0FmsoDLTA/s1600-h/Picture+091.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255044821036052514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyGYf7TjG3oHu8WpBuUGayop1uRU8nuq_r7SIzgjJYJ98ylaE10qBT3wTdZqME9ZFK63ZP9-t3lSSNLnWcpMgj7OUwmrZU7wAHzVxD9PoTqH60KDWq2mfuJsYsi-hZq0FmsoDLTA/s400/Picture+091.jpg" border="0" /></a> Alala so happy we all!</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGyyzPbSuxTgRkAPkrCqvkjkKZIOBXaaO82remJehjgYdU-7NVNY2Mmre14f4F-XoKaHcXIZCWiMiOlqQjBRZ1KjBe_H42Wj3bZ5en7cT7aov2PD6EHyzjd_8hVIYZs8G7eID8lA/s1600-h/Picture+093.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255044270701405138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGyyzPbSuxTgRkAPkrCqvkjkKZIOBXaaO82remJehjgYdU-7NVNY2Mmre14f4F-XoKaHcXIZCWiMiOlqQjBRZ1KjBe_H42Wj3bZ5en7cT7aov2PD6EHyzjd_8hVIYZs8G7eID8lA/s400/Picture+093.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEsQOjpI38E5DEusp5RDWSSnrPnKG8Gl66hSgVJQksgONApUOydI22fO1grhm5TVvh-A7ZkUZXXbidLQkDatueULM5gfJyNQFh_KgKGqDS4ZjFN97FViFC9vRwsmgDa4kApzAE8A/s1600-h/Picture+042.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255043609893784674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEsQOjpI38E5DEusp5RDWSSnrPnKG8Gl66hSgVJQksgONApUOydI22fO1grhm5TVvh-A7ZkUZXXbidLQkDatueULM5gfJyNQFh_KgKGqDS4ZjFN97FViFC9vRwsmgDa4kApzAE8A/s400/Picture+042.jpg" border="0" /></a> Catwalking on the Champs.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQtjVrrQMZFt9QSe673vC33NF3fCd-I1zzny-pKNeWswDBCySmpA6QhE8edITKlh2czCYjny_ELaOJaX1aZ2aczn54IS-n-3oIix5NOt5XFXf7a5iLUGiY-1zZX4_qWy-j1fiTyA/s1600-h/Picture+100.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254988576469591682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQtjVrrQMZFt9QSe673vC33NF3fCd-I1zzny-pKNeWswDBCySmpA6QhE8edITKlh2czCYjny_ELaOJaX1aZ2aczn54IS-n-3oIix5NOt5XFXf7a5iLUGiY-1zZX4_qWy-j1fiTyA/s400/Picture+100.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The Cathedrale Notre Dame was as usual amazing and beautiful. Inspiring and moving.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtK8vhyC8bluI1nKLWCexioid1a7IgjiEK7i3clW168mhdLrsOVIToymR1rLbX0Rf_SnqCjnIWXVMB_BHXBjM5rAEQe7yR8GmlWCtwwGKs_sj86U1q5zTlF1UMk3a-bpnrvqhpBw/s1600-h/Picture+108.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254988496771432082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtK8vhyC8bluI1nKLWCexioid1a7IgjiEK7i3clW168mhdLrsOVIToymR1rLbX0Rf_SnqCjnIWXVMB_BHXBjM5rAEQe7yR8GmlWCtwwGKs_sj86U1q5zTlF1UMk3a-bpnrvqhpBw/s400/Picture+108.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Standing in front of a statue of St Joan of Arc (Jeanne De Arc) who was canonized in this cathedral by Pope Benedict XV. Read more about her <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joan_of_Arc/">here</a>.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Rshr8k_L1zZ3usEQyUjW8Uf35XiQae9DZKOGiWzVx8W8zNxbdAuhMyXIQxBhEyXrO7eB43KeGyNthVaaSBgTCNQRyJPPYt3cVL4UfrhaSxWUHfUr9JoNZ4-ASFJhyphenhyphenJYp4eY9fw/s1600-h/Picture+110.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254988422401549122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Rshr8k_L1zZ3usEQyUjW8Uf35XiQae9DZKOGiWzVx8W8zNxbdAuhMyXIQxBhEyXrO7eB43KeGyNthVaaSBgTCNQRyJPPYt3cVL4UfrhaSxWUHfUr9JoNZ4-ASFJhyphenhyphenJYp4eY9fw/s400/Picture+110.jpg" border="0" /></a> The stain glass was breathtaking.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3gm88xQztTsjTXaJaqhlemd89X54_pSf1uUBVSgkM1aac1k7OCO49goO7-qmKrpYwqFY8fS7ljJTOndLWypCys2QoR71zj4PLL7EoT6vRetlRhm91W18uPPBJhmhRnwQEksgIKg/s1600-h/Picture+111.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254988169460475010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3gm88xQztTsjTXaJaqhlemd89X54_pSf1uUBVSgkM1aac1k7OCO49goO7-qmKrpYwqFY8fS7ljJTOndLWypCys2QoR71zj4PLL7EoT6vRetlRhm91W18uPPBJhmhRnwQEksgIKg/s400/Picture+111.jpg" border="0" /></a> I stopped and sat at the pews for several minutes just taking it all in and lifting myself to God. It was a truly peaceful experience.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYmWBnUGz3lxYIuq83JfM4fpef8PvchvUBvrgEhxwaKipK4a2DT0BSLqZePAx_fKdmfWu8SjmuoUGstf0hWup_YRakPaj3ElJcjjg_aLnaK8NBy3qVjwneWSt-RWGu8BDoEaTT1Q/s1600-h/Picture+020.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254988687515910338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYmWBnUGz3lxYIuq83JfM4fpef8PvchvUBvrgEhxwaKipK4a2DT0BSLqZePAx_fKdmfWu8SjmuoUGstf0hWup_YRakPaj3ElJcjjg_aLnaK8NBy3qVjwneWSt-RWGu8BDoEaTT1Q/s400/Picture+020.jpg" border="0" /></a> The altar.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMuO3ygcGuG_4C2gGzifzJpjB9ZCEscA8ipl0i4Ai5DihHHciFoHF9GJR3dojcN1flVFYZ84wuhSPfN7I8093HWXo3rDyYVHCu1NhMYwf2HQ5_3XTWwHUa1_UL5HfsTSk0vGrZ7g/s1600-h/Picture+024.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254991685028489058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMuO3ygcGuG_4C2gGzifzJpjB9ZCEscA8ipl0i4Ai5DihHHciFoHF9GJR3dojcN1flVFYZ84wuhSPfN7I8093HWXo3rDyYVHCu1NhMYwf2HQ5_3XTWwHUa1_UL5HfsTSk0vGrZ7g/s400/Picture+024.jpg" border="0" /></a> From the Notre Dam we walked down the river (don't know what its called) to Musee Du Louvre, the world's most visited art museum. The most famous art piece housed in the Louvre would probably be Leonardo Da Vinci's Mona Lisa. We did not go in. The main reason being, hubs was here 2 weeks earlieron a business trip and he had had his little tour. Myself I was here in 1998 and have my picture in front of Miss Mona Lisa and others. Plus we had Elil and well 16 month old + historic museums don't mesh very well if you know what I mean. ;)<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv67t5tjvdbA3V-_76_7BkEnZAEEk4W9NiTdC6jH8_LwgApfsNXUZF9LM2B44-wUmbatB7a9LCljREEU8Si1ur5v1ibJheSutcraYK41xMuuBrbDBfKZsRawqNg5x_3H08j97CFg/s1600-h/Picture+026.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254991617203832882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv67t5tjvdbA3V-_76_7BkEnZAEEk4W9NiTdC6jH8_LwgApfsNXUZF9LM2B44-wUmbatB7a9LCljREEU8Si1ur5v1ibJheSutcraYK41xMuuBrbDBfKZsRawqNg5x_3H08j97CFg/s400/Picture+026.jpg" border="0" /></a>More shots of us outside The Louvre. </div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipGJ793cPJCJE_PGQjdccy8AapDE3lP1M2nrVMjOtaXe1is8TbVZsY1HkpZi_d7-0vQAWc0jACmZOttSLe3mY9Q60ug-wRwg_2i8n2X4HFeigWr-i7lSAsq5zZrH2qQWWmy8t3nw/s1600-h/Picture+112.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254991548741035202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipGJ793cPJCJE_PGQjdccy8AapDE3lP1M2nrVMjOtaXe1is8TbVZsY1HkpZi_d7-0vQAWc0jACmZOttSLe3mY9Q60ug-wRwg_2i8n2X4HFeigWr-i7lSAsq5zZrH2qQWWmy8t3nw/s400/Picture+112.jpg" border="0" /></a> Me giving my best super'mama'model shot.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglkQzkSJ4LHh7Hc_T4g1CdrIAm8W8wxCBF9TIcdhJZL8xsIsFn3okV6bvfrXTmib3Wsi7dKvosAArBDmygkJdivzShn6r_rQizLVO-VRKH8TLyuRZ7Y3bgxIJXtV0NUH1YVm9GVw/s1600-h/Picture+035.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254991478302443010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglkQzkSJ4LHh7Hc_T4g1CdrIAm8W8wxCBF9TIcdhJZL8xsIsFn3okV6bvfrXTmib3Wsi7dKvosAArBDmygkJdivzShn6r_rQizLVO-VRKH8TLyuRZ7Y3bgxIJXtV0NUH1YVm9GVw/s400/Picture+035.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Elil getting friendly with a Korean tourist. She scribbled in the lady's diary. And refused to return her pen.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMb9baZPc1wtVZH_ePugUAUTg5eTMJSX3qScHSJ1UrXCwuuBRgUmaNTpJ9-3o4kH8-VOg0s36NHvK_XtudaQPae9EWyEGrdmQI8L8TNGAQ5pc7jubOy5z1bqZpFgpl_ICO_JIRLg/s1600-h/Picture+126.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254989728825741154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMb9baZPc1wtVZH_ePugUAUTg5eTMJSX3qScHSJ1UrXCwuuBRgUmaNTpJ9-3o4kH8-VOg0s36NHvK_XtudaQPae9EWyEGrdmQI8L8TNGAQ5pc7jubOy5z1bqZpFgpl_ICO_JIRLg/s400/Picture+126.jpg" border="0" /></a> Me outside the Palais Du Louvre. Hubs took soooo long to take this picture. I was getting very uncomfortable and self-conscious because I'm standing smack in the center of a major crossing and people walking past had to totally go out of their way to avoid us. It was embarassing. Luckily the picture turned out ok.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3HwBwQxgqKh1xr2oUHYWKWS2nrjuUHngFcfs0eG7QtxfwsEB8mDNePu5LckKmRaox4-gj8zrk7QT1U5na8ibRwOHh9u5H2fuGdYeQ089DHXmZxyraKn3CKs1Swrx-3QUspFNNuw/s1600-h/Picture+127.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254989620129941298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3HwBwQxgqKh1xr2oUHYWKWS2nrjuUHngFcfs0eG7QtxfwsEB8mDNePu5LckKmRaox4-gj8zrk7QT1U5na8ibRwOHh9u5H2fuGdYeQ089DHXmZxyraKn3CKs1Swrx-3QUspFNNuw/s400/Picture+127.jpg" border="0" /></a> Blending in with other Parisians! Ha ha!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Y1_n35sfRAusHuHjswV6W5gy981rbEfR3xY3QVpKu-0YqLbYpvJVWV7SZs43pXRcUkCl-dtTbTYV-FBIesyAr2k0Z8ZLq1YaXj0wwek5YREHDOp2oN9aJ-s8xysBkwXd-mroVA/s1600-h/Picture+120.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255048873664626770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Y1_n35sfRAusHuHjswV6W5gy981rbEfR3xY3QVpKu-0YqLbYpvJVWV7SZs43pXRcUkCl-dtTbTYV-FBIesyAr2k0Z8ZLq1YaXj0wwek5YREHDOp2oN9aJ-s8xysBkwXd-mroVA/s400/Picture+120.jpg" border="0" /></a> We had a real long long walk that day...we were on our feet for probably 4 hours. It was tiring but real nice. Our destination was this departmental store that was selling this real funky and affordable jacket. 3/4 ofthe way, we turned back. It was cold and we were tired. I was upset I didn't get my jacket but hubs got me a real cool handbag instead. So still happy.</div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3h6jr57Ulp3_4JpORqwVPCsj11PBeSYU1tnr7eEXNHMtYxpGMHmXaXLeEjIbMeBuf6Q02i4XBKNq_bQ8jAY6j5893rzTJjtpfq8vsgOBhUkZOvUzfs-FMeNWKukpsON8OaVI58Q/s1600-h/Picture+119.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255048296566978066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3h6jr57Ulp3_4JpORqwVPCsj11PBeSYU1tnr7eEXNHMtYxpGMHmXaXLeEjIbMeBuf6Q02i4XBKNq_bQ8jAY6j5893rzTJjtpfq8vsgOBhUkZOvUzfs-FMeNWKukpsON8OaVI58Q/s400/Picture+119.jpg" border="0" /></a> It was chilly that evening. I was freezing. Hubs was walking around in a t-shirt, tula got lots of blubber to keep him nice and warm. ;)<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy2nse9CwThsR9TjWj7uHPt8gE1DiFR3C1DODbNlAFaM_sD0EXss_teoP6Wvn8G30F1h_4gqUM8RZBBV_pVOZde3ZqZlW1kTrJONKaL2ekg_ZOudtulRYXJvKcx4dsC4D-r50WhQ/s1600-h/Picture+044.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255046873953162338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy2nse9CwThsR9TjWj7uHPt8gE1DiFR3C1DODbNlAFaM_sD0EXss_teoP6Wvn8G30F1h_4gqUM8RZBBV_pVOZde3ZqZlW1kTrJONKaL2ekg_ZOudtulRYXJvKcx4dsC4D-r50WhQ/s400/Picture+044.jpg" border="0" /></a> We had a great time in Paris. I'm so glad we got the chance to join hubs. He only had to work 1 day out of the 5 days we were there so it was great! </div><div> </div><div>Thanks babe for the wonderful holiday!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /></div>puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7084036.post-35134096551694964762008-09-23T15:20:00.006+08:002008-09-24T08:19:25.834+08:00Pregnant Pu: 6 months (updated with more pix)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaiDFO_gHTSPz2ANmE5VatJrpRGPpRG_YFGXEAE7wRybsliUdP10Jk30IQYosX0KBB-_wqOPXix85pgh42KDWbeos57QsounG08Xb3zOlDGdrT5nFH8kOUzXE2IOQvRHtzuNtItw/s1600-h/HPIM1124.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249375612085736914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaiDFO_gHTSPz2ANmE5VatJrpRGPpRG_YFGXEAE7wRybsliUdP10Jk30IQYosX0KBB-_wqOPXix85pgh42KDWbeos57QsounG08Xb3zOlDGdrT5nFH8kOUzXE2IOQvRHtzuNtItw/s400/HPIM1124.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFAIOqXuwZPHHN2_HmA_4rZ-iAgXDM_eZIKQh49Z3EU9ahc8zMZQ-_IUT9CRYXKXH3ilwYe2Oc5VizYhJCNnRvN0Y3yRbwSQYtdC0MiLFCnszZMN9qSGm-HmRQfs2t3bov0NDlCQ/s1600-h/HPIM1113.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249372136589327410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFAIOqXuwZPHHN2_HmA_4rZ-iAgXDM_eZIKQh49Z3EU9ahc8zMZQ-_IUT9CRYXKXH3ilwYe2Oc5VizYhJCNnRvN0Y3yRbwSQYtdC0MiLFCnszZMN9qSGm-HmRQfs2t3bov0NDlCQ/s400/HPIM1113.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5oBYpF04gF0WHAeRlZdxbezXLYQ2XdajrwHCoutkaaI2aSEI-Co6BaI4WcEovPUAosEtypW173eFMkdpPswgRLfTcgfWgzW8haERFBXx70wwb-JdE_Yx9b0hYcvqtc8pMv2ILg/s1600-h/HPIM1132.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249116687530747186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5oBYpF04gF0WHAeRlZdxbezXLYQ2XdajrwHCoutkaaI2aSEI-Co6BaI4WcEovPUAosEtypW173eFMkdpPswgRLfTcgfWgzW8haERFBXx70wwb-JdE_Yx9b0hYcvqtc8pMv2ILg/s400/HPIM1132.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHmtMhwtAqrpf4TdSeLoCEftaaoIaStUYoO28uC7A2wF0jwny7LBBaFc4TlApLZAFI8GLGg9hBNW8Oqzp2dh-pI5gZY2WhCwxwUSO-RR1CPcXZkSCLXu9OL_xe14aezeEfApfCzg/s1600-h/HPIM1122.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249114828258749474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHmtMhwtAqrpf4TdSeLoCEftaaoIaStUYoO28uC7A2wF0jwny7LBBaFc4TlApLZAFI8GLGg9hBNW8Oqzp2dh-pI5gZY2WhCwxwUSO-RR1CPcXZkSCLXu9OL_xe14aezeEfApfCzg/s400/HPIM1122.JPG" border="0" /></a> I have very few photos of me pregnant with Elil. I regret not taking more. It's such a beautiful experience being pregnant (after the first trimester anyway!). I love looking at pregnant ladies, always wanting to touch the unborn child. Some women don't like this so must be very careful. However, if ever you see me preggers again, feel free to caress my belly. ;) </div><br />Why bah this blogger acting up? Ahh! I'm posting this now. Hmph! Network Error my bum-bum!</div></div>puhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16679985538789180559noreply@blogger.com0