Dog tired

The title says it all.

Dog tired. Worse than a dog, I feel like two dogs.

Now that I've just returned from a food review and finished my articles.

The day started off with our dear Jubilee rolling off the bed. I spent all morning wondering if she'll become retarded. Or lapse into a coma. Or have some form of delayed paralysis.

And this is just immediately after she's recovered from 5 days worth of diarrhoea.

I don't know who suffered more. Me or Jubi.

I cleared more than enough poop to last me through ten lifetimes, worried till a pimple popped out of my chin and what did our Dearest do?

She merely laughed and giggled everytime I wiped her ass. What a sweet baby.

This wasnt the type of life I had envisioned when I stepped into the working world. I imagined jet-setting round the world, with a notepad and a pen in hand, scribbling down poetry, shmoozing with strangers, going to bed in a sheer, sexy nightie.

Not this now.

Jet-setting to East Point/ Tampines Mall with baby in a sling, poopy diaper and snot-filled hankies in hand, making a fool of myself by singing "itsy witsy spider", running after the babbling one in a t-shirt streaked with regurgitated milk.

Not what I had envisioned.

But look at the following pictures and tell me if I should regret. (Pls ignore the mozzie bite on her cheek)

She looks cute even when she's bawling :)

Guess who called?

Guess who called me?
Ms Ng. Yup, the mousy, nervous, high-strung Ms Ng who taught me photography in Poly.

She wanted to revive the alumni group for my year.

Embarrassingly, I used to be the president of my alumni year, but passed on the baton to a more "on" course mate because I was pregnant with the sprog at that time (yea, that was certainly a handy excuse).

Anyway, here's a portion of our conversation which I found hilarious:

Ms Ng: Are you still at TODAY?
Me: Yea. Why?
Ms Ng: Do you still keep in contact with any of your classmates?
Me: Yea (and I rattle off a list of whoever I still keep in contact with - actually, they're only two lah :P)
Ms Ng: Oh, how about the rest? Changchin, Zengmin, Dan, Angela Soh, Pamela... (etc etc)
Me: I'm not sure what happened to them. Why did you call, Ms Ng?
Ms Ng: Oh... You have a baby now right? How old?
Me: Yea. she's 6 months.
Ms Ng: So cute.
Me: Yea. Anyway, why did you call me?
Ms Ng: where do you live?
Me: Pasir Ris. It's opp Loyang Point. You know where it is?
Ms Ng: No, I don't. But can I visit you some time to see your baby?
Me: Sure! Errr... Why did you call?
Ms Ng: Actually I better not, since you're so busy now.
Me: No la. You're welcome to come over any time.
(Short pause)
Me: So why did you call, Ms Ng?
Ms Ng: Oh, actually I was told to revive your year's alumni group.
Me: Ah...
Ms Ng: Oh, how's Pamela? Where's she now?
Me: Huh?!

Anyway we bantered a little more about the teachers at school and the current batches of CMM students.

She's such a sweet lady, this Ms Ng. But I'll never forgive her for giving me a D for photography.

Farewell Garlic

Sometimes, grief for a loss of your loved one doesnt set in after much later.
Just the other day, I was taking a quick bath while the baby was bawling (nothing new).
And I thought of Garlic.
My cat who died just about 5 months ago.
I've been so caught up in everything - job changes, changing diapers, breastfeeding that I never really had time to let this sneaky emotion called Grief set in.

Garlic and I - oh, we had good times together.
She slept in my armpit, and I used to bury my head into her too-many-cat treats tummy.
She waited for me by the gate whenever I came back from work.
She was the only cat amongst the rest who would sleep with her legs in the air because she trusted me.
And oh, of course, she was the greediest too.
I had great fantasies of her and Jubilee becoming great friends.

Before she passed on, I told myself that one day, I would write a children's book on The Adventures of Garlic The Super Cat.
But before I could even start on Chapter 1, she was gone.
No more Garlic. No more adventures together.

Guilt makes grief worse.
While she was battling liver disease in her final stages, I could not be by her side all the time.
I remember, during the first few weeks of my confinement,
when I was still weak and tired from the stitches in my womb,
I would sneak back to my mother's house just sit by her side for 15 minutes every other day.
To put my hand on her head, and to sliently say: I'm sorry. The baby is crying at home, and I don't know how to look after both you and her.

I would weep and pray for God to save her.
But of course, he never did.

Finally, I decided to put her to sleep.
Because the doctor said she had no more hope.
Because I saw her suffer and I saw no hope.
And maybe because, in my own way, I was selfish.
And that I wanted to end her suffering. As well as mine.

So I remember very clearly that day.
My mum drove Garlic, me and my 1 month old baby to the vet.
I remember:Sitting in between my 2 beloved.Jubilee, healthy, and sleeping contently in the infant car seat on my left.
Garlic, ill, yellow and delirious in a cat carrier on my right.
I remember, putting my hand into the carrier and stroking her.
Again saying a silent sorry to her.
She let out a long terrible howl.
Gasped a little.
And she was gone before we reached the clinic.

I don't believe in cat heaven. So I won't kid myself by saying she's gone on to a better place.

But although the love between us was all too short-lived; it was a damn good run while it lasted.

Farewell Garlic.

Hear me babble, would you?

This is all very strange I must say.
Why in the world would a full-time mum,
full-time writer and part-time wife like me set up a blog?

I must be sick in the mind to not be sick of words.
But I'm not.

For those who know about my current plight,
I think loneliness drove me to it.

Holed up at home with a babbling 5-month-old daughter
and churning out story after story makes me lonely.

I need to talk, and I need someone to hear me babble.
So there.