Now I am in my kampung Tuaran Labuaya. I have a cousin. His name is also Eric Ribuan and Eric noel is my name. He is 11 years old. I have my PS2 in the kampung. He doesn’t have a video game. His daddy doesn’t buy for him.

Taking care of a toddler and a newborn baby simultaneously is a nerve-wreaking experience to say the least. I’m even developing insomnia because of anxiety attacks I’m facing. Anxiety because I wanted to be alert at every sound Ezra makes. Every time I close my eyes, my brain goes into panic mode. I could feel my brain screaming, “Ezra’s gonna scream at any moment! Don’t sleep, don’t sleep!” All this is not helping my already sleep-deprived body.

Times such as these are what made me wish I was a working mother instead of stay at home mom. Being out of control is one of the things I fear the most for as long as I can remember. Being a mother means accepting that things are often, if not mostly, out of our control. Especially when our children gets sick. It’s heart-wrenching. Even if you install an air purifier to obtain fresh air by ecoquest international and prevent allergies, there are bound to be other things that they’ll fall sick over. And I can’t handle that reality, most of the time.

But I do my best. I sacrifice. That’s what mothers are suppose to do isn’t it?

I recently read a personal blog by Daphne Iking (a famous personality in Malaysia) journalizing her life as a new mom. The posts that caught my eye were ones where she talks about breastfeeding. I read the comments section of those posts as well, and am glad that her blog readers were still supportive of whichever path she chose to feed her baby daughter.

Why do some people become so judgmental over mothers who choose to bottle-feed or formula-feed their babies, instead of breastfeed (BF) or breast milking them? I believe 99.9% of mothers out there ideally would love to BF their children. Ideally. Realistically, however, breast feeding doesn’t come naturally to a lot of people, including myself. My damned inverted nipples have me resorting to expressing my milk (thank the Lord for electric breast pumps!), and between caring for my kids and managing the household, the only best time for me to pump is at midnight, which means that I’m sacrificing at least another hour of my already sleep-deprived life. Don’t start with me about those La Leche or similar groups that are suppose to help you with breastfeeding matters, because they’re not available in my country or anywhere close to my vicinity.

So it’s bad enough that non-breastfeeding mothers feel guilty over the inability to BF, but to have others, mostly total strangers giving us such a hard time with it is so uncalled for. Let us moms be moms and take care of our kids the best way we possibly can. And to the non-BF moms out there, remember that at the end of the day, it’s not those bashers and strangers who will be caring for your kids the rest of your children’s lives — it’s you. So go ahead, do what is best for BOTH yourself and your children. Your TLC is what’s going to make your children grow up to be a healthy, beautiful and loving children you hope them to be.

My e-mail subscription to BabyCenter led me to an article about the different development-boosting games you can play with your baby. One tip caught my eye, and I just had to laugh when I read its last sentence.

The tip talks about dancing around with your baby in your arms. The writer talks about how her baby gradually became accustomed to the movements and started preferring more aggresive exaggerated ones like bumping, swinging the baby in the air, silly hand movements, or shaking your booty. The writer did advice to take extra precautions when doing so with your baby. But the one invaluable advice when you plan to dance around is this: “close the drapes so the neighbors won’t see.”

Very good advice indeed

A long time ago, I used to actively keep up with Eric’s developmental activities, noting down what month he started rolling, crawling, standing up, had his first tooth, etc. Although I pay attention to Joel’s development as well, I haven’t really been rushing to put things on paper, or blog them.

It’s good to note, anyways, that Joel has been reaching all his milestones like a text book, even his 13-to-18-month milestones. He doesn’t throw tantrums that much, as he’s been using the simple sign languages I’ve taught him whenever he’s hungry, sleepy, wanting to bathe, or even changing the channels and choosing the cartoons he wants to watch. Joel loves to say bye-bye and hi to his dad on his way to and from work. He’s also a real joker, who likes to entertain Eric and myself with his pretend falling down antics and turning around in a spot till he’s dizzy and then having a big laugh out of it.

I’m eagerly awaiting Joel to reach his next crucial milestone — learning to potty. I’m pretty anxious about this because I haven’t really taught him how to communicate with me whenever he wants to urinate; he only knows how to tell me when he poos. He’s almost a year and a half now, the same age as when I started potty training Eric, and he managed to go diaper-free after just 3 months. I don’t know how both of us did it, but I hope Joel and I get the same success because it does look like Joel doesn’t enjoy his potty that much.