The insufferable smothering heat has its fingers wrapped around my throat, making the mere act of breathing in this suffocating heat a feat. Being out of the pad is quite unthinkable now.
After the haircut last Friday, the short walk in the torrid sun to meet the man at the Chinese restaurant proved to be too gruelling. Finally seated, my body was palpitating wildly. I felt faint and sick. I couldn't even finish a quarter of the food we ordered and had to leave in a haste after packing the food.
The little ordeal worn me out completely and I took a much needed nap. Thankfully that left me revitalized afterwards!
Few days later while preparing dinner, I suddenly broke out into cold sweat and was feeling faint. I scrambled for a chair to sit down, but this time not without the new bestie who is never out of my sight now. Namely, the fan. The cool cool breeze luckily brought sweet relief. And the blood sugar level was restored after the dinner and some shut-eye.
I had to find out what's wrong with me! A quick research on the net concludes that such symptoms are due to overheating and are not uncommon during pregnancy. Phew...
No wonder lah! Even sleep eludes me these days. The term good night's sleep is now as alien to me as the extraterrestrial. The killer summer heat is not the only culprit though. Heartburn, gastric pain, frequent loo visits, body itchiness, false contractions gladly play the accomplice's role too. Some nights, even the leg cramps turn up unexpectedly to join in the fun.
Now in the 38 weeks and 19kg heavier, the huge bump really does get in the way. Even simple acts which we usually take for granted such as bending or squatting down to pick a thing up is now too strenuous and often leave me breathless.
Still, I find these minor inconveniences and common pregnancy ailments rather bearable. The air-con-idolizing Singaporean in me however is incapable of tolerating the hot spell. The essential but welcoming cold shower at least twice a day to cleanse away the dull lethargy has become inevitable.
Thus I am curious how long I am gonna last when the traditional Chinese one-month house arrest beckons.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Trivia
Helmut Schmidt, former Chancellor of West GermanyPossibly the only person whose lighting up on German national TV is tolerated. I kinda like his unyielding wilful spirit despite the controversy surrounding his chain-smoking. They certainly didn't elect him as Chancellor for nothing.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Pork Kakuni with Scallop Congee - Failed!
Give me slabs of ribs, briskets, cuts from shoulder, butt, belly or shank anytime and I will be more than happy to immediately seek out recipes to braise, stew or simmer the essence out of these inexpensive yet yummy meat. Sure, who doesn't love that tender juicy piece of steak? In fact, I've been lusting after it for months now. I just need to be more patient for abit longer... But I can never refuse a melt-in-your-mouth braise or stew. No matter how blistering hot the weather is. It is quite simply an all-time favourite grub.
Another comfort food will be the congee. Don't be fooled by its plain and unpretentious glob of mass. If you put heart into cooking it and add in some soul ingredients like chicken broth and dried scallops, the fine flavour of this smooth creamy rice soup will bowl you over for certain.
So what do I do when a recipe that calls for slow braising of pork belly and congee was lurking on the net, waiting for me to uncover it and I did? It got my mouth watering and I decided to cook up a storm! But not without weeks of procastination. Let's just say 8 hours of braising, 2 hours of simmering and other preparations is not exactly what I have in mind to spend my day. Until the pig in me dreamt of the dish. Well, high time to gather all the necessary ingredients to satiate the glutton.
The enthusiasm was unmistakable when I finally got the ball rolling. I was eager to savour the fruit of my labour especially when the reviews were raving so much about it.
I couldn't rein in my impatience any longer as I was plating the belly and congee for some photos.
On its own, the congee was perfect. Smooth and delicate. I could gobble up bowls of it. And that's how I am going to cook my congee in future, provided I am not too lazy.
The pork belly was in fact meltingly tender with little hints of fat as the long braising had rendered most of the fat away. But with such a long tedious process of preparing the meat, I had expected the ensuing result to blow me away with its bursting flavours. What a disappointing letdown when it did not!
Another comfort food will be the congee. Don't be fooled by its plain and unpretentious glob of mass. If you put heart into cooking it and add in some soul ingredients like chicken broth and dried scallops, the fine flavour of this smooth creamy rice soup will bowl you over for certain.
So what do I do when a recipe that calls for slow braising of pork belly and congee was lurking on the net, waiting for me to uncover it and I did? It got my mouth watering and I decided to cook up a storm! But not without weeks of procastination. Let's just say 8 hours of braising, 2 hours of simmering and other preparations is not exactly what I have in mind to spend my day. Until the pig in me dreamt of the dish. Well, high time to gather all the necessary ingredients to satiate the glutton.
The enthusiasm was unmistakable when I finally got the ball rolling. I was eager to savour the fruit of my labour especially when the reviews were raving so much about it.
I couldn't rein in my impatience any longer as I was plating the belly and congee for some photos.
On its own, the congee was perfect. Smooth and delicate. I could gobble up bowls of it. And that's how I am going to cook my congee in future, provided I am not too lazy.
The pork belly was in fact meltingly tender with little hints of fat as the long braising had rendered most of the fat away. But with such a long tedious process of preparing the meat, I had expected the ensuing result to blow me away with its bursting flavours. What a disappointing letdown when it did not!
Hmmm... Perhaps my indiscernible palate is incapable of appreciating this fine Japanese delicacy. I think the Chinaman in me would rather have the Tau Yu Bak (Braised Pork in Soy Sauce) anytime.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
World Cup a-frenzy
Some people think it's silly watching 22 men chasing after a ball for 90 mins. But apparently there are many others who think otherwise. Or else why is the World Cup the most widely viewed sporting event in the world?
I can't recall from my sketchy memory when I began watching football. But growing up with the many uncles around me must have effected that influence on the then impressionable young me. While other girls were playing dressing up with their dolls, I was out dribbling football with the uncles. This skinny tanned little niece was undoubtly quite a tomboy in their eyes.
I do not usually follow the Premier League, La Liga, Serie A, or the Bundesliga but I certainly would not miss the World Cup.
The World Cup final in 1994 etched deeply in my memory. Like many Singaporeans, I was up in the wee hours to catch the match between Italy and Brazil. The game was scoreless through extra time. During the penalty shoot out, my fave footballer, Roberto Baggio, alas missed the final penalty kick which made Brazil the winner that year.
As Baggio hung his head with Brazil celebrating behind him, a dull heartache got hold of me and I laid sleepless that night. I couldn't get over the loss for days. It was as if I got dumped by a boyfriend!
I wondered then, 'How does one live with that?'
He answered that in his autobiography years later, '...it affected me for years. It's the worst moment of my career. I still dream about it. If I could erase a moment from my career, it would be that one.'
Well, that's football...
4 years ago, I was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time when Germany hosted the World Cup. Though it was just the tiny Stuttgart city, the vibes were electrifying! A huge screen was erected in the park. German fans turned up in full force to support their country in one of the matches. Basking in the cheerful sunny weather with beer in our hands, the mood was a relax one. And when Germany won that match, all hell broke loose! Fans lined and blocked the streets singing, dancing and chanting, 'Berlin, Berlin, wir fahren nach Berlin!' The festive mood was absolutely infectious. No matter we were stuck in the car with tons of happy fans literally pushing the car from side to side, almost causing a concussion among us! We simply giggled merrily away! We were united as one that day because of our support for Germany. It was an incredible first for me.
In the Germany-Argentina match, the heart almost stood still when both teams went into penalty shoot out. The hands were clammy and the breathing shallow. We were in a sport hall with hundreds of fans. The silence in the hall was deafening. That changed minutes later when Germany won. The hall erupted into loud triumphant cheers and I was jumping up and down in joy, hugging the man and the friends. We were all sooo thrilled!!!! 'Is Germany unbeatable?', we couldn't help questioning ourselves silently that day.
But as Italy sealed our defeat with a second goal in the semi-final, the sheer disppointment was ringing loud and clear in our ears. Tears were shed. Including mine. The dull heartache returned. Once again for days, I couldn't get over the loss.
Well, that's football...
The heart hasn't been throbbing too much during this World Cup. Yet. In a few days, Germany and Argentina will meet again for a face off. I will be holding my breath.
I can't recall from my sketchy memory when I began watching football. But growing up with the many uncles around me must have effected that influence on the then impressionable young me. While other girls were playing dressing up with their dolls, I was out dribbling football with the uncles. This skinny tanned little niece was undoubtly quite a tomboy in their eyes.
I do not usually follow the Premier League, La Liga, Serie A, or the Bundesliga but I certainly would not miss the World Cup.
The World Cup final in 1994 etched deeply in my memory. Like many Singaporeans, I was up in the wee hours to catch the match between Italy and Brazil. The game was scoreless through extra time. During the penalty shoot out, my fave footballer, Roberto Baggio, alas missed the final penalty kick which made Brazil the winner that year.
As Baggio hung his head with Brazil celebrating behind him, a dull heartache got hold of me and I laid sleepless that night. I couldn't get over the loss for days. It was as if I got dumped by a boyfriend!
I wondered then, 'How does one live with that?' He answered that in his autobiography years later, '...it affected me for years. It's the worst moment of my career. I still dream about it. If I could erase a moment from my career, it would be that one.'
Well, that's football...
4 years ago, I was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time when Germany hosted the World Cup. Though it was just the tiny Stuttgart city, the vibes were electrifying! A huge screen was erected in the park. German fans turned up in full force to support their country in one of the matches. Basking in the cheerful sunny weather with beer in our hands, the mood was a relax one. And when Germany won that match, all hell broke loose! Fans lined and blocked the streets singing, dancing and chanting, 'Berlin, Berlin, wir fahren nach Berlin!' The festive mood was absolutely infectious. No matter we were stuck in the car with tons of happy fans literally pushing the car from side to side, almost causing a concussion among us! We simply giggled merrily away! We were united as one that day because of our support for Germany. It was an incredible first for me.
In the Germany-Argentina match, the heart almost stood still when both teams went into penalty shoot out. The hands were clammy and the breathing shallow. We were in a sport hall with hundreds of fans. The silence in the hall was deafening. That changed minutes later when Germany won. The hall erupted into loud triumphant cheers and I was jumping up and down in joy, hugging the man and the friends. We were all sooo thrilled!!!! 'Is Germany unbeatable?', we couldn't help questioning ourselves silently that day.
But as Italy sealed our defeat with a second goal in the semi-final, the sheer disppointment was ringing loud and clear in our ears. Tears were shed. Including mine. The dull heartache returned. Once again for days, I couldn't get over the loss.
Well, that's football...
The heart hasn't been throbbing too much during this World Cup. Yet. In a few days, Germany and Argentina will meet again for a face off. I will be holding my breath.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Maiden Attempt
Seeing that the present will not be in time for the man's birthday and loathing to have him empty-handed (at least from me) on his special day, I resolved to *surprise surprise* bake him a cake.
I came across a simple butter cake recipe one day and thought it's high time to challenge myself in this unfamiliar territory.
The first undertaking wasn't without its hiccups though. Despite the bright and clear weather, the dark force lingered on.
Lazy to dig out the proper stand mixer the in-laws got me, I made-do with a handheld mixer. Not a very brilliant idea. First, I used the wrong whisks and within seconds, chucks of butter stuck onto them. The whisks refused to move thereafter, no matter how much I persisted on. With a sigh, I reluctantly changed the whisks to another pair of whips.
Was happily creaming the butter and sugar when I noticed wisps of smoke churning out from somewhere. I told myself it must be from the pre-heated oven. I was in denial and I was just too lazy.
The whirl of smoke became too intense to ignore that I had to finally concede the smoke came from the rubbish mixer which I had used less than 5 times.
Resigned, I hastened to dig out the other mixer from its forgotten dusty corner. The cake must be done before the man comes home!!!
The rest was uneventful until the baking pan was in the oven. 30 mins later when I stole a peep at the cake, I was greeted with a burnt-crust-cake. The pan was too near to the top of the oven! *groan* I am so anal!!!
Oh, did I mention the man was absolutely delighted that I finally baked him a cake?! :D
I came across a simple butter cake recipe one day and thought it's high time to challenge myself in this unfamiliar territory.
The first undertaking wasn't without its hiccups though. Despite the bright and clear weather, the dark force lingered on.
Lazy to dig out the proper stand mixer the in-laws got me, I made-do with a handheld mixer. Not a very brilliant idea. First, I used the wrong whisks and within seconds, chucks of butter stuck onto them. The whisks refused to move thereafter, no matter how much I persisted on. With a sigh, I reluctantly changed the whisks to another pair of whips.
Was happily creaming the butter and sugar when I noticed wisps of smoke churning out from somewhere. I told myself it must be from the pre-heated oven. I was in denial and I was just too lazy.
The whirl of smoke became too intense to ignore that I had to finally concede the smoke came from the rubbish mixer which I had used less than 5 times.
Resigned, I hastened to dig out the other mixer from its forgotten dusty corner. The cake must be done before the man comes home!!!
The rest was uneventful until the baking pan was in the oven. 30 mins later when I stole a peep at the cake, I was greeted with a burnt-crust-cake. The pan was too near to the top of the oven! *groan* I am so anal!!!
But. It was not a total lost cause.
At long last we got to cut the cake. I must say I wasn't disappointed at all by its warm golden hue. And I was especially happy when our teeth sank into its moist softness, buttery goodness and heavenly richness.
I heart my cake!
Oh, did I mention the man was absolutely delighted that I finally baked him a cake?! :DFriday, June 18, 2010
Fear and Technology
Geroge Falconer in A Single Man:
Let's just talk about fear.
Fear, after all, is our real enemy.
Fear is taking over our world.
Fear is being used as a tool of manipulation in our society.
It's how politicians peddle policy and how Madison Avenue sells us things that we don't need.
Think about it.
Fear that we're going to be attacked, fear that there are communists lurking around every corner, fear that some little Caribbean country that doesn't believe in our way of life poses a threat to us.
Fear that black culture may take over the world.
Fear of Elvis Presley's hips. Well, maybe that one is a real fear.
Fear that our bad breath might ruin our friendships.
Fear of growing old and being alone.
Fear that we're useless and that no one cares what we have to say.
I was quite moved by the sudden outburst during his lecture in the movie and I especially like the last line.
Is that why these days everyone is racing to blog, tweet, post updates, photos, comments on social networking sites like Facebook so that people can hear us, so that they are aware of how intellectual/popular/cool/beautiful/talented/creative we are, so that they are impressed with us, so that we will not be easily forgotten, so that we will never become a yesterday has-been?
Is that why our 'voices' are getting louder? Our photos flashier and our behaviour an outrageous flaunt to boost our self-esteem?
Is that why documenting every single detail and event in our lives has become our utmost priority and obsession?
Oh dear, we are no strangers to fear but now we have fallen prey to technology as well.
Let's just talk about fear.
Fear, after all, is our real enemy.
Fear is taking over our world.
Fear is being used as a tool of manipulation in our society.
It's how politicians peddle policy and how Madison Avenue sells us things that we don't need.
Think about it.
Fear that we're going to be attacked, fear that there are communists lurking around every corner, fear that some little Caribbean country that doesn't believe in our way of life poses a threat to us.
Fear that black culture may take over the world.
Fear of Elvis Presley's hips. Well, maybe that one is a real fear.
Fear that our bad breath might ruin our friendships.
Fear of growing old and being alone.
Fear that we're useless and that no one cares what we have to say.
I was quite moved by the sudden outburst during his lecture in the movie and I especially like the last line.
Is that why these days everyone is racing to blog, tweet, post updates, photos, comments on social networking sites like Facebook so that people can hear us, so that they are aware of how intellectual/popular/cool/beautiful/talented/creative we are, so that they are impressed with us, so that we will not be easily forgotten, so that we will never become a yesterday has-been?
Is that why our 'voices' are getting louder? Our photos flashier and our behaviour an outrageous flaunt to boost our self-esteem?
Is that why documenting every single detail and event in our lives has become our utmost priority and obsession?
Oh dear, we are no strangers to fear but now we have fallen prey to technology as well.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
I am whining, not!
I am turning into an Oma (granny). Whose robustness is dwindling with the fast-growing and heavy bump.
After breakfast one morning, I went for my routine swim. Followed by a quick bit of grocery shopping before I hurried home to appease my rumbling stomach. Gobbled up the leftover Gong Bao Ji Ding (宫保鸡丁) and rice from the night before and off I went to the gynecologist (who is a 10min-walk away) to collect some medical papers. Thereafter, I walked to the bank for a spot of banking.
By the time I reached home, the breathing was fast and the panting furious. I was desperate for a seat and a chilled drink. Sitting on the gym ball immediately eased the heavy burden on the back.
With no air-conditioning and fan in the pad, the sudden temperature spike obviously didn't help matters. The heat resulted in a sluggishness and a loss of appetite which even the glutton monster had grudgingly succumbed to. Cooking a warm meal was unthinkable. A refreshing salad was thus in order. Accompanied by my very first German rye bread in 4 years and slabs of sea salt butter.
The palate was teased and pleased. The stomach, however, protested hours later.
The now-familiar burning sensation in the chest and throat woke me up in the wee hours. Thinking it was another mild case of acid reflux, I went on to sit upright on the couch and watch some TV. The heartburn would usually ease up after half an hour or so.
Back in bed, I let out an involuntary loud burp and then a surprise wave of nausea washed over me, acid coming up to the throat.
I scrambled for the basin and the stomach juice wasted no time in gushing out from the throat. Imagine the force and the urgency of the gush because not just the pharynx, the nose too was burning from the acidity. The outpouring lasted for many minutes.
When I dragged myself back to bed, the tummy was bloated with gas and the burning throat choke-full with phlegm. Slumber land seemed so far away....
The next day the body was still reeling from the aftermath.
Now. What with the strains of being preggers and all, I can shamelessly justify the not-so-cheap leather diaper bag which I have recently ordered. Any excuse to buy a bag! *grin*
Footnote: 34 weeks and 17kg heavier. Prefer to stay home now due to the heaviness and the heat. Puffy hands and ankles returned. A sense of anticipation and increasing fear of labour.
After breakfast one morning, I went for my routine swim. Followed by a quick bit of grocery shopping before I hurried home to appease my rumbling stomach. Gobbled up the leftover Gong Bao Ji Ding (宫保鸡丁) and rice from the night before and off I went to the gynecologist (who is a 10min-walk away) to collect some medical papers. Thereafter, I walked to the bank for a spot of banking.
By the time I reached home, the breathing was fast and the panting furious. I was desperate for a seat and a chilled drink. Sitting on the gym ball immediately eased the heavy burden on the back.
With no air-conditioning and fan in the pad, the sudden temperature spike obviously didn't help matters. The heat resulted in a sluggishness and a loss of appetite which even the glutton monster had grudgingly succumbed to. Cooking a warm meal was unthinkable. A refreshing salad was thus in order. Accompanied by my very first German rye bread in 4 years and slabs of sea salt butter.
The palate was teased and pleased. The stomach, however, protested hours later.
The now-familiar burning sensation in the chest and throat woke me up in the wee hours. Thinking it was another mild case of acid reflux, I went on to sit upright on the couch and watch some TV. The heartburn would usually ease up after half an hour or so.
Back in bed, I let out an involuntary loud burp and then a surprise wave of nausea washed over me, acid coming up to the throat.
I scrambled for the basin and the stomach juice wasted no time in gushing out from the throat. Imagine the force and the urgency of the gush because not just the pharynx, the nose too was burning from the acidity. The outpouring lasted for many minutes.
When I dragged myself back to bed, the tummy was bloated with gas and the burning throat choke-full with phlegm. Slumber land seemed so far away....
The next day the body was still reeling from the aftermath.
Now. What with the strains of being preggers and all, I can shamelessly justify the not-so-cheap leather diaper bag which I have recently ordered. Any excuse to buy a bag! *grin*
Footnote: 34 weeks and 17kg heavier. Prefer to stay home now due to the heaviness and the heat. Puffy hands and ankles returned. A sense of anticipation and increasing fear of labour.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
My Poison - Datura
Each time I listen to this number, I want to learn playing the piano, to be tripping on the said herbs mentioned in the text and allow my whole self to be transported to this place of mesmerizing piano-y trance induced by the song.
Simply intoxicating.
Simply intoxicating.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
True and genuine
Yesterday at the man's cousin's to collect some hand-me-downs, her difficult 9-year-old daughter revealed her caring and endearing side which pleasantly surprised me.
Me: L, where is the toilet?
L, looked at me with concern in her eyes: Do you need to throw up?
We've been standing in the cellar for sometime, taking our pick.
L: Are you tired? Would you like to go up and lie down for abit?
Later, L: Would you like to sit down?
And then: Do you want to have a drink?
Best of all: What kind of labour would you be having? Normal or water labour?
(Eh, how does a 9-year-old know about such things?! *chuckle*)
Anyhow, she's so endearingly charming that I couldn't stop beaming fondly at her all evening.
Which reminds me of my dearest 11-year-old nephew who though isn't as attentive (he is a boy!) displayed his loving side as well.
We were boarding the train during rush hour one day. He swiftly squeezed his small body through the scores of humans and scouted for a seat. When he couldn't find one, he exclaimed loudly,' Aiyah, 姑姑 (Aunt), no more seats!', in the hope that someone would give up their seat for me. Well, no such luck!
Later someone got up and in his sudden excitement, he forgot himself and shouted, '姑姑, quick! There is a seat!'
People looked but I was too busy being pleased with his thoughfulness to be bothered with them. I was of course all smiles during the rest of the journey.
Oh kids! What would we do without them?!
Me: L, where is the toilet?
L, looked at me with concern in her eyes: Do you need to throw up?
We've been standing in the cellar for sometime, taking our pick.
L: Are you tired? Would you like to go up and lie down for abit?
Later, L: Would you like to sit down?
And then: Do you want to have a drink?
Best of all: What kind of labour would you be having? Normal or water labour?
(Eh, how does a 9-year-old know about such things?! *chuckle*)
Anyhow, she's so endearingly charming that I couldn't stop beaming fondly at her all evening.
Which reminds me of my dearest 11-year-old nephew who though isn't as attentive (he is a boy!) displayed his loving side as well.
We were boarding the train during rush hour one day. He swiftly squeezed his small body through the scores of humans and scouted for a seat. When he couldn't find one, he exclaimed loudly,' Aiyah, 姑姑 (Aunt), no more seats!', in the hope that someone would give up their seat for me. Well, no such luck!
Later someone got up and in his sudden excitement, he forgot himself and shouted, '姑姑, quick! There is a seat!'
People looked but I was too busy being pleased with his thoughfulness to be bothered with them. I was of course all smiles during the rest of the journey.
Oh kids! What would we do without them?!
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Weight woes?!
What have I been up to lately? Busy cooking, whatelse! Seeing no end in the bottomless pit in the stomach, one is safe to say home-cooked meal is the best bet in providing wholesome and nourishing food. The chomp which the man and I particularly relished recently:
Mee Pok dry with Char Siew and Roast Pork
Mee Pok dry with Char Siew and Roast Pork 
Hor Fun with green pickled chilli
The homemade chilli is now an absolute indispensable item in the kitchen! Single-handedly, this humble condiment completes the whole street food eating experience. And so yes, ladies and gentlemen, my Hor Fun tasted authentic enough!!! *huge grin*
'Enough of eating!' my doc however seems to imply during my last checkup because she reckons I have piled on too much weight. Well, I obstinately disagree and think she is sprouting nonsense. Simply because lately I haven't been stuffing my face as much as I did in the last months. I eat healthily and I stay active by swimming at least 3 times a week. I don't even snack on chips or junk food anymore. My only weakness now is ice-cream which I indulge in moderation and yoghurt. Since I do not see any problem with my diet, I won't hasten to change my present eating habit.
But as if to prove me otherwise, today in the changing cabin at the swimming pool, the bench I was sitting on was mocking me out loud with its creaking and squeaking in its struggle to not buckle under my weight.
Oh well, perhaps I am in denial.
Still. I will not let us starve.
Footnote: 30 weeks and 14kg heavier. Itchy skin has led to unsightly marks caused by uncontrollable scratching. Puking has eased up but not the queasiness. Maybe experiencing false contractions. Prenatal class has started.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
A labour of love
Those books and articles on the labour and delivery process are so enlightening that instead of allaying my fears, the jitters now have their tight grip firmly on my shoulders. You see, cases of a fast and smooth delivery seem far and few these days. Many hours of painful labour appears to rule the day now. And if the Greater Being up there were to decide that the pangs of childbirth weren't enough, he might along the way prescribe some complications to warrant a caesarean or a full operation.
Isn't that great news for a first-time pregger?
But not all hope is lost. By staying active does help in a smooth birth apparently. It appears that walking, yoga, swimming are beneficial for us preggers. Walking however acts up my backache and the one and only maternity yoga class in this ulu place is fully booked, whatelse! Thus, I am left with my favourite sport, swimming!
In spite of the constant fight with the sloth monster and with the fear of endless labour pain lurking at the back of my head, I finally succeeded in dragging my big ass literally off the couch to pack for the swim. Well, it's not like staying with the bestie where I can simply put on the bikini (yes, I can still manage to squeeeeze myself into the two-piece) and throw on a tee and shorts and I am ready to go.
So. Bag packed. Destination reached.
Once in the pool, I took to the water like a fish. It was a good swim albeit having to scurry to the loo every so often. The best part is I felt weightless in the water and my back didn't hurt at all. Overheating and shortness of breath evaporated into thin air.
However, being cautious to not overexert myself, I limited the workout to 45mins and called it a day thereafter.
When stepping out of the water (trying at the same time to do a Ursula Andress but failed miserably of course) to retrieve my towel, I noticed 2 young boys next to me giggling. I turned towards them just in time to hear them whispered, 'Look at her tummy!!!' Well, kids can never master the art of whispering, can they?
That's also when I realised they had no idea about my pregnant state and thought I was just fat!! How cute!
Frankly, seeing other pregger ladies hanging out at the pool in their bikini and some with kids in tow, I admit I am now less conscious about baring my pregger self in public pool. Hence, in order to avoid an arduous labour, I better take pains now to remain active and not succumb to the temptation of The Sloth.
Footnote: 27 weeks and 12kg heavier. Most clothes are too snug now. No more power-puffy ankles though itchy skin is not letting up.
Isn't that great news for a first-time pregger?
But not all hope is lost. By staying active does help in a smooth birth apparently. It appears that walking, yoga, swimming are beneficial for us preggers. Walking however acts up my backache and the one and only maternity yoga class in this ulu place is fully booked, whatelse! Thus, I am left with my favourite sport, swimming!
In spite of the constant fight with the sloth monster and with the fear of endless labour pain lurking at the back of my head, I finally succeeded in dragging my big ass literally off the couch to pack for the swim. Well, it's not like staying with the bestie where I can simply put on the bikini (yes, I can still manage to squeeeeze myself into the two-piece) and throw on a tee and shorts and I am ready to go.
So. Bag packed. Destination reached.
Once in the pool, I took to the water like a fish. It was a good swim albeit having to scurry to the loo every so often. The best part is I felt weightless in the water and my back didn't hurt at all. Overheating and shortness of breath evaporated into thin air.
However, being cautious to not overexert myself, I limited the workout to 45mins and called it a day thereafter.
When stepping out of the water (trying at the same time to do a Ursula Andress but failed miserably of course) to retrieve my towel, I noticed 2 young boys next to me giggling. I turned towards them just in time to hear them whispered, 'Look at her tummy!!!' Well, kids can never master the art of whispering, can they?
That's also when I realised they had no idea about my pregnant state and thought I was just fat!! How cute!
Frankly, seeing other pregger ladies hanging out at the pool in their bikini and some with kids in tow, I admit I am now less conscious about baring my pregger self in public pool. Hence, in order to avoid an arduous labour, I better take pains now to remain active and not succumb to the temptation of The Sloth.
Footnote: 27 weeks and 12kg heavier. Most clothes are too snug now. No more power-puffy ankles though itchy skin is not letting up.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
No waist, no ankle and no neck soon?
The slender ankles were vanishing quickly after touching down in sizzling Singapore and the local food laden with sodium, MSG and whatnots certainly sped up the rate of disappearing act.
The bestie and the Lion stared fixedly at my power-puffy ankles and broke into laughter. I chuckled along. The feet were all inflated like a puffer fish and trust me, it's not a pretty sight but totally hilarious. Fitting into that pair of ballerina I brought along was out of question now.
And then the Lion observed: 'Each time I see you, you are always eating!!!'
Me: I can't help it. I am always hungry!!!'
She and the bestie were quite astounded by my bottomless stomach capacity.
Most articles I read advise against pregger ladies to eat for two. Instead they should only add about 300 calories more to their diet each day.
I am not sure about other pregger ladies but the hunger pangs are like my sidekick these days. They are always hovering around and no matter how much I stuff my face to chase them away, they would come back haunting me again in less than a couple of hours. Regardless if it's in the middle of the night.
And of course being back in Singapore means all hell just broke loose. There's no stopping me from launching an offensive on those resplendent food I've been craving since months.
Hence, the Lion's comment that I have now no waist, no ankle and soon no neck too? LOL!!
The weight I have piled on escaped no one of course. Some expressed silent shock on their face while others (usually those who were once pregnant) commented on how great I look.
After the uneasy first trimester where I was struggling to cope with the awful morning sickness, constant throwing up, curious cravings and aversions of food plus changes to the body, now in my 6th month, I've learned to embrace and live with these changes and the demands made on my body.
The friends' harmless teasings I take them in stride. Because being pregger means I have the privileges and the perfect excuse to incessant eating, to weight gain, to walk slower (due to backache and shortness of breath), to rest more often, to special requests like asking for a whole row of 3 seats to myself on the plane etc., all without having to feel apologetic or guilty about it.
I felt loved and blessed basking in the friends' and family's indulgence and attention and now in the man's pampering such as cutting fruits for me every evening, doing most housechores, rubbing my tummy and being more patient towards my needs.
Now all I need to do is sit back and relax and enjoy the kickings and the somersaults in my belly.
The hunger pangs return. Nasi lemak and ayam goreng await.
The bestie and the Lion stared fixedly at my power-puffy ankles and broke into laughter. I chuckled along. The feet were all inflated like a puffer fish and trust me, it's not a pretty sight but totally hilarious. Fitting into that pair of ballerina I brought along was out of question now.
And then the Lion observed: 'Each time I see you, you are always eating!!!'
Me: I can't help it. I am always hungry!!!'
She and the bestie were quite astounded by my bottomless stomach capacity.
Most articles I read advise against pregger ladies to eat for two. Instead they should only add about 300 calories more to their diet each day.
I am not sure about other pregger ladies but the hunger pangs are like my sidekick these days. They are always hovering around and no matter how much I stuff my face to chase them away, they would come back haunting me again in less than a couple of hours. Regardless if it's in the middle of the night.
And of course being back in Singapore means all hell just broke loose. There's no stopping me from launching an offensive on those resplendent food I've been craving since months.
Hence, the Lion's comment that I have now no waist, no ankle and soon no neck too? LOL!!
The weight I have piled on escaped no one of course. Some expressed silent shock on their face while others (usually those who were once pregnant) commented on how great I look.
After the uneasy first trimester where I was struggling to cope with the awful morning sickness, constant throwing up, curious cravings and aversions of food plus changes to the body, now in my 6th month, I've learned to embrace and live with these changes and the demands made on my body.
The friends' harmless teasings I take them in stride. Because being pregger means I have the privileges and the perfect excuse to incessant eating, to weight gain, to walk slower (due to backache and shortness of breath), to rest more often, to special requests like asking for a whole row of 3 seats to myself on the plane etc., all without having to feel apologetic or guilty about it.
I felt loved and blessed basking in the friends' and family's indulgence and attention and now in the man's pampering such as cutting fruits for me every evening, doing most housechores, rubbing my tummy and being more patient towards my needs.
Now all I need to do is sit back and relax and enjoy the kickings and the somersaults in my belly.
The hunger pangs return. Nasi lemak and ayam goreng await.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Chicken soup for the soul
I am bored. Of the endless colourless and uninspiring music issuing from the googlebox and the tuner everyday. The djs either have no clue of other music genres or they are just belting out tunes which they think appeal to the masses. Well, I am not the masses and I am not feeling the music. It is like a glass of plain water, flat and tasteless. It does not excite nor move me. My soul is suddenly in famine land.
Determined to not concede defeat to the gratifications of mass commercialization, below is my very own chicken soup for the day:
1. She is the new thing - The Horrors (The video is wicked!)
2. Fire - Kasabian
3. Florescent Adolescence - Arctic Monkeys
4. Crystalized - The XX
5. Where did all the love go - Kasabian
6. Someday - The Strokes
7. Teddy Picker - Arctic Monkeys
8. Maps - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
9. Soma - The Strokes
10. Butcher Blues - Kasabian
11. Whole new way - The Horrors
12. Y-Control - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
13. Song for Aberdeen - Mando Diao
14. Vlad the Impaler - Kasabian
And yes, Kasabian is definitely my favourite flavour on the menu card!
Determined to not concede defeat to the gratifications of mass commercialization, below is my very own chicken soup for the day:
1. She is the new thing - The Horrors (The video is wicked!)
2. Fire - Kasabian
3. Florescent Adolescence - Arctic Monkeys
4. Crystalized - The XX
5. Where did all the love go - Kasabian
6. Someday - The Strokes
7. Teddy Picker - Arctic Monkeys
8. Maps - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
9. Soma - The Strokes
10. Butcher Blues - Kasabian
11. Whole new way - The Horrors
12. Y-Control - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
13. Song for Aberdeen - Mando Diao
14. Vlad the Impaler - Kasabian
And yes, Kasabian is definitely my favourite flavour on the menu card!
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Childhood taste memory
When we were little, weekly visits to Grandma's were nothing unusual. I suspect my mum has never gotten used to staying away from her family for too long after her marriage. Being the eldest daughter, the burden of assisting my Grandma in taking care of the large brood naturally fell on her young shoulders. That explains the tightly-knit bond she has with her folks.
So each Saturday morning we would be dragged out of our warm bed for the habitual visit. In the old Kampung Geylang.
The one thing I wasn't hot about these visits was having to face my fear: the large black dog, deliriously welcoming us at the entrance by almost barking its head off.
Each time after gingerly walking past my psychological hurdle, I would gleefully await Grandma's return from the wet market with my favourite brekkie.
Yong Tau Foo!!!
Drenched in red sweet sauce and chilli sauce, Grandma would lovingly cut them up into small pieces and feed me while I sat on her lap. My little mouth would be working the food while the taste receptor cells sent data to the brain for permanent memory retention.
It is no wonder I still love Yong Tau Foo so much after all these years.
Till this day, the palate can never forget the medley of distinctive flavours of those unadorned Yong Tau Foo which Grandma bought.
Sure, other Yong Tau Foos which we have tasted so far are good but I doubt they can ever match up to the childhood taste memory.
Replicating the dish here is simply not the same. The broth with the essence wanting and the recipes for sweet sauce and chilli sauce lacking.
Bun in the oven. Raging hormones. Crazy food cravings.
Oh, I am homesick and I want my Yong Tau Foo!
So each Saturday morning we would be dragged out of our warm bed for the habitual visit. In the old Kampung Geylang.
The one thing I wasn't hot about these visits was having to face my fear: the large black dog, deliriously welcoming us at the entrance by almost barking its head off.
Each time after gingerly walking past my psychological hurdle, I would gleefully await Grandma's return from the wet market with my favourite brekkie.
Yong Tau Foo!!!
Drenched in red sweet sauce and chilli sauce, Grandma would lovingly cut them up into small pieces and feed me while I sat on her lap. My little mouth would be working the food while the taste receptor cells sent data to the brain for permanent memory retention.
It is no wonder I still love Yong Tau Foo so much after all these years.
Till this day, the palate can never forget the medley of distinctive flavours of those unadorned Yong Tau Foo which Grandma bought.
Sure, other Yong Tau Foos which we have tasted so far are good but I doubt they can ever match up to the childhood taste memory.
Replicating the dish here is simply not the same. The broth with the essence wanting and the recipes for sweet sauce and chilli sauce lacking.
Bun in the oven. Raging hormones. Crazy food cravings.
Oh, I am homesick and I want my Yong Tau Foo!
Friday, February 26, 2010
Hacked by virus
Winter. Coming out and play is in order, decided the viruses.
Deep winter. The mischievous viruses knowing no more boundaries, reared their ugly green heads and wrecked havoc on their defenceless quarries.
Vulnerable victims such as the Hoonie was warned by the well-meaning friend of the looming danger at the recent get-together. Alas, lured by the dark force disguised in the black cloak of gluttony, the Hoonie turned up at the party against her better judgement.
Immediately, the virus closed in on its unsuspecting prey. The very same moment, Hoonie was shrouded in the warmth and affection from the friends.
No trace of regrets later even when the indication of the infection manifested. Except for having to postpone a dinner.
The dinner was scheduled weeks before and must be put-off again to the great disappointment of the partners in binging.
How not to when samgyeopsal gui (Korean grilled pork belly) was supposed to be the feature of the day? SIGH...
But better to be safe than to knowingly let more victims fall prey to the dark side.
P.S. And a diet of bland porridge for days has its devastating effect: the craving of a bucket of KFC.
Deep winter. The mischievous viruses knowing no more boundaries, reared their ugly green heads and wrecked havoc on their defenceless quarries.
Vulnerable victims such as the Hoonie was warned by the well-meaning friend of the looming danger at the recent get-together. Alas, lured by the dark force disguised in the black cloak of gluttony, the Hoonie turned up at the party against her better judgement.
Immediately, the virus closed in on its unsuspecting prey. The very same moment, Hoonie was shrouded in the warmth and affection from the friends.
No trace of regrets later even when the indication of the infection manifested. Except for having to postpone a dinner.
The dinner was scheduled weeks before and must be put-off again to the great disappointment of the partners in binging.
How not to when samgyeopsal gui (Korean grilled pork belly) was supposed to be the feature of the day? SIGH...
But better to be safe than to knowingly let more victims fall prey to the dark side.
P.S. And a diet of bland porridge for days has its devastating effect: the craving of a bucket of KFC.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Horse scent
The bestie secretly stashed my birthday present among the packs of Prima Taste. The gift was disguised in a Body Shop bottle. How naughty!
I was so thrilled to discover it's my favourite shampoo. But this is no ordinary shampoo okay. This is a shampoo made from horse oil.
When the bestie was at an onsen during her Japan trip, she chanced upon this hair product, fell in love and bought it despite its hefty price-tag for a shampoo.
She then very sweetly gave me some to sample. There's no looking back. It was love at first sight. Naturally, I've been raving about it ever since.
Apparently, horse oil is a popular ingredient in the Japanese folk remedy for hundred of years. Due to its strong moisturizing properties, it is also used in beauty products to treat dry hair or skin.
After a week of using the shampoo, the texture of my hair is indeed softer to touch. And there seems to have a shine to it too. Or was it the light reflecting??
But what really wooed me was its scent. I cannot put my finger on what fragrance it actually is. Could it be lavender? I really can't tell. Its sweet gentle scent soothes me each time I catch a whiff of it from my hair. I love it that the perfume lingers all day long. It clings to the clothes and to the pillow case. I am now hooked. If I can help it, I avoid using hair products or perfume to not mask the scent.
With our lives now taking a new direction, I guess a calming agent such as this to hush my fears and worries (not forgetting the joy and excitement) is in order. Obviously, the bestie shares my sentiment too.
So months ago, she quietly got my poison through her colleague who went to Japan. Ain't she thoughtful?
I was so thrilled to discover it's my favourite shampoo. But this is no ordinary shampoo okay. This is a shampoo made from horse oil.
When the bestie was at an onsen during her Japan trip, she chanced upon this hair product, fell in love and bought it despite its hefty price-tag for a shampoo.
She then very sweetly gave me some to sample. There's no looking back. It was love at first sight. Naturally, I've been raving about it ever since.
Apparently, horse oil is a popular ingredient in the Japanese folk remedy for hundred of years. Due to its strong moisturizing properties, it is also used in beauty products to treat dry hair or skin.
After a week of using the shampoo, the texture of my hair is indeed softer to touch. And there seems to have a shine to it too. Or was it the light reflecting??
But what really wooed me was its scent. I cannot put my finger on what fragrance it actually is. Could it be lavender? I really can't tell. Its sweet gentle scent soothes me each time I catch a whiff of it from my hair. I love it that the perfume lingers all day long. It clings to the clothes and to the pillow case. I am now hooked. If I can help it, I avoid using hair products or perfume to not mask the scent.
With our lives now taking a new direction, I guess a calming agent such as this to hush my fears and worries (not forgetting the joy and excitement) is in order. Obviously, the bestie shares my sentiment too.
So months ago, she quietly got my poison through her colleague who went to Japan. Ain't she thoughtful?
Monday, January 25, 2010
I can't remember....
We were about to roll out with our overstuffed bellies after a steamboat dinner when I told S just how forgettable I have recently become. Realising the mistake, I corrected myself, 'No, I mean unforgettable.
I only recalled my boo-boo much later. Oh dear! I can't even remember the word to explain my absent-mindedness. Need I say more?
The poor girl must have thought I was speaking in tongues. No wonder she was quite silent while I fumbled for the right word in my scatterbrained trance.
How embarrassing!
I only recalled my boo-boo much later. Oh dear! I can't even remember the word to explain my absent-mindedness. Need I say more?
The poor girl must have thought I was speaking in tongues. No wonder she was quite silent while I fumbled for the right word in my scatterbrained trance.
How embarrassing!
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
The Immaculate Collection
Our mini fridge doesn't come with a freezer. Due to space constraint, the basement is where the separate freezer currently resides. Thus one would see me running to the basement at any time of the day or night getting those frozen whatnots. In my frumpy, colour-faded homewear and glasses with matching unkempt hair no less.
And yes, that means I would always be literally running back to the pad as I have no wish of bumping into the neighbours in the alluring ensemble.
But I am not always lucky.
Talking about the neighbours. Either they have the most stylish loungewear to be worn at home, not unlike those you saw in Desperate Housewives, or they are diligent enough to make pretty every single day once they are out of the bed. Because I have never once seen them with a hair out of place or a bare face. No matter at which time of the day or night. Such arduous labour is indeed admirable.
But I am not alone. I found another pea in the pod:
And yes, that means I would always be literally running back to the pad as I have no wish of bumping into the neighbours in the alluring ensemble.
But I am not always lucky.
Talking about the neighbours. Either they have the most stylish loungewear to be worn at home, not unlike those you saw in Desperate Housewives, or they are diligent enough to make pretty every single day once they are out of the bed. Because I have never once seen them with a hair out of place or a bare face. No matter at which time of the day or night. Such arduous labour is indeed admirable.
But I am not alone. I found another pea in the pod:
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Torn between a durian and rambutan
I recently developed a habit which I find most insufferable. Reading a book halfway and for some reasons not able to finish it. I could not fathom the rationale behind it because back in Singapore I never had that problem.
Okay, maybe once.
I attempted Peter Carey's Oscar and Lucinda but I guess I was probably too young and too ignorant, not to mention too impatient to fight my way through the long thick book that I gave up eventually. Till today, I still wonder about the plot and the characters development. I kick myself for not sticking it out till the end and be rewarded by its (as claimed by many) beautiful literacy style. Like how I did with Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie.
I might have grumbled to the friends just how long-winded Rushdie can be that it takes pages before he reaches a point and not forgetting his weighty political talk. Midnight's Children remains however an extraordinary piece of work because Rushdie is without a doubt a literary master. His wittiness and intellect and his knack for an array of puns, wordplay and rhyme is dazzling. His cleverly crafted lines left me mesmerized and yearning for more.
Naturally after such a masterpiece, it is almost impossible to find another book of the same caliber. Not that the current book, Absolute Friends by John LeCarre, is mediocre. While it is rather engaging, it lacks Rushdie's Midas touch of witty wordplay which I often devoured with relish. Sure, the comparison is unfair to LeCarre. But it's like having to choose between a durian and rambutan, the choice is very obvious. The durian, the king of fruits it is of course.
Hence, I am currently stuck. I am itching to get another Rushdie's book to quench my literary thrist. And many other books on my list as well.
But to avoid history repeating itself, I have to repress that temptation for now and bloody finish my current book first!
On second thought, having the humble rambutan once in a while is not such a bad idea at all.
Okay, maybe once.
I attempted Peter Carey's Oscar and Lucinda but I guess I was probably too young and too ignorant, not to mention too impatient to fight my way through the long thick book that I gave up eventually. Till today, I still wonder about the plot and the characters development. I kick myself for not sticking it out till the end and be rewarded by its (as claimed by many) beautiful literacy style. Like how I did with Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie.
I might have grumbled to the friends just how long-winded Rushdie can be that it takes pages before he reaches a point and not forgetting his weighty political talk. Midnight's Children remains however an extraordinary piece of work because Rushdie is without a doubt a literary master. His wittiness and intellect and his knack for an array of puns, wordplay and rhyme is dazzling. His cleverly crafted lines left me mesmerized and yearning for more.
Naturally after such a masterpiece, it is almost impossible to find another book of the same caliber. Not that the current book, Absolute Friends by John LeCarre, is mediocre. While it is rather engaging, it lacks Rushdie's Midas touch of witty wordplay which I often devoured with relish. Sure, the comparison is unfair to LeCarre. But it's like having to choose between a durian and rambutan, the choice is very obvious. The durian, the king of fruits it is of course.
Hence, I am currently stuck. I am itching to get another Rushdie's book to quench my literary thrist. And many other books on my list as well.
But to avoid history repeating itself, I have to repress that temptation for now and bloody finish my current book first!
On second thought, having the humble rambutan once in a while is not such a bad idea at all.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
A hazy shade of winter
I was hankering for a quick bite after merrymaking at the friend's on NYE. The dozens of scallops, pork fillet and whatnots earlier didn't help to curb those hunger pangs.
We decided to swing by Burger King to grab a burger. On our way there, we were hit by an unexpected heavy fog. The visibility was very very bad. We couldn't see a thing from the windscreen. NOTHING!!! NOTHING!!! NOTHING!!!
I was seriously freaking out. Terrible thought raced through my mind. What if we hit the curb? What if we hit some car in front of us? What if some idiot or some cat or dog dashed suddenly across the road?!
If it was me behind the steering wheel, I would have bloody stopped the car and gone into panic mode! On second thought, not such a great idea at all. A car coming from behind might have missed seeing us and banged into our car. Luckily for us, it was the man who was driving. He kept his cool and drove on very slowly. It also helped that the road was a long straight one.
In my fright, I failed to notice the faint white road markings which the man had been following. I breathed a little easier.
Eventually, we had to exit from the road and I cried out to the man, drive on and do not exit! My reason was the next road was full of curves and it's simply too dangerous to use that road in this condition. The man argued we would never get home if we did not exit then. Plus the fog might not be as heavy there.
Okay, what do I know? He should be more experienced than me in such situations. This is after all my first brush with the thick heavy fog.
Well, true to his words, the fog was not as dense on the next road. Phew! What a relief!
The rest of the journey was rather uneventful except we hit-and-run some remains of firecrackers on the road.
Wow, what an unforgettable way to start the new year, eh?
Once I stepped into the pad, my hunger pangs returned. Great.
We decided to swing by Burger King to grab a burger. On our way there, we were hit by an unexpected heavy fog. The visibility was very very bad. We couldn't see a thing from the windscreen. NOTHING!!! NOTHING!!! NOTHING!!!
I was seriously freaking out. Terrible thought raced through my mind. What if we hit the curb? What if we hit some car in front of us? What if some idiot or some cat or dog dashed suddenly across the road?!
If it was me behind the steering wheel, I would have bloody stopped the car and gone into panic mode! On second thought, not such a great idea at all. A car coming from behind might have missed seeing us and banged into our car. Luckily for us, it was the man who was driving. He kept his cool and drove on very slowly. It also helped that the road was a long straight one.
In my fright, I failed to notice the faint white road markings which the man had been following. I breathed a little easier.
Eventually, we had to exit from the road and I cried out to the man, drive on and do not exit! My reason was the next road was full of curves and it's simply too dangerous to use that road in this condition. The man argued we would never get home if we did not exit then. Plus the fog might not be as heavy there.
Okay, what do I know? He should be more experienced than me in such situations. This is after all my first brush with the thick heavy fog.
Well, true to his words, the fog was not as dense on the next road. Phew! What a relief!
The rest of the journey was rather uneventful except we hit-and-run some remains of firecrackers on the road.
Wow, what an unforgettable way to start the new year, eh?
Once I stepped into the pad, my hunger pangs returned. Great.
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