so aaanyway, if you don’t already know, it’s a new year and abang aniq is going to K1. that’s Kindergarten 1 to those of you who’ve never been to school skool. and since i’m turning two this year, mummy said i can go too. like, duh, finally! there initially wasn’t space for me in the toddler class, but i pushed a girl off the swing at the playground the other day and she got scared and told her mummy she was never going to school skool coz of mean girls like me, so then i got to take over her place, yey! [mummy's edit: no she absatively (absolutely+positively) did NOT push any girl off the swing, pls pardon little missy's over-imaginative mind from watching too much high school shows.]

and since boys are such, ugh, BOYS, i had to help abang aniq pack his bag…

make breakfast…

coz mummy was, of course, too busy putting on her boring work clothes and her going-out face. (have you SEEN her wake-up-from-bed face? pretty much worse than abang aniq here, WHO DIDN’T BATHE YUKKKS. but it’s ok coz he insists on bathing in school skool with his friends and he’s a BOY, they get away with their hair sticking out all over the place when they leave the house. thank gawd he brushes his teeth at the very least. boys are yukkks, ok?)

so then i walk him to school skool…

send him off to his new class… (ouuh, scary-looking aunty. K1 must be tough, like being in a concentration camp. a lot of concentrating going on there you know, spelling and counting and stuff.)

and wave bye-bye at his window…

sigh. he’s growing up so fast, my abang aniq. tsk.

just across his classroom is the toddler class, where i’m headed for. not that i’m TODDLING anymore, mind. i kinda… scuttle around. really fast. but i guess scuttler class doesn’t sound so fancy. so aaanyway, my teacher asked me to take off my shoes and put them in the shoe rack. mummy made me kiss her and daddy, and they said bye-bye.

i remember abang aniq always had a special place to keep his bag, and heyyy, so do i now. a cubby hole, i believe. so cute. just nice for my dora doll. and my bag of pull-ups.

there were SO many things going on in the next few hours, i kinda forgot about mummy until hmm, i think it was lunch time and i called for her coz *sheepish* i didn’t like people feeding me, BUT! i do like chicken, so i ate some of that, then just as i was asking for “shushuu!” (that’s milk for you non-toddler-speaking people), someone came to fetch me. saved by the bell! (well, ok, not literally, coz this isn’t like high school skool and they don’t have bells ringing and… well you know what i mean.)

and by the way, i may not know how to spell correctly right now, but… why do i keep getting these squiggly red lines under the word SKOOL?? ok, just wondering. bye-bye.

[mummy's edit: dropped by after work to ask how auni did in skool school and was given a thumbs up. discussed the programme, curriculum, familiar languages, food preferences, fetching arrangements. and guess i'll pack her "shushuu" tomorrow too. hell, i'm just thankful she's not a fusspot and for allowing her oma more time to herself in the day. here's to your growing independence, my babies.]

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while i get to wear wimpy tees with girly things like cupcakes…

he gets to wear COOL stuff with things like spiders. i love spiders! i mean, i pretend i’m scared of it by patting my chest when mummy sings that ‘little miss muffet’ song or the ‘itsy bitsy spider’. i’m not really scared, of course. just that she gets a kick out of seeing me do things like that, so i do it for her sake. i’ve never even seen a real spider. bet i could crush it like a cockroach. which i’ve never really seen either, actuallly… but that’s besides the point.

the point is, *i* should be the one wearing a spiderman-inspired outfit. coz if anything, climbing is like my FAVOURITE thing, like EVUH. can’t you tell? i could climb everything and anything! if only those pesky adults won’t stop me all the time. party-poopers.

disclaimer: *no children were harmed nor any children’s heads stuck between bed railings.
pajamas from: Cotton On Kids

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“Tsk, kids these days…”

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i was deep in slumberland one night when big momma came into my room to give me some milk. (with no cookies, so why bother, i ask you?) she told big daddy that i was, as paris hilton would say, ‘hot’, and they brought me to see The Doc (code word for Drug Dealer) in the morning.

it was there where i was busted! framed! incriminated! kena pluck!

they said i had been harbouring a dangerous fugitive called UTI. i wonder if it was previously hiding at Yew Tee MRT, along with mas se/lam/at.

behind bars, i was only given some hardtack for sustenance, barely enough to keep me alert for the long hours i needed to study the blueprints of the floorplan i smuggled for my prison break.

to pass the time, i chilled with my cell mate (see calloused, un-pedicured foot in picture) and hung around, rattling the cages and jeering at the prison wardens.

which was a bad idea, because they then performed daily acts of persecution upon me that made me howl a hundred howls, involving an excruciatingly large needle poked into my thigh.

one of the prison wardens there was a crooked old fella who cruelly and inhumanely tortured me with a cavity search for contraband (he found some all right – in my butt crack, hah!), and if that wasn’t enough, a complete strip search. oh, the indignity!

i was bailed out eventually, after two hard nights in cold confinement, and appeared in court the next day to hear the verdict.

the judge ruled: i was out of danger.

====

ok, that was auni’s version, of course.

to summarise, i went into her room at 1am to feed her, something i don’t normally do after she’s gone to sleep, and found her body warm, although she just slept through with nary a whimper. brought her to the paedi the next morning when it didn’t subside, and discovered she had high fever of 38.5. since there were no other symptoms and the fever came unexplained, a urine test was done, by attaching a sterile plastic bag thingy to her girly-bits, and we had breakfast while waiting for her to fill it up. a urine dip test was done, and a purple stain showed traces of possible urinary tract infection. and off we were, warded once more, like the time she had jaundice.

and so it was deja vu, rushing home to pack our things for the 3-day-stay, which was necessary as we had to collect another urine sample, which then had to go for a culture, which took 48-72 hours, and her fever had to be monitored, and antibiotics to be administered by injection.

i was kinda bummed at having to stay at the hospital again, this time with an active baby who’s awake most of the day, with little space to play and explore (what to do? what to do??), but looking back, it was nice, a little bonding time, just chilling on the cot bed, going on short strolls around the (boring) hospital premises, finding out things about her i didn’t know she could do.

the third day, we asked to be discharged since she wasn’t having anymore fever, and after the urine culture result came back, the doc told us that it was an external infection, ie. just the skin. it could’ve been worse, like in her kidneys or bladder. that would’ve caused permanent scarring and lead to long-term medication. so, syukur alhamdulillah, we hope there won’t be a recurrence.

so what actually caused UTI in babies? who knows. possible factors are hygiene, dehydration, or genetic, i guess. it’s different with adult UTI, which i hear is painful. i asked the nurse and she said it’s not so with babies. from the way the little one looked, it sure didn’t look like she was in a lot of pain. either that or she’s got that pain threshold i was talking about.

it’s more common in girls, so be careful, mommies out there with baby girls. i can’t say that we practice bad hygiene at home, because we all, including her daytime caregivers, do wash her girly-bits with water and baby soap whenever we change her diaper. maybe we should change it more often. maybe we should offer her more water to drink. maybe maybe maybe… but as some tell me, well, these things *just happen*. :S

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coz taking care of us at home alone is hard work, you know. so whenever an opportunity for a celebration presents itself, they’ll jump at it.

we babies work very hard too… bottoms up!

i was snoozing when 2009 arrived, but i believe abang aniq and all disturbed my slumber with loud poopers poppers and blowers and silly string.

then they played some games called ‘charades’ and ‘truth or dare’, and thank gawd i can’t talk yet, coz they’d have to pay me to keep my mouth shut for the things they said and did! ;p

abang aniq and i may have been kept out till late more than once because of my parents, ahem, ‘irresponsible’ behaviour, but one day – maybe not in 2009, seeing that i’ll probably be busy with other more important things – one day, i’ll try to remember to thank them for showing us that it’s okay to have fun, despite having little children to run and clean up after.

that it’s possible to still be themselves, despite being old farts.

that it’s important to surround themselves with what makes them happy, not just family, but invaluable friends who open up their homes, arms and hearts to you.

i’m too young to have a new year’s resolution (unless you can count growing more hair as a resolution?), but i’d say – here’s to another year of great celebrations, mum & dad and all my lovely aunties and uncles!

cheers,
auni h.

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ok, step on it, mum!

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just wanted to drop by again to give you a visual as to how strong i’ve become at four-months-three-weeks old, which i don’t think was conveyed enough in my last entry.

this is me carrying my rocker-chair-thingy.

kidding!

actually, this is how mummy and daddy usually find me after leaving me in that silly rocker-chair-thingy for barely five minutes. see, they were lulled into thinking that i’m this docile little doll who would fall asleep instantly upon being placed in that contraption. they were so cocky about my docility that they never bothered to strap me in it. well of course, i wasn’t having any of that! that whole docile scene is going to be a thing of the past, i tell you! and if there’s anything i learnt from watching tv, is that if michael scofield (who sports the same hairstyle as mine, by the way) can keep escaping from a state penitentiary, well, this rocker-chair-thingy is, literally, child’s play.

so there. one of my many great daily adventures indoors. and all that while doing a major poo-poo in my diapee (a whole adventure by itself, or rather for the victim who falls prey to the diaper-changing task, heh heh).

now, to figure out an effective mode of traction to get myself from this point to that playgym-mat-thingy on the other end of the room…

i ain’t no snail!

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i’m glad i have my abang aniq (who, by the way, always has a funky smell about him, for some reason) because he keeps me entertained a lot. all he has to do is do a little jig, or kick around a ball, or make a shrill shriek, or laugh like a crazed toddler hyena, and that’d get me all excited like a kitten with a ball of yarn.

i’m also glad to have my abang aniq, coz he helps to convey to mummy that i want her. (you’d think me screaming my head off would communicate that to her well enough, but noooo.)

it’s nice to have a big smelly brother because he doesn’t let mummy scold me, and he makes it his business to be the one requiring most of the scolding. that takes a lot of attention off me, you see, so i get away with my own naughtiness. like, sliding myself out of the rocking chair when no one’s looking (maybe i have a wriggly-worm DNA in me), or insisting on being picked up when everyone is busy (i simply cannot fathom what could possibly be more urgent than picking me up), or wrestling with anyone who tries to put clothes on me after a bath (if only we babies can live in a nudist colony, *grumble*).

anyway, i realise that i haven’t had much limelight here since i’ve arrived, have i? i suppose that’s quite normal, what with being the second child (*roll eyes*) and all. furthermore, abang aniq and i have been keeping mummy quite busy all day, EVERY day, with our constant rigorous demands, so she hardly has time or energy to turn on the computer (“or daddy”, she says, whatever that means), to blog about EVERY single thing i do, like she did when abang aniq was a baby.

so, here’s a brief update of my four-months-three-weeks-but-who’s-counting dossier.

name: auni haniz

dob: 23 apr 08

weight: between 6.4kg – 10kg, who knows for sure at this point (though mum shoves me at dad every possible chance she gets, citing her poor aching arms – i reckon i’m heavy-boned).

likes: drooling, baths, people with high-pitched voices, going for walks (see interesting fact below), newspapers (they make me go craaayyzeee, i tell ya!), balls (i get a great view of this sport in mummy’s arms whenever she and abang aniq kick a ball around the house – related to the above re: aching arms), mummy’s boobies, peekaboos, watching big kids run around, growling, laughing without sound (now, this one kills mum – she wishes my laughs were as loud as my wailings, ho ho).

hates: flipping onto tummy, putting on clothes, being left alone for more than five minutes when awake. oh, and the computer room (it’s soooo boring, i’m surprised i’m in here long enough to blog).

not too crazy about but can tolerate just barely: bottles, baldness, are-you-boy-or-girl questions (wait, these are mum’s pet peeves, actually…)

interesting fact: bears a mole on second toe of left foot. elders suspect this to mean that i will enjoy travelling. well, doncha know it! though mum would very much have preferred it on my upper lip. a mole, that is, not a toe.

skills/abilities: flipping onto tummy, straightening legs to standing position when arms are pulled, tearing shredding newspapers to bits with bare hands AND legs, getting wisps of hair on back of head to tangle into tiny little knots after waking up every morning, pummelling and kicking older brother AND not get pummelled and kicked back by him (hah! sucker).

and as my young attention span dictates, that’s all i can handle for now. gonna let out my super-annoying whine now – i *am* in this awful computer room, after all.

TTFN, xoxo!

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peace! *drool*

(i’m only three months old so please forgive my limited vocabulary. and hair.)

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is it because we both have chunky, muscular arms? (you’ll need to work out more, ol’ man.)
is it our similarly ‘boncit’ tummies? (though daddy’s suspiciously ’rounder’.)
is it how my hair stands up like his? (hey i don’t need any gel on my tuft.)
is it the shape of our lips? (no wonder mummy keeps smooching me!)

is it the way we like to slouch on the sofa together, watching football on tv? (it’s the euro cup, you know.)

nevertheless, mummy insists i look more like her. (the deluded vainpot.)

maybe some day when i learn to wear makeup (and grow some hair), i’ll look more like you, okay mum?

:p

meanwhile, excuse me while i watch this highly-engaging match.

ps: you, Parents, i demand that you change the banner on this blog to include me! this is first-child favouritism! i’m outraged!

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no, please don’t call me botak jones. or botak jane for that matters.

that’s me at six weeks. i’m taking over this blog for a while coz i’ve recently discovered the joys of gurgling, so just pretend that the funny sounds coming out of me make sense to you, ok?

nothing much to report, except that the other day the Parents brought me to the doctor’s, where i was weighed (4.6kg), measured (55cm), and brutally poked in the thigh with a heyuuuge needle, but that was ok, i just turned red in the face and gave a loud yelp, then i forgot all about it.

what’s the deal with that, anyway, terrorising little babies like me with sharp objects?? i’m glad i never have to go through that again, phew.

… WHAT?? it’ll happen AGAIN?? till i’m HOW old??? holy mustard poo!

ok, ok, deep breaths…

as i was saying, the nice lady doctor said i’m growing ok. she did some funny things to me, sniffed my butt (ok, she didn’t, she just peeked at the BCG lump on my rump), talked about her niece (huh?), and something else about a pneumococcal vaccination.

… wait, does that involve another heyuuuuge needle too? erm.

right, where was i? (please apologise, we babies do have short-term memory. and short-term attention span… oooh look, lights! ahhh…)

ok, ok, focus, auni!

so i’ll be seeing the doctor again in two months time, which daddy’s fond of coz it means child mc for him. and which mummy’s fond of too coz it means she gets to jalan-jalan. (like as if she doesn’t jalan-jalan enough.)

and i shall stop here because i feel the snooze monster sneaking up on me, and my train of thought is in serious threat of constant derailment (darn those lights, they distract me so), and mummy needs the computer for non-blog matters.

like the internet-savvy new generation baby that i am, i shall round off with a resounding: TTYL and TTFN!”

(hmph, they really should change it to GAYL for “Gurgle At You Later”.)

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i think i watched – or rather slept through – yet another movie in the cinema. sheesh. abang aniq said it was about a panda who looked like uncle bob. i bet he was just as funny too.

anyway, the few moments when i’m awake, i’m being subjected to being manhandled by my mimmy and diddy (is that what they call parents these days? i don’t know, that’s what abang aniq calls them, and he’s in my ears ALL the time.)

mimmy, as you can see, is obsessed with tights. even though they’re NOT tight on me. sheesh.

her fashion guru is of course, kakak sharleez, but haiyah mimmy! you’ve got a lot to learn, ok. nevermind, i know i know, nothing much fits me now, and you’ve been dressing abang aniq up in boring boy clothes for two and a half years, so of course, you’ll need a crash course in dressing girls up.

what? pink? bring it on! wuaahaha!

ps: sorry mimmy for pooing – THRICE – after your efforts. *poooot*”

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