Interruptions

The Muslim new year will come this Friday, which means a long weekend for everyone here in Singapore.

I'm so looking forward to it! Largely because I need those few days to park myself on the couch and strap my girls onto the Medela Swing, and pray my breastmilk production will return.

Yes, a lactation vacation!

Work has built up significantly this week and I've not been able to tear myself away from work to pump at the usual times. For three days in a row I've been able to only pump once at work, before rushing home to baby.

To make things worse, baby slept through the night the last three days - from 9.30pm to 7.30am! A dream for most mothers, I suppose, but for me it meant sleeping through till sunrise with exploding boobies and realising I've missed a chance to empty my breasts and encourage production.

I really want to feed Titus for a full year, so I must find greater determination to remove myself from work and to wake up in the night to pump, pump, pump.

Smart diner

I love broccoli. So I cannot understand why this green health wonder is so hated by many.

To ensure baby loves the vegetable as much as I do, I decided to start him on it early. Like now, when he's seven months old. When his tastebuds are still untainted by seductive sweet and savory foods.

For his dinner, I prepared puree broccoli with red rice porridge. Yummy!

He took the first spoonful. No gagging. Good. Another spoonful. No scrunching up his little nose. Excellent.

So I fed on. However, I realised he was taking longer and longer to open his mouth. By the 10th spoon, he pursed his lips and refused to open them when I tapped the spoon against his mouth.

When I persisted, he turned his face away from me and refused to look me in the eyes. No amount of cajoling could get him to open his mouth and accept one last mouthful.

I refused to give up. So did he. And he started to twist his body away from me, desperate to get as far away from the spoon as possible.

It was hilarious.

This baby is smart and he knows he has the right to choose.

Earlier in the afternoon we gave him a baby rusk, a tasteless thing that is meant for babies to bite and relief teething pains while getting something nutritious in their belly. He took it, explored it gingerly with his mouth, and then gave daddy a peculiar look.

"Do you like it?" Daddy asked.

Baby took another bite, then held out the rusk stick and examined it with a frown. 

"Give it to me if you don't want it," daddy said, holding his palm out to baby.

And baby handed the wet, unpalatable thing to daddy. LOL!

Looks like I'll have to toss out the remaining box of rusks.