At 7 Months

With my DH, who spoils me everyday with breakfast in bed before he leaves for work.

So Far So Good

I'm in my 29th week of pregnancy and I'm doing just fine. My blood sugar level is manageable. Tala is healthy and kicking like there's no tomorrow. In my last ultrasound, she weighed 2.8 lbs., not too big and not too small. We play music for her every night: classical and baby music. I still have to buy baby books, but sometimes I use an iphone app to read books to her. I can't wait until she's old enough so I can get her the Nancy Drew series. I really want to provide a good reading environment for her. DH and I were discussing that we won't let her watch TV at least in her first two years. This way, we'll have more time for reading and for playing outside.

The last two ultrasounds, she wouldn't let the nurse take a picture of her face. She just wouldn't turn her head. I guess she wants to surprise us. I wonder who she'd take after; me or DH. Will she be more asian looking or hispanic looking? I kinda wish she'd look more like DH though. hehehe. I don't know why. I just find it cute to have a baby girl that looks like my husband. One thing for sure, she will have big beautiful eyes like mom and dad. Unless she'd take after my brother and sister who could pass for Korean or Chinese. Okay, enough fantasizing. The important thing is that she's healthy. That's every parents' wish for their baby.

We still have to buy baby stuff. What we have right now is a crib with an attached changing table. DH's boss gave us his son's old mattress and my sister-in-law is lending us her baby's bassinet. Considering how expensive baby things can be, I'm glad we're getting free stuff. I hope we'd get more before Tala comes. I've been searching the internet for basic baby stuff and reading parents' comments about what to buy and NOT to buy. So far it's been enlightening. I'm in the process of making a shortlist of baby essentials.

There are days when it still feels surreal that there's a baby growing inside of me. I can't believe that I'll be seeing her in July. I'm not ready yet! I'm both terribly excited and scared. Will I be a good mom? How can I teach her the ways of the world when I'm still a little lost myself? Uh oh. Time to stop. I don't wanna get philosophical. I just wanna shout to the whole world how happy and grateful I am to be given this chance to be a mother.

It's been a very wonderful experience; this pregnancy with all the nausea, heartburn and whatnot. In less than three months, Tala will be in my arms!!!

The Mother's Prayer for Its Daughter

This is an excerpt from Tina Fey's new book, Bossypants, that I read from this link. It's a hilarious and dead-on poem that she wrote for her daughter. As an expectant mom to a baby girl, I can totally relate.

"THE MOTHER'S PRAYER FOR ITS DAUGHTER"

First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches. 

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the the Beauty. 

When the Crystal Meth is offered, 

May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half 

And stick with Beer. 

Guide her, protect her 

When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the nearby subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock N’ Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age. 

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. 

Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes

And not have to wear high heels. 

What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit. 

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers. 

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. 

Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, 

For Childhood is short -- a Tiger Flower blooming 

Magenta for one day -- 

And Adulthood is long and Dry-Humping in Cars will wait. 

O Lord, break the Internet forever, 

That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers 

And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed. 

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, 

Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, 

For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it. 

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, 

That I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 a.m., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. 

“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. 

“My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental note to call me. And she will forget. 

But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes. 

Amen.

Happy Monday

Trying to decide which one to use from my growing collection. Such happy colors!

My New Mantra

I have a confession to make. I've been coveting Alexander Wang's mini rocco duffle bag. I've been trying to justify buying it, but my better sense always prevails. I remind myself that I have a wee one I'm about to pop soon so baby stuff should come first. I'm sure many women have been under the same dilemma. Especially in this consumer-driven society of ours. It almost feels unfair, right? Why have this desire for a nice, albeit expensive bag and at the same time feel guilty about buying it? I guess it all depends on whether or not you can afford it. But beyond that, what I'm really concerned with is, after I succumb to my desire, what then? Will I stop at that? Or will I be slowly entrenched into a web of buying branded purses because I caved in and is now addicted to the high?

That's what I'm really worried about. I don't wanna be a slave over material things. I've always believed that experience is greater than material stuff. Instead of buying those expensive bags, I could just save up for more travel. There's so much to explore and discover in the world. Broadening my horizon is so much better than having an overpriced bag no matter what angle you look at it. It's a no-brainer.

So this is now my new mantra: experience is greater than material things. Repeat ad infinitum.