New Landscapes, New Beginnings

Too fast too soon, time spent with Dobbes all day is over again even before it really began. The two full days I had with him were a flurry of medical and lunch appointments, errands, phone-calls to rectify administrative mistakes and harried shopping.

Also his little body finally succumbed to the nasty cough and cold that had taken hold of his Atuk. Despite trying to stay away from Dobbes until his antibiotics course ended, his favourite playmate couldn't resist cuddling him on Friday, two days before the deadline.

So we ended up taking Dobbes to the docs last Sunday and the sounds of his pitiful sniffles and phlegmy coughs are like painful lashings to my heart. Mobbes does a good job of using the mucus extractor to drain Dobbes' blocked nasal passages but he would wail, kick and scream as if being branded by a hot iron. And he hates the nose drops that we use too.

If that isn't enough, I've just started the new job and work has kept me back from being home in time to give Dobbes his evening bath. In fact, I don't do it anymore. Mobbes tries to rush home to it but I think most of the time it's just faithful Bibik Su who does the job. Meanwhile Dobbes is outgrowing his jammies and beginning to wear the new ones (meant for 6-12 month-olds) even though he's drinking slightly less milk daily. Probably because the blocked nose and tickly throat don't exactly whet his appetite...

Speaking of which, on the milk front, I am going through quite a prolific phase. Perhaps the soups are helping or the little break in between jobs has helped me to stockpile a fair bit of munitions to survive the long hours away from my lovely fatty. It helps that at work, I have a good environment to pump in and now have a pantry and fridge where I can store the milk properly and sterilise equipment so that I don't have to keep carting everything back and forth like a pack mule. Today I expressed twice at work and had to get Mobbes to come down to bring extra arms because I ran out.

The new workplace is also more decent and accessible so the plan is for Bibik Su and Dobbes to come over for lunchtime feeds from next week onwards.

So there's the good and bad in these times. It's hard to leave Dobbes in the morning as he clings to Bibik and looks on while I put on my shoes and leave for work. He still smiles when I rain kisses on his face and blow raspberries on his neck but beneath that is a graver understanding that I am leaving him for eight hours and Bibik will be the one to do his cards, feed him, change his diaper and sing him to sleep.

I am happy that I have the help and jealous at the same time that to help me is to take over my place as Dobbes' main caregiver. Which is why I am doubly committed to make the milk flow for as long and abundantly as I am fit and able to provide it.

And Dobbes will never want for love and hugs and comfort in the night because they are, like me, his for the taking. Even in sleep, he is my king.

And so it goes...

Mobbes the Daddy is quite smug that he wrote the last entry and became excited about me updating the blog. I don't know whether to think it's cute or roll my eyeballs at him, so I did both.

Yesterday we waded through tens of over a thousand pictures of Dobbes that we've been taking since his birth. It has only been two months and 27 days but already we miss his teeny-ness even while enjoying how much cuter he's getting as he grows bigger, chubbier and more cherubic.

Just compare:



I know I'm a new Mum but it is like looking at two different babies. After poring over the pictures, Mobbes pined after the tiny newborn we used to have and is paranoid that current memories would also pass us by quickly. From now on, must always take videos, he says.

So...



I really shouldn't be lazy in updating the blog. Probably no one really follows this journal and that's okay because this is a repository of thoughts, feelings and memories of our adventures with Dobbes that is just for us, the Cat Family. And the good and the bad, it's all here.

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Speaking of the bad, Dobbes had a fever after his vaccination.



In early days we had freaked out over every little red bump of rash that appeared on the precious' skin. After being assured by the pediatrician (people in the know call them "paed") -- all the way at the National University Hospital miles away from home -- that yes, that is indeed miliaria and cradle cap, we proceeded to buy every known moisturiser, cream and oil that would be safe for Dobbes.

I even managed to stop picking at the skin bits on his scalp. Kinda.

So when he had the fever, Mobbes put on a brave front for all of two seconds before declaring that we should "take him to the hospital". Apparently, my attempts with the cold compress did not impress him. Of course Mobbes also conveniently fell asleep while I stayed up with Dobbes pretty much the whole night, compressing and hydrating him with feeds.

From time to time I would shake Mobbes awake to take temperature. It hovered on the higher side of 37 degrees, even venturing to 38 plus degrees at one point.

At dawn, when Dobbes woke up crying for a feed, his forehead felt cool to the touch. He fed voraciously. I was relieved, knowing instinctively that his fever had broken but poked Mobbes in the ribs just to be certain. He scrambled for the thermometer.

(By the way, we use an OSIM Ear Scan which for the life of me, I can't figure out. Even Mobbes takes about three tries or more to get "correct readings", annoying little Dobbes in the process...)

"36.5 degrees. He's okay!" pronounced Mobbes happily.

We proceeded to celebrate by dressing him up fancy and taking him to Starbucks to play.



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By the way, best products EVER for Dobbes' skin...