the personal blog of C.K.Koay
My eldest daughter dropped a musical bombshell: she wanted to see a band called Cigarettes After Sex in concert. For a girl who prefers staying in her room, proactively wanting to venture out into a sea of people is like a siput babi willingly leaving its shell.
Continue reading “Cigarettes After Sex X’s Tour in Kuala Lumpur”
My eldest daughter is having her mock IGCSE exams for the next few weeks. I’ve taken on the role of her personal chauffeur to ensure she arrives on time. Sure, having a personal driver might sound posh, but trust me, I don’t envy her—especially seeing how stressed out she is.
So there I was at the paediatrician’s office, watching my little Chloe get her shots, when it hit me – we’ve advanced so much as a species.
These days they’ve got these miracle 6-in-1 or 9-in-1 vaccines that protect babies from everything from Hepatitis to—I don’t know—spontaneous night farting. (Okay, maybe not, but for our sake and anyone within nostril-shot of a diaper change, they really should include something for odor control.)
The whole experience reminded me of those painful computer upgrade sessions we all loooovvveeee so much. You know the drill: Microsoft or Apple proudly announces you’re installing “the most advanced piece of software known to humankind,” which apparently translates to “please stare at this progress bar as you wait for the imaginary paint to dry on your spanking new windows.”
After what feels like enough time to grow a small garden, your computer triumphantly announces it’s ready to launch this technological marvel. And what’s the first thing that happens? Seventeen windows pop up begging you to download another 8,000 gigabytes of updates because apparently this “revolutionary software” aged like milk accidentally left in your car in the open-air carpark in Central Market.
Which, if you think about it, is basically how human babies work too.
Our little bundles arrive perfectly designed with the latest evolutionary upgrades, only to immediately need “patching” against every virus that’s developed since our ancestors figured out walking upright was a neat party trick.
Looking at today’s shot schedule makes me think newborns must have the most confusing medical records. “Day 1: Existed. Day 3: Received 74 vaccinations.” I’m just grateful babies don’t come with peripherals like cameras or scanners. Can you imagine? Patching the device drivers for those suckers is hell.
Becoming a new parent is like being on perpetual standby– nothing takes priority over your baby’s welfare. Your time, energy, and sanity are all at their mercy.
Take my favorite hobbies, for example. First, I’d need to miraculously find time to indulge in them. But even if I do, my enjoyment is entirely contingent on Chloe’s cooperation. Watching a movie? Sure– as long as she doesn’t cry. And if she does? It doesn’t matter if Liam Neeson is mid-rampage in Taken, single-handedly dismantling a human trafficking ring– the movie stops. Chloe wins. Every. Single. Time.
Books and magazines? They’ve been downgraded to doctor’s waiting room status– just there to kill time until the next crying emergency demands my attention.
A baby’s attention requirements are nothing short of relentless.
Completely helpless, they rely on able-bodied adults to do their bidding. And their arsenal of control?
When combined in varying proportions, these tactics override any form of adult resistance, reducing fully grown humans into obedient drones programmed to fulfill their every whim.
After two years of servitude to the tiniest (but most powerful) dictator I’ve ever met, it’s time for payback.
I’ve decided to secretly train Chloe in household maintenance– a carefully disguised “hand-eye coordination” development program. The syllabus includes:
And because structure is important in parenting, I’ll even draw up a chore schedule to help her develop responsibility (purely for her own good, of course).
Maybe it’s time to consider an army of kids– imagine the productivity levels! Hehehe.
Chloe’s Close-Up, originally uploaded by CeeKay’s Pix.
One of the most frequent reply that I got on SMS amidst all of the congratulatory messages was that I have to bid farewell to my nights. Little did I know that the senders were dead serious.
On average, I had slept no more than 4 hours per night since Tuesday. There were times when I was lucky enough to sleep for 2 hours straight. In the morning, I was rushing around, trying to get one thing or the other done.
It simply isn’t easy.
But something in her brings out that extra ounce of energy in yourself that you need to push yourself further beyond your breaking point.
After starting the day being heavily deprived of sleep, I was rushing from the one place to another, buying last minute baby items and ensuring that Cheryl is comfortable so that she can recuperate. After all that helter skelter of a day, as I was about to fall asleep, a tiny cry came from the crib in our room at 2.30am.
I walked there, feeling tired and I saw a priceless stare (as captured in this photo) from Chloe.
She could have asked me to walk to the moon and back and I would have happily complied. Luckily, for her and for me, she didn’t. However, 10 minutes after the photo was taken, she wailed until 4am. After trying all methods from feeding to swaddling, she eventually fell asleep on her mother’s bosom.
Babies are designed cute to elicit an emotional response from their parents to provide for them comfort, food and attention even though they could only cry and wail. After experiencing this first hand, I must conclude that this is probably one of the most brilliant evolutionary development in the human race.