So Christmas is, erm, so 2011. Heh. But I was going through my photo archives on Flickr and I realised that I hadn’t written about the afternoon tea pack that I had put together for my friends. And I kinda like those pictures a lot (even if they are spike-worthy since they are not sharp)! So here you go.
I had wanted to make/bake something again this year, like what I did with the homemade strawberry jam last year. That had marked a turning point for me: I realised that buying presents can never really be the same as making something by hand. But between birthing classes, spending time with loved ones and running baby errands, I didn’t have the luxury of time to stew over the stove or oven as I had intended and decided to be a little less ambitious with my goal.
But I was adamant about putting my own little touches to the project, even if I am not exactly the most crafty of persons. And since I love having afternoon tea so much, I decided to turn that into a gift for our friends.
We got plain mugs from Ikea and initially, I wanted to try DIY glass etching but meh, no time. And I didn’t think people would like to receive tacky, gaudy coffee mugs screaming “MERRY CHRISTMAS 2011!!” so I left the mugs as they were.
I then spooned individual servings of hot chocolate powder topped with a mountain of marshmallows (cos that’s how I like mine done) and stashed each mug with a sachet and an earl grey tea bag (cos, erm, I love earl grey). Tie a jaunty bow onto the mug and then pack them into cute Father Christmas paper bags. Voila! An afternoon tea pack with love!
After Christmas, I came to the conclusion that I would really not like to receive thoughtless gifts anymore. Receiving something that you know wasn’t bought with a lot of thought or heart feels sad and a present that is bought because you need to gift someone with something is quite a waste of money. Goodness knows how many things are now stowed away in our storeroom because they aren’t things we can use or like.
For Christmas this year, I hope we can do something with a difference with our money, instead of buying meaningless presents.
Dear Tiny Human,
And just like that, we are coasting into the final stretch. 10 more weeks or so until you make your appearance.
People have been asking me if I am prepared and ready for your entrance into this world. How do I tell them that I have been ready since two and a half years ago? How do I tell them that I’ve been longing for your arrival since the day I tossed that box of birth control pills into the bin and decided to try and make a baby? How do I tell them that the very faint notion of you being in my life was the driving force behind my survival during our trek into the big, scary jungle of infertility?
I smile, and tell them that I am as prepared as anyone can be.
Your dad and I have talked about how our lives will change once you are here and, there is no fear, no worry, no anxiety. We know that our financial situation will change drastically, we know that our lives will be turned topsy turvy, we know that our days of having glorious uninterrupted sleep will end. And yet we take it all in our stride, we just know that we will get through it eventually.
As we always do.
One of the things that I love to do every night is to wind down the day with you. We sit, you and I, in the dim light as the room fills sweetly with the scent of my favourite aromatherapy oils. Sometimes, I read you a book. Or I will plug in the Bellybuds and let you listen to some music. Most days, I’d play you songs from the Glee soundtrack before bringing down the tempo with Rockabye Baby! Lullaby renditions of The Smashing Pumpkins. Or you could be listening to the HypnoBirthing affirmations with me. And then I’d get your dad into the room and he’ll tell you stuff like how he’s looking forward to watching football matches with you in future. He’d put his ear to my belly and laugh, saying that all he can hear is my stomach juices.
And then we’d poke you a few times to elicit some reactions from you – okay, I am usually the one poking you, sorry – before turning in for the night.
We always talk about we hope you’d be this and that. Like, oh, let’s hope he sleeps like me and looks like me and all. But ultimately, we just want you to be here with us safe and sound. And then we will embark on this new and foreign journey together, you and me and dad. We’d figure this parenthood thing out together. With you.
So have some patience with us, just as we will try to have patience with you.
Love,
Mama
This video may be two years old but it’s been making the rounds on my Facebook.
Last Minutes with ODEN from Eliot Rausch + Phos Pictures on Vimeo.
My cats are considered young – they are not yet three. But we know, deep within us, that there will come a time when they will go and that we will outlive their little lives.
It’s something I try not to think about too much but it’s there at the back of my mind.
I call them brats, yell at them when they are naughty and sigh at the expensive food that they eat. At the same time, I love them with all my heart and buy them the best food we can afford because I want them to live happy, healthy long lives with us.
They have been our babies long before the nugget came along.
Anyway. I sobbed my eyes out when watching the video. It’s beautifully shot and intimate.
Enjoy.
