My brother is coming to town this weekend meaning it was time to get the other house cleaned up so that it is livable.  My MIL graciously loaned me her maid on Wednesday and today to get it cleaned up, despite having worship to prepare for (it’s the Chinese ghost month).

As always, I feel a need to pick apart a difficult morning and analyse it minute to minute and wonder fruitlessly if there might have been anything I could have done differently to have made it somewhat better.  Please indulge me because when I went downstairs to discard our soiled clothes, I started to rant to my SIL2 and forgot to tell I just wanted her to listen to me and be patient with me with regards to not offering any advice.  You know how it is when you’re in that state where you’re not really ready to listen to anyone’s advice, but you just want to get something off your chest? (Sorry SIL2 - you did good, I just wasn’t ready to listen).

So what happened?

Gavin slept early last night and woke up at 6:30am this morning which was a little too early for us to get going to the other house.  If I’ve learned anything about my son, it is that the best time to get him to cooperate and sit in his carseat is if we leave the house within two hours of him waking up.  Since 8:30am is peak hour, I thought I’d try to get him to go back to sleep again for another hour or two.

Not a chance!  He’d already slept 11 hours straight so I guess he wasn’t in the mood to go back to sleep.  Got downstairs by about 8:45am and asked the maid to take her travel meds (she’s got motion sickness) so we could get going as soon as possible.  I knew we were already off to a bad start but I had to try.

I pre-empted Gavin about sitting in the carseat and he cooperatively nodded his head.  Good sign.  I went to get breakfast while we waited for my MIL to get back.  When I tried to change his clothes, he flat out refused to put on his diaper.  He wouldn’t wear his clothes either even though I had brought out his already snug fitting Mickey Mouse outfit he got for his first year birthday that I knew he liked to wear.  Bad sign. 

He was also rubbing his eyes.  Bad bad sign.

He was vaguely asking for milk.  Bad bad bad sign.

When my MIL came back, he cooperated a little to get the clothes on but by then he wasn’t in any mood to sit in the carseat.  We tried everything that had ever worked in the past:

• sang all manner of songs
• offered him books
• offered him toys
• offered him a lollipop
• got the maid to sit in the car first
• told him he was going to go “walk walk”

None of it worked.  He just got more hysterical the more we tried to put him into his carseat.  Finally, I gave up trying to get him to sit.  I figured my brother wasn’t that much of a clean freak anyway.  I’m sure he wouldn’t notice a bit of dirt here and there.

But by now Gavin was so geared up to go out, he didn’t want to go back into the house.  He cried when I tried to get him into the car, he cried when I tried to get him back into the house.

I knew what he wanted.  He wanted to go “walk walk”.  So I thought I would placate him with a walk around the garden.  But no, he wanted to get into the car and drive to one of those “faraway” places to “walk walk”.  And he wanted me to sit with him in the backseat and nurse him.

I explained to him that I couldn’t do that because who was going to drive the car?  I couldn’t get the maid to sit in the back with him because even with her meds, she was still very proned to motion sickness and especially so if she had to handle Gavin.  I couldn’t ask my MIL or my SIL2 to help because they were both busy.

I couldn’t placate him with a walk in the garden and I couldn’t convince him to get back into the house.  Finally he puked - all over himself and myself.

So I took him up to shower - which he didn’t want to either.  I finally convinced him to practice transferring water between his bowl and cup - currently his favourite passtime - and he relented.  Got him cleaned up, after which he was so tired, he fell asleep on the boob.

To be fair to Gavin, I know he wasn’t deliberately trying to be difficult.  He was getting tired and his patience was wearing thin.  There are times when a child is deliberately being difficult and there are times when he’s a slave to his passions.  This morning, it was definitely the latter.

In retrospect, I know there wasn’t anything I could have done differently (except not try to go out when I knew all the conditions were wrong - which is exactly what I would have done if I didn’t need to go over to the other house to get it clean).

Okay, it was still a difficult morning, but at least I’m convinced now that I didn’t totally mismanage the whole morning.  Thanks for listening.

Popularity: 6% [?]

I’ve been down and out the past couple of days with a stomach bug.  I guess that’s what happens when you try not to “waste” the food (and drinks) your toddler doesn’t finish and consume them yourself.  Note to self: please discard all unwanted food from now on and remember that if you don’t think it’s safe for your toddler to eat it, then it’s probably not safe for you to eat it either.

When I felt the first waves of nausea, I thought hopefully that I might be pregnant.  Any hope was crushed by the doctor who confirmed that it was definitely food poisoning because of an elevated pulse rate, mildly elevated temperature, and vomiting (which happened while I was in the clinic) that subsequently made me feel better.  Additionally, based on my cycle, it was probably too soon for me to be experiencing pregnancy symptoms anyway.

Not that I didn’t try testing with a home kit.  I bought myself a Clearblue home test stick after being convinced about its accuracy from my previous experience with Gavin.  I was a little surprised to discover that it had gone up in price.  I distinctly recall it only cost about RM20 the last time I bought it.  This time I paid RM30 for it.  Ah well, I figured it was just all the price hikes and inflation.  Little did I realise that this was a new and improved test stick.

What I bought was not the old Clearblue test stick that I had used previously.  Instead, it was a new Clearblue Digital test stick with an LCD monitor to tell you whether your urine test was positive or negative!

Goodness!  What will they think of next?

Popularity: 4% [?]

When my friend C sent me a second congratulatory note about Gavin winning another Parenthood magazine competition, I thought she was referring to him winning the June edition “Candid Camera” competition sponsored by Pigeon.  Little did I realise that he had won the July edition “Mini Me” Contest sponsored by Sweet Cherry.

To think that when I first submitted Gavin’s photos I was dreadfully disappointed that he didn’t win anything.  What a surprise it was to discover that he won not one but two prizes! 

Here’s the winning shot:

My caption: “My friends and family members said that I’m a “chunk” off the old block, but I reckon I have Mummy’s eyes!”

Now it will really make my day if he can win a place in the Johnson and Johnson’s Baby of the Year Competition…

Popularity: 6% [?]

Some time back, Gavin was playing with a drum his Dad bought for him.  While playing, he accidentally dropped the drum onto my toes and boy did it hurt.  While I was moaning in pain, hubby said to Gavin, “Say ’sorry’ Gavin.  You gave Mummy an ‘owie’.”

Gavin burst into tears and started crying.  I looked at him in surprise, distracted momentarily from my pain.  I thought I was the one that was hurt!

Last night, while he was nursing, he playfully bit my nipple - okay, the action was playful but it really hurt.  I looked at him sternly and said, “No biting!”  After a while, he asked for milk again and I said, “No.  You’re just playing and Mummy’s in pain.”

Then hubby said, “Mummy’s got an ‘owie’.”

Again Gavin burst into tears.  I admit, I’m still confused but this is how I’ve decided to take it:

When you have a toddler, you have to look for the silver lining in every cloud or you might just go mad.  So this is me being grateful that I have such an empathic son who feels my pain so much that he even cries for me.

Popularity: 8% [?]

A couple of nights ago, we had another one of those “difficult nights”.  An over-tired and super cranky Gavin launched into a very long and very loud crying fit that had the whole house on edge.

The Background

Gavin has a tendency to wake up in the morning before receiving his full 10-12 hours of sleep a night.  Usually to help him clock in the hours, I will keep him upstairs and let him play a little while before trying to nurse or rock him back to sleep. 

One evening, the hubby suggested I take him downstairs instead of letting him go back to sleep.  I immediately debunked his suggestion and told him that if I took Gavin downstairs, he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep until his nap time and he would forever be playing “catch up” on his sleep.  Since sleep is a child’s time for putting in order the things he has learned during the day, I felt it extremely important that Gavin gets adequate quantities of sleep regardless of how we managed it.  At this age, adequate is 10-12 hours of sleep a night, plus at least one 2-3 hours nap in the afternoon.

What Happened

One morning Gavin woke up at 7am (after falling asleep at about 11pm the night before).  By 8am, he still hadn’t gone back to sleep.  Feeling bad for thrashing the hubby’s suggestion some evenings previously, I decided to try what he suggested and bring him downstairs to play for a bit (hoping I could help him make up for the lack of sleep during his day time nap).

Gavin played for a while and went up for another nap at 11am.  He woke up at 12:30pm.  My SIL2 and I took him shopping.  I hoped the shopping excursion would wear him out sufficiently to take a second nap later in the afternoon (given that Gavin hasn’t had two naps in the day in quite a long while and sometimes pushes 6 hours plus between nap and bedtime).

When we got home, he refused to sleep (it was about 4pm).  Rocking and nursing failed to get him off to bed.  It was 5:30pm when I decided to give up and let him have an early night.  When he went back downstairs, he was running around like a mad boy, squealing with delight and joy as he played with our maid and my SIL2.  Everything seemed to be going well.

By dinner time, he was clearly getting tired.  Hubby took him up to bathe - he wailed all the way through.  By the time hubby passed Gavin to me to nurse to sleep, Gavin’s eyes were almost shut.  He fell asleep in record time and all was well (it was about 7:30pm).

8:15pm, Gavin woke up crying.  The crying escalated to inconsolable screaming wails.  I offered my breast, he rejected it.  I carried him around the room, rocking and patting him but he wouldn’t calm down.  After a while, I could make out a hiccoughing request for “milk”, so I offered him my breast.  I soon realised that he couldn’t drink because his nose was blocked and that made him even more upset.  He launched into a fresh bout of screeching wails while I tried to rock him and soothe him.

At about this point, the hubby said in a rather calm voice, “You should manage his day better.”

With Gavin’s wailing in the background, I wasn’t sure I heard him right.  “What?”  I asked.

He repeated himself.

I couldn’t believe it.

Note to all the Dads out there reading this blog post (or Mums, if Dad is the stay-home parent):

1. Please don’t insult us mothers by stating the obvious.  The fact that Gavin’s misery was brought upon by a lack of sleep was clearly evident.  It doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out. 

2. If you must insist on making such comments, please find a more appropriate time to do so. When the baby is wailing at the top of his voice is NOT and appropriate time.

The Solution

We took Gavin downstairs, turned on Playhouse Disney and let him watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.  He was a lot better after that.  His nose had also cleared up, so that by the time we took him back upstairs, he was able to nurse again.

The Conclusion

Unfortunately for me, after nursing, he stayed up until 11:30pm, albeit in a much improved disposition.

While some toddlers manage to thrive regardless of the amount of sleep they get, Gavin, evidently, is not one of those toddlers.  Needless to say, I will not be bringing him downstairs until he has clocked an adequate amount of sleep for a “night” as this experience has merely served to reinforce the fact that there is no such thing as “catch up” sleep during nap time - at least, not where Gavin is concerned.

The other thing I’ve learned is that when it comes to mothering a child - mother does indeed know best.  So Mums - trust your own instincts, even if it goes against what everyone else tells you.  You are the one who spends the most time with your child - it naturally stands to reason that you will know your child best.

Popularity: 7% [?]

…or rather, it’s “nen nen” (which literally means “milk” in Chinese).

Gavin’s first words were “ai yah” and “yeah yeah” (taught to him by his Dad).  You would have thought it might be Mama, or Mummy, or even Dada, or Daddy.

When he finally learned to say Mummy, he used to address me as such ONLY when he wanted to nurse.  So he would say, “Mummy milk,” or “Mummy nen nen”.

He must have figured we were too familiar for formalities because he decided to dispense with addressing me as “Mummy”.  Now, it’s, “Nen nen nen nen nen nen,” until I give him what he wants.

It might have been fine if that was what he said only when he wanted to nurse, except that he always says, “Nen nen,” when he wants me.  Even when he doesn’t want to nurse, he’ll say, “Nen nen.”

So it would appear that my name is no longer “Mummy”, but “nen nen”.  I used to think he would call for “nen nen” when he wanted me because he knew that he could always get Mummy if he asked for “milk”, but now I occasionally catch him saying, “Nen nen,” crawling into my lap and then crawling out of it again even before I can get my shirt up.

Is this one of those sociological side effects of nursing or is my child unique unto himself?  Are there any breastfeeding mothers out there also known as “milk” to their toddler? 

Perhaps I should just put it down to one of those dreadful terms of endearment that one gets stuck with, like “chubby-wubby”.

Popularity: 7% [?]

They call it the “terrible twos” but really it should be called the “onerous ones” or perhaps the “obstinate ones”.  Is it because of this misnomer that a lot of parents relate their harrowing stories of defiant toddlers to having begun when their child turned two?  Because that is what I hear from a lot of parents when it comes to their children - “Oh, the day she hit two - that was when all hell broke lose!”

Naturally, I was alarmed when Gavin was already showing signs of the terrible twos shortly after his first birthday.  I mean, if this isn’t the terrible twos then I would really hate to see what Gavin’s terrible twos have in store for me. 

In case you’re wondering whether I’m making a mountain out of a molehill, let me relate to you a few typical scenes with Gavin and you tell me whether you agree or not:

• He loves water, he loves to swim and he loves playing with water in the bath, yet, when it’s bath time, he flat out refuses to get into the bath.  When it’s all over, he refuses to get out and insists he’s not done. 

All my little tactics to get him out of the bath calmly have worked with limited results (as in, they work a few times until he catches on to the trick and then he starts backing away from me because he’s figured out what happens next).  When we take him out, he doesn’t just protest, he screams like someone’s trying to kill him (as his Daddy would describe it).

• When it’s bedtime, he does everything possible to stall.  For instance, he’ll ask for a sip of water which ends up being like 10 sips. When all his little tricks fail, he’ll turn those pleading eyes for some hapless family member to rescue him from the evil clutches of Mummy who’s about to put a stop to all his fun. 

Upstairs in our room, he’ll make signs that he wants to poop but when I put him on the toilet, nothing will come out.  When I make to take him off the toilet, he’ll start making grunting noises again as if he’s trying to poop.  I suspect the toilet trick is just to get the lights back on, especially when you consider that he never wants to sit on the toilet during the day.

Then he’ll ask for music but the only music he wants to listen to is Baby Signing Time.  When I play the music, he starts to dance like a mad boy and he signs like he never signs during the day.  He is simply adorable to watch until you remember that it’s actually bed time and it is now an hour after the time you were originally planning to put him to bed.

Luckily for my sanity, I discovered that the terrible twos can actually begin any time after the first birthday and sometimes even before.  So there really is a reason why my toddler gives me a hard time and I’m not prematurely balding as I yank my hair out in frustration over nothing.

As much as I had originally planned not to give Gavin any negative labels, it would appear that some undesirable labels have already stuck.  For instance, the hubby calls him LS (read: little sh*t) when he wakes up at 5am in the morning and starts bouncing around on the bed.  Whenever Gavin disobeys or does anything undesirable, he’s LS.  As much as I hate to label him so, when you’re sleep deprived with a squealing toddler bouncing off the walls like he’s high on speed and giggling to himself as he causes you no end of pain, it’s kinda hard.

Ironically, when we were at Tanjong Jara for a recent family holiday, aside from adoring his cuteness, a number of people told us how well-behaved they thought Gavin was.  Whenever we received one of these comments, the hubby would be like, “Huh?  Oh wait a minute, that’s because you haven’t seen him at home.”

Even though our view on Gavin might have been tainted by our private experiences of his temper at home, I have to admit, Gavin is pretty well behaved in public company.  In fact, I would go so far as to say he makes a rather gracious host.  He clearly adores being the center of attention and sometimes he even goes looking for it, trying to catch the eye of the cashier while wearing his most winsome smile.  Just to seal the deal, he’ll blow a kiss before we leave the shop.

Last night, while we were having dinner at a restaurant, Gavin was smiling and talking babble to some of the waitresses while we ate.  He kept gesturing to the food on our table and signing the word “eat” almost as if to say, “Come, come, join us!  Eat, eat!”  Aside from that, he readily signs “please” when he wants something and “thank you” when we prompt him.  “Sorry” is a little harder to come by but he still signs it after a little bit of cajoling.  Now how can I not be proud of my son’s public relations and social skills?

I guess one of the good things about taking Gavin out and speaking to strangers about him is that it helps us regain some perspective on our toddler’s behaviour and manners.

Popularity: 10% [?]

When we were at Tanjong Jara for a brief vacation recently, the hubby sweetly offered to mind Gavin on his own for an hour while I went off for a massage. 

Gavin had been showing increased clinginess towards me since the previous few days and during the entire time we were at Tanjong Jara, he only wanted me to carry him.  Daddy could only carry him if I was not in sight, or only for brief periods of time.  He only wanted me to hold his hand and he always wanted me to come with him whenever he wanted to explore something new.

Despite the increased clinginess over the past few days, I figured it would be okay to go since the hubby had been rather successful at getting Gavin to fall asleep without me recently.  Just to be on the safe side, I chose the shortest package they had to offer - which was a 50 minute long Malay massage. 

When it came time for me to head for my massage appointment, Gavin decided he didn’t want Mummy to go anywhere without him.  I tried to get him to fall asleep unsuccessfully until I had to go.  Hubby took Gavin and told him I was going to the toilet and I snuck out of our room (in retrospect, I probably should have just told Gavin where I was going and walked out with him knowing where I was going and that I would be coming back).  He would have still been mad but at least it wouldn’t have seemed so much like I had abandoned him.  Well, hindsight is 20-20 vision.

Anyway, I went off for the massage feeling rather uneasy the entire time.  When I finished my massage, I saw hubby carrying a calm Gavin in his arms and walking towards me.  Thinking everything went well, I waved at them.  Gavin, who normally waves back enthusiastically when he sees me, did not respond at all.  Feeling a little nervous, I waited until they were nearer before attempting to greet Gavin again.  Still no response. 

Gavin stared at me with dead eyes - it was a look that clearly said, “How could you abandon me?”  It was so accusatory - not in an angry way but a sad, defeated way, which made it even worse.  Tentatively, I reached out my arms to him and he didn’t respond.

“Do you want Mummy to carry you?”  I asked.

No response.

Considering that he had only wanted me to carry him since we arrived at Tanjong Jara, this was very unusual behaviour and it made me feel extremely nervous.  After repeatedly asking him if he wanted me to carry him, he finally reached his arms out to me but he was still silent.  I took him into my arms and immediately he began to wail.  He didn’t just cry - he howled with the kind of distress normally associated with intense misery and I couldn’t calm him down.

When Daddy asked Gavin if he wanted Daddy to carry him, he immediately reached out for Daddy.  It was like another slap on the face because he would previously refuse Daddy at every request to be carried.  I felt like the worst mother in the world for abandoning her child just so I could enjoy 50 minutes of toddler-free massage.

Finally Gavin allowed me to carry him again, but he was so solemn and silent that it was unnerving.  He wouldn’t talk to me and he wouldn’t look at me, although he did let me carry him so it was a minor improvement.  We tried to entice him to go swimming - something he really loves - but he refused to get into the water.  We finally took him back to the room and gave him a bath and he slowly came back to his old self.

Although I promised that I would never leave him like that again - at least until I am certain he is okay with it - I did wonder what suddenly sparked the increased clinginess at 16 months.  After he got over his 1 year old clinginess, he had been so independent and confident that I thought the clingy phase was completely over.  So it came as a surprise to me to see him regressing - or so it seemed.

I started researching 16 month clinginess and discovered that it is actually a normal phase of child development.  I also discovered why Gavin so easily launches into a tantrum of late.  A lot of it has to do with your child’s increasing desires and inability to express their wills due to limitations in their language.  So how do you manage your child at this stage?

Well, since the clinginess is a normal part of development, just manage it like you have always done - be there for your child and eventually he will regain his independence again. 

As for the tantrums, Moxie recommends taking into consideration the age of your child, your child’s personality and what you want to accomplish.  Generally, she believes that for toddlers under two years of age, it is important to be there for your child and comfort them to help them get through the tantrum.  Once your child can express himself well enough, you can ask him if he prefers you to hug him or leave him alone.

Although Gavin has learned to sign, so far the only requests he makes are for milk and juice.  Also he signs other words, he does not use them to express a desire - or if he does, I clearly haven’t understood what he wants me to do.  For instance, sometimes he keeps signing “shoe” and I suspect there is something wrong with his shoe, but I don’t know what he wants me to do about it.  If I take them off, he wants them on, if I put them back on, he wants them off.

I guess we’re just going to have to persevere a little more through the “chicken and duck talk” phase a little longer.

Popularity: 12% [?]

After failing to clinch the Johnson and Johnson Baby of the Year competition, I decided to enter Gavin into some smaller competitions.  Well, mothers have been known to be quite blind when it comes to the subject of how gorgeous and adorable their babies are, so I guess my eyes have also been affected by the motherhood syndrome.  Every mother thinks her baby is the most Beautiful baby she has ever seen and it would seem I am no different.

I used to think myself quite impartial.  When other people were busy “oohing” over how adorable a particular newborn baby was, I would be standing back wondering what on earth they were talking about because the baby in question looked anything but cute and adorable to me.  And then I had Gavin.  Need I say more?

My mother, on the other hand, is about as impartial as they come.  She certainly had no qualms telling me that I was an ugly baby, so I guess not all mothers are blinded by the motherhood syndrome…

But I digress…  Not willing to believe that my son was not “cute” enough to win a prize, I sent some of his photos into the Parenthood magazine competitions. 

When I didn’t hear back from them, I was certainly starting to wonder if my eyes were playing tricks on me.  How could this face be passed over?  
 

I was sure some of the pictures of the other babies that won weren’t half as cute as my son.  The hubby just told me not to be “sour grapes” and forget about it.  Which I did, until my friend C messaged me today to tell me she saw Gavin’s picture in Parenthood. 

Apparently they didn’t pass over his picture after all.  He won the Pigeon competition, although they didn’t list exactly what the prizes were - just Pigeon products.  Anyway, this is the winning photo:

After winning this competition, I’ve been inspired to enter Gavin’s photo into more competitions.  Look of the Year (http://www.lookoftheyear.com) is an online Beauty contest for ordinary people who aspire to become a Model.  Although I’m not sure if I want Gavin to become a model, I thought it might be fun to enter.  Then again, he might be too Young for this particular competition.  Perhaps in a few more years…

Popularity: 8% [?]

I finally got around to getting a new set of glasses made after Gavin broke my spare set of glasses.  Although you can’t really see it in the photo below, the arm has been sheered off.  There was no repairing this one, unless I want to walk around with sticky-tape around my glasses…

Although I was originally going to head back to our regular optometrist in 1Utama, the hubby saw a great deal going at a shop called A-Look in the Alpha Angle.  Select any glasses frames at RM168 and above and get your lens for free - of course that’s just the basic lens and it only applies to people who have normal lenses.  Lucky for me, that included my lenses.

Since I felt my eyesight was fine, I just got them to remake a set of glasses based on the current prescription I have.  Surprisingly, they said they could get it done in two days.  I guess my lens power isn’t as high as I thought.

Their standard lenses came with UV protection but if you wanted optional features, like high-index lenses (so that you can get thinner lenses for a higher power and you don’t end up looking like you’ve got coke bottles for glasses), and computer protection, you had to pay extra for the Nikon lenses.  Since I sit in front of the computer on a regular nightly basis, I thought having computer protection was a good feature to have.

I ended up paying RM408 for my glasses and they were ready for pick up in two days.  I was pretty impressed because it takes our regular optometrist a week to get my glasses done.  The only other places that can provide this service more quickly are the spectacle shops in Japan.  They can do it in half an hour (so long as they have your lenses in stock).

Ironically, it was the shop owner who was more eager to get my glasses to me than I was to pick them up because they sent me an sms to remind me my glasses was ready for pick up.  Although they were ready on Monday evening, I wasn’t able to go back to get them until today because Gavin was too tired to go out the last couple of nights. 

When I went to pick up my glasses, they gave me a loyalty card and told me that if I bought three pairs of glasses in one year, I would be entitled to a free set of sunglasses.  When the shop assistant said that, I did a double take and asked, “In one year?” 

In my mind I was thinking, “You’ve got to be joking right?  Who buys three sets of glasses in one year?” 

Clearly my thoughts were written on my face because the shop assistant hastily added that the card was transferable and you could combine with your relatives and friends to make three sets of glasses.

Well, the only way I would ever make three sets of glasses is if I let Gavin play with my glasses again…

I related this to the hubby when I got back and he said, “Base, take a look at the frames in the shop.  It’s for hip people who change their glasses several times a year.”

Right.  Forgive me for being so unfashionable…  How could I have missed that when even the glasses case they gave me is so much more hip than the dawdy black ones (like the ones our grandparents carry around) from our regular optometrist?

Well, here’s a comparison between the old and new frames.   You tell me if I’ve sobered up or gotten more hip…  This is me with my old set:

This is me with the new set:

I thought the red frames would go well with my red hair - you can really see the colour of my hair very well in these photos, but you can check out the photo I posted up at my other blog.

My other reasons for selecting this particular set of frames were more of a practical nature rather than for fashion purposes.  Firstly, they are feather-light, which I really like.  Glasses that are too heavy make me feel like I have a headache.  Secondly, they are metal-frames which fit my face better because they come with nose pads that adapt better to my nose compared to the plastic frames. 

From a practical standpoint, I probably should also have gone for something with thicker joints so that they could withstand some rough handling by a toddler…

These days nobody really notices Mummy since they are usually too busy looking at my son.  Whenever we frequent the same restaurant, the staff only remember Gavin.  So, hip or unhip, I suppose it doesn’t really matter… 

Popularity: 6% [?]