Tag Archives: Parenthood

Silly Things We Say / Do #3

This happened long ago but is too funny not to share! I’ve told this tale to many of our friends, but no harm telling it again here right? It’s a story that I plan to share with Noah when he’s older too, so writing about it here will definitely serve as a reminder next time.

After Noah’s jaundice had more or less cleared up within his first month, we decided to switch paediatricians, mainly because the one at TMC was terribly crowded and each time we were there for Noah’s checkup, we spent more time waiting to see the doctor than actually seeing her. The parking was also a nightmare and we figured that we would be better off somewhere else.

At his first appointment with Dr Tay, we had to fill up the patient registration card and since I was carrying Noah, C was tasked to do the paperwork. Noah had just turned a month old and I assumed that C would have no trouble with all the forms and cards. I guess it’s true that when you assume, you make an ass out of ‘u’ and ‘me’!

When I called the clinic later that month to inquire about Noah’s next appointment, I was surprised to hear that there was no such patient registered at the clinic. There was a Noel, but no Noah. Yes, my brilliant husband, MBA and all, had spelt his own son’s name wrongly.

C denied that he had made the mistake, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps his handwriting was too messy and the nurse was the one who made the mistake. We checked the card on our next visit and there, printed clearly in C’s handwriting, was Noel Tan. No cursive handwriting or illegible scrawl to blame it on. He tried convincing me that I was the one who filled in the card and insisted that it wasn’t his handwriting, before claiming to have been having a conversation with his friend, Noel, just before that. Excuses, excuses.

So there you have it. My husband couldn’t even get his own son’s name right. Tsk tsk. Good thing I pre-printed Noah’s full name out for C to register his birth at the hospital, or Noah might have a totally different name now.

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Silly Things We Say / Do #2

This happened about two weeks ago during Noah’s growth spurt, in which he woke up every two or three hours for milk at night.

After yet another exhausting night, I was trying to go back to sleep at about 7am when C woke up, looked at me and said happily, “Hey! He slept through the night!”

Me: What? This is the fifth time I’ve woken up already! You just slept through it all…

A few days later, after I had gotten Noah to fall asleep after nursing him, C woke up and asked, “He just woke up for milk?”

Me: Yes, this is the second time I’ve woken up tonight already.

C: Huh? Second time only? I’ve woken up five times already! You just slept through it all…

Me: (thoroughly confused due to the lack of sleep) How’s that possible? I didn’t hear him and YOU did? How did you get him to go back to sleep without milk?

C: Hahaha.

It then dawned on me that he was trying to be funny by repeating what I said the previous night. Duh. There’s no way he would have been able to (a) hear Noah fussing if I didn’t and (b) get him to go back to sleep on his own!

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Silly Things We Say / Do #1

I’ve decided to start recording the silly things we say, do and encounter in our daily lives as parents. This is, I hope, the first of many amusing moments!

PS. S*** Happens really should be #1 but I didn’t think of starting this collection when I wrote that entry. Was too busy laughing! 😛

C was away for a business trip and as usual, I took photos of Noah and sent them to him, knowing that he was missing our little boy.

Here’s Noah, dressed for bed.

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C’s response to the photo was that he resembled the tiger in the cereal advertisement.

This morning, when he came back and was playing with Noah, he asked Noah:

“Are you a tiger? Are you a tiger in bed?”

Then, realising the blunder he had made, he looked at me and asked, “What does that even mean?”

I was too busy freaking out over just how wrong it sounded to reply him. *shudder*

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S*** Happens

The funniest (to me) thing happened to C just now. I passed the baby to him while he was lying on the bed, after telling him to spend more time with Noah since he’s leaving for another business trip tomorrow.

After a few minutes of cooing at C, Noah produced a loud farting sound, and C started yelling. Background information: We’ve been having some leaky diaper issues recently. I think it’s because Noah is in between sizes and I’ve been alternating between the S and M sized diapers for him, trying to figure out which size fits better. C however, told me to finish up all the small diapers first. His exact words? “A bit of leaking at home is okay what.” Haha. Yeah, right.

Anyway, I ran over to see why C wouldn’t stop yelling and saw a huge puddle of poo on his tee and our bed! I couldn’t stop laughing as I ran to get some tissues. I flung two sheets of tissue paper at him, realised that they couldn’t make any impact on the huge mess, and screamed, “I don’t know what to do!” as I giggled hysterically. C was, by this time, freaking out, while Noah had the most innocent look on his face.

Someone pooped on daddy? Not me!

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I took Noah off C and carried him to the changing table while C quickly removed his heavily-pooped on tee. I was more concerned about the mess on our bed and told C to change Noah so that I could change our sheets. Thank God our mattress protector saved our mattress from being stained! Time to get waterproof mattress protectors for our bed too, I think.

As C cleaned Noah up, he kept asking the babe, “How could you poop on daddy? Huh? How could you?”. Then, he asked me, “What kind of lousy diaper did you use?” In my defence, I reminded him that he was the one who told me to use up the smaller diapers first. He kept quiet for a while, then, “Where are the bigger diapers?” Haha. Mummy 1: Daddy 0.

What a mess! The sheets, mattress protector and C’s shirt are all in the wash now, and C is refusing to carry Noah at the moment. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault that you pooped on daddy. It’s mummy’s fault.”

C told me to wait till it happened to me, because I kept laughing when he was recounting the feeling of having poo flow down the side of his belly.

The best part? After C had finished cleaning him up, Noah looked at him, let another loud fart rip, and pooped all over the changing table. C yelled, “Nooooooo!” while I struggled to change the sheets, impaired by my uncontrollable laughter.

One day, when Noah is old enough to understand this post, I think he’d be pretty appalled that I actually blogged about it. But hey, parents are here to tell embarrassing stories about our kids, right? I think we’ve definitely earned the right to do so, after getting pooped on and cleaning up all the messes they’ve made. This was a story too funny to be left untold!

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