Husband Store

Husband Store

A store that sells husbands has just opened in New York City, where a woman may go to choose a husband. Among the instructions at the entrance is a description of how the store operates. You may visit the store ONLY ONCE ! There are six floors and the attributes of the men increase as the shopper ascends the flights. There is, however, a catch . . .. you may choose any man from a particular floor, or you may choose to go up a floor, but you cannot go back down except to exit the building! So, a woman goes to the Husband Store to find a husband . .

On the first floor the sign on the door reads: Floor 1 - These men have jobs and love the Lord.

The second floor sign reads: Floor 2 - These men have jobs, love the Lord, and love kids.

The third floor sign reads: Floor 3 - These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, and are extremely good looking. "Wow," she thinks, but feels compelled to keep going.

She goes to the fourth floor and sign reads: Floor 4 - These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, are drop- dead good looking and help with the housework. "Oh, mercy me!"she exclaims, "I can hardly stand it!"

Still, she goes to the fifth floor and sign reads: Floor 5 - These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, are drop- dead gorgeous, help with the housework, and have a strong romantic streak.

She is so tempted to stay, but she goes to the sixth floor and the sign reads: Floor 6 - You are visitor 4,363,012 to this floor. There are no men on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are impossible to please. Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store. Watch your step as you exit the building, and have a nice day!

The above excerpt arrived in my mailbox a few days ago, courtesy of my brother-in-law (in-grace?), Winston. My first instinct was to forward this email to everyone I know, hoping to share a good laugh with them.

My mind sobered shortly after, as I pondered upon the hometruth interwoven into this tale. I have a husband who loves the Lord, holds a job, takes care of our son when I'm not around, doesn't mind doing housework, and how often do I thank him? Not often enough, I'd say.

So William, here I just want to tell you I really appreciate all you do for me, and I'm sorry for the times I found fault with you, or misunderstood you. I want to thank you for being very, very patient with me. You have been more a husband to me than I have been a wife to you (know what I mean?). I love you very much!

Dear Lord Jesus, help remind me not to take family for granted. Help slow me down to show care and love to those around me. Thank You for being patient with me too, Jesus. I love and adore You!

Blog, Blog, Blog...

I had been visiting my friends' blogs quite regularly. The more I frequented their blogs, the more I felt the sore lacking of an element in mine... visual aid in the simple form of... pictures. So now I have edited all my previous entries by adding a picture for each post, although I am a self-professed "word" person. My friend taught me how to do it, and it was hilariously easy (dunno why I didn't figure it out myself).

Why do I blog, and where/what's my motivation? For Joseph. Besides journaling about significant events encircling his early young life, I share my own thoughts, as well as William's role (albeit a silent one), in "sketching" these experiences into precious legacy of tangible form for Joseph.

You see, I would dearly like Joseph to know who his parents are. As in, not just the people who conceived and brought him into this world, but who we are as A Person. Not just the authority figure in his life, who could come very close to being labelled "spoilsport" because many times we may need to say "No" to his idea of good fun, but for him to know us as An Individual. I would like Joseph to get to know us with interest and curiosity, as he would A Friend.

For most of the dads and mums in the era of our own parents, the need to befriend and understand children was totally unheard of. Their role was always foremost as a provider, i.e. the one who fed you, all else mattered little. The general mentality of parents back then was to eagerly await the day these pesky kids grow up, leave school, get a job, and start "payback" time (repaying them in monetary form for all the hardship they went through in bringing up children) . I must emphasise that I'm not saying every parent was like that in those days, many were, but not all.

Anyway, as the good old saying goes, times have changed. Most parents want to bond with their children, they now see the need to establish a viable relationship with their offspring. Communication breakdown arising from "generation gap" are problems from quite a distant past, it would probably become an obsolete term soon, by the way things are going now.

However, as much as I yearn for a close relationship with my son, I crave more that he should walk in closer fellowship with Jesus than us, his parents. To understand the love of his Father God in heaven, to know that Jesus is his health and healing, to live daily by the Lord's grace, to depend constantly on His strength and wisdom, to follow after his Shepherd's leading always, all these are far more valuable to me than anything else. My dear Jesus, may Joseph hunger for more of You, and love You deeply. Thank You for loving him first. I love you my faithful Lord, my Refuge and my present help in time of need. You are deserving of all worship and praise, hallelujah!

Moving On

Joseph saw his paediatrician last Thursday. All is in good order, his airways are clear, and his medication is reduced to twice daily. The ventolin inhaler (puff) may be discontinued once the cough totally disappears, but the flixotide inhaler (puff) has to be used for the next two or three more months. I don't mind. Anything to prevent a recurring of what just happened recently. Now I look back with relief, but to be sure, I wasn't this carefree while I was going through it!

As for attending school, I have applied for a temporary withdrawal. Not because I disbelieve the benefits listed out in one of my previous posts, but because I want to let him have a short rest. You see, at times he still has this residual cough, so I don't think it's fair to expose him to the other children in the centre. Plus, the maintenance drug he's on would help strengthen his lungs, so I want him to recuperate fully before mingling with small crowds of little children.

So Joseph, you are going to face mummy all day long, but with a little variation, mummy plan to wheel you out daily to break the boredom. I understand you are a growing toddler with different needs now, including the need to be exposed to external stimuli. A ride in your pram, a brief stroll around our neighbourhood, an occasional trip to Harbourfront or Tiong Bahru Plaza, that should do it for now.

Plans for a second baby is also temporarily shelved for the moment because, to be honest, I felt a restraint (in my spirit) when I wanted to "try" for another child a couple of months back. I definitely would not go ahead without the Lord's shalom peace upon me. So my dear Jesus, it's Your call, Your plan, Your timing. I submit my will under Yours, my loving Shepherd.

An Ordeal

After a week, Joseph seemed to have adjusted quite well to his school. He only cried in the morning when we reached the entrance, after which he would be quickly whisked off to wash his hands before partaking of the breakfast provided there, and his tears instantly ceased. His teachers also remarked that Joseph doesn't cry in class anymore and has shown interest in his surroundings instead.

All was going well, till Wednesday 8 March. Joseph began to have a fever in the evening. I fed him some panadol syrup but the fever was still there the next day. I then called up his school to inform them about Joseph being unwell and brought him to see a doctor. In the absence of a cough or runny nose, a urine test was done to exclude urine infection. The result yielded negative reading, so the doctor ruled that it was a viral fever. We went home after getting some medicine.

Two days later he started coughing, while still having the fever. I rummaged in my fridge and found his cough syrup. I faithfully gave the medicine on time, but by Sunday he began to refuse milk feeds. As his body burned with high fever, he slept most of the time. I had by now been giving him cold compresses day and night, whenever the thermometer registered a reading of 39C or more.

The next day, his fever remained high, his cough was still ever present with copious amount of phlegm, his condition did not show any improvement. Plus, he hasn't taken much milk feeds or fluids, and the fact that he slept so much made me a little worried. William and I brought him to the Children's Emergency Dept early on Monday morning. After a blood test, urine test and chest x-ray, the doctor pronounced that Joseph's condition "wasn't too bad". The blood and urine test revealed a viral picture, and his x-ray was "quite clear". He may be warded for an i/v infusion (due to poor feeding) , but otherwise his medication would not be much different. So we could either get him admitted or try feeding him orally at home, while still continuing with our medication. Obviously, we opted for the less inconvenient choice and went home with some more medicine.

So keen was I to avoid hospitalization, that I force-fed Joseph his milk feeds with a syringe. Well, it seemed to work, that evening he had the strength to wander around the house and play with his toys. Both William and I thought Joseph was well on the road to recovery.

That night, as I checked on him, he was breathing at a much faster rate than usual. His little chest rose and fell as rapidly as a runner would, after finishing a race. I decided then that I would bring him to the doctor again the next day. Lo and behold! When Joseph awoke the next morning, he actually drank his milk and was again playing with his toys. Alright, so he's showing signs of improvement now. Okay, no visit to the doctor's today after all.

Joseph laid down for a nap after his second milk feed at 11am. When I checked on him a few minutes later, he had very noisy breathing and I noticed his fingers and toes were quite cold and had a purplish hue. I started to panic. I didn't understand why Joseph kept having those transient moments of wellness, only to sink further after that. I called William at once and told him to take half-day leave, Joseph was very unwell and needed to go to hospital immediately.

We arrived at the Children's Emergency Dept, and after being grilled about Joseph's condition and etc, they treated and stabilised him there before sending him up to the ward. At the ward, Joseph was feeling better after his medicine a short while ago so he looked alert and active again. The doctor wasn't totally convinced that Joseph needed an i/v drip but obliged after we insisted. He also downplayed the seriousness of Joseph's condition and assured us there was nothing to worry about. In my heart, I doubted the competency of this young ward doctor.

So the plan of management was for Joseph to have nebulisation every 2 hours. By evening, his cough was still very chesty. A doctor came to review his condition and said that the 2 hourly nebulisation was to continue since there wasn't any improvement. Till the rest of the night, Joseph just kept having his 2 hourly medication.

In the wee hours of the next morning, I observed that Joseph was getting worse instead of better. He seemed to be labouring hard to draw in breath. I informed the on-call doctor and she said she would check on him again. At 7am, another senior doctor came to see Joseph and announced that he had to be transferred to the high-depency room in Paediatric ICU.

I lost it there and then, tears rolled down my cheeks as I asked the doctor for further explainations. She said that Joseph was very exhausted now from trying to breathe air into his congested lungs, throughout the night. She wants to hook him up to a machine that would help him breathe and deliver oxygen into his lungs spontaneously, without much effort on Joseph's part.

The transfer was done swiftly, and I was told to wait outside Joseph's room while they "settled" him down. Oh yeah, I know what that means. It means they're connecting all kinds of tubings/lines to him and doing blood-taking and/or other hurtful things and they don't want me to see it. I stood obediently outside his door, and heard Joseph's wails and cries. My own tears ran fast and furious, as though the Hoover Dam broke.

Finally the ICU staff finished whatever they had to do and I was allowed to enter Joseph's room. There he laid, a tiny form, eyes shut and motionless, I guess because he was tired after his struggles with the ICU staff. To his right was the trusty little machine that would keep his lungs well-oxygenated. To his left was the monitor screen with various information: his heart beat, breathing rate, oxygen saturation, ECG pattern. I called out Joseph's name softly, his mouth emitted a small sound and he stirred ever so slightly, then he was all quiet again. Oh my sweet baby, mummy is so sorry you went through all these!

By now I had informed William who was at work, and he took urgent leave for the rest of the week. I was trying hard to be strong and not cry, I informed my church care group leader about the latest happening and requested that he keep the whole family in prayer. Other friends who knew about Joseph's hospitalization sms-ed to check on his progress and we told them to also prayer for us.

That day, Joseph had many visitors. Poh Poh, Edmund and Stephanie dropped in, so did William's boss and a colleague. Two of his teachers came too, which I had not expected.

Now Joseph needed to continue his nebulisation every 4 hourly. I'm glad because that meant he'd have less interrupted rest and sleep. The ICU staff had also inserted a tube through Joseph's nose into his stomach so they can feed him his medicine directly without waking him or forcing him to swallow.

The next day, the ICU doctor decided that Joseph can be transferred back to the general ward again. He doesn't need the machine to assist him in his breathing anymore. Praise the Lord! I look forward to seeing him get better and stronger.

Joseph remain warded for the next four days, before finally being discharged on Monday 20 march. He has to continue taking medication at home till his follow-up appointment in the outpatient clinic three days later. I am just so grateful to the Lord, it could have been a longer hospitalization, but because of everyone's prayer and His faithfulness, Joseph was only warded for six days. Thank God for Pastor Mark, who made a trip down to lay hands on Joseph after hearing about him falling ill, from Don.

While Joseph was in the ICU, I kept blaming myself for his predicament. Should I have delayed sending him to school? Was I not vigilant enough in taking care of him? Why did I not admit him to the ward that first visit to CED? Did I so much wanted to believe he is recovering that I read too much into his moments of wellness? I kept kicking myself over what happened but the Lord was merciful. I bumped into a paediatrician Dr Daniel Goh, who specialised in respiratory medicine, I knew him when I used to work in the hospital. He actually stopped to talk with me for not a few minutes, he explained at length that a viral lung infection would run its course not matter how you try to intervene. Nothing that I or any doctor/nurse did would have changed anything, especially so in boys because their breathing tubes are narrower than girls'. His words calmed me down considerably, and I did not cry as much as before. I'm so thankful that he took time to explain that I was not to blame in any way, no one is. Even the transient moments of wellness was part of the natural process, no one could tell when it was going to go which direction.

Lord Jesus, I just want to thank You, for placing people around us, church friends who have shown a great deal of care and support, and others who have prayed for us faithfully. You are our Healer and Deliverer, I know You love Joseph and would see him through fire and storms, increase my faith even as this episode is put behind us forever, amen!

Many Things To Learn

After three days' orientation, I have my bearings somewhat. First of all, it was not what I thought it would be. I had imagined Joseph getting into the swing of things quite immediately, following the teachers around and picking up cues from his little fellow citizens, i.e. they jump, he jumps, they sing, he sings. The truth proved to be otherwise.

He cried off and on during the first two days, his eyes roamed the room constantly, looking for a familiar figure that would be me. Instead of throwing his whole self into the activities, he threw a few tantrums, both gentle and loud types. He shunned sitting on the floor with his friends, preferring instead to plonk himself on my lap while the teacher did story-telling, nursery rhymes, or the like.

I was slightly comforted to see that there were three other newly-enrolled children behaving in much the same manner. All displayed the same apprehension and uncertainty, wrought in a strange new surrounding. Yay, Joseph wasn't the one who cried loudest and longest! Ha ha!

Another observation I made was that the children "misbehaved" in the same way too. At home, I was often vexed by Joseph's "bad" habits: throwing items like toys onto the floor, pushing my (tea)trolley around or even playing with the empty laundry basket. Anything (whatever shape or size) within his grasp will almost certainly end up being an object for him to test out the principle of gravity followed by noise and bounce.

I had disciplined Joseph severely before, at times hitting him in my attempt to stop this misdemeanour. Many friends told me that all toddlers like to throw things and are curious to touch every item within reach. I had supposed that they were just patronising me, they were only attempting to make me feel better, therefore I was convinced that Joseph was exceptionally "mischievous" in this area and so prompt punishment had to be meted out.

Thus began my first guilt trip when I saw similar habits, played many times over before my very eyes. As though prompted by some unseen orchestrating hands, these toddlers all knew their part by heart. A high-arm throw here, a quick chew on a piece of toy there. Do the "ignore adult's voice" act and continue exploring those forbidden items on these beckoning shelves by the wall.

Alright, alright, I already realised I had been too harsh with Joseph. I apologised to him, and purposed within myself that I would stop being a too-strict disciplinarian. Lord Jesus, help me be a gracious parent, amen.

Anyway, on the third day, the teachers encouraged this little group of hawk-like parents to stop hovering over our precious tot. Give the children a chance to blend in. Okay, I can do that. No problem. What we need to do is just stay out of sight. Tell our children that we are coming back later and do not let them lay eyes on us, while we peep at them from behind a glass window or book cupboard. Surprise, surprise! This brilliant move clearly illustrated the old saying: out of sight, out of mind. Our children could actually survive without us being in the same room with them! The teachers were also able to coax more cooperation out of these children with their parents conveniently out of the way...

Okay, I've got to learn to stop fussing over Joseph, and let him grow. I just bought him a drinking cup (with straw) because he was the only child still drinking water from his bottle with teat, while others were already using ordinary cups (without an attached straw). Most of the toddlers could self-feed, but Joseph is now not able to hold his spoon properly yet. See how a doting mum can hinder her own child's progress! Yes, I was still spoon-feeding Joseph, but now I'm starting to train him to self-feed at home too.

There are many more things for me to learn and discover, but no condemnation shall abide in me. Thank You, Lord, for Your patience and faithfulness to me. I am the righteousness of God in Christ Jesus. Hallelujah!