Daddee Yah!

A working Daddee learning to cope in a big big world

And.. a… ONE!
Getting ready

And.. a.. TWO!
And.. a.. Hey I am up!

On my ass!

Happy First Birthday, Caleb!

Soon you will be walking, and running, and we’d be chasing…..!

So I was in the bathroom a few days before, checking out my physique, topless.

Caitlin walks in, and asked what the heck I was doing.

I decided to be honest.

“Daddee’s looking at the lines on my body**”.

“Lines? What lines?”

“These lines” point at the curved lines beneath what used to be spectacular pecs*. “Daddee’s getting fat.”

Now she is telling people she doesn’t wanna eat so much because she doesn’t wanna get fat- “Otherwise I will get lines on my body like Daddee…”

Yeah thanks kiddo.

* Okay I exaggerate.

** The lines look like bra-underwire marks on my body now- this, I am not exaggerating. I will spare you the photos lest you cannot look at me in the face the next time we meet…. or vice versa.

It’s a combo of gravity, fat, and the lack of youth.

I am in trouble now….

For a few weeks now, Caitlin’s been complaining about her pyjamas. Not the typical modes of complaints we know, when we adults hear the verb complain. Nonetheless, it had only recently occurred to me what the implications are*.

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Caitlin has always been a little taller than average for her age.

One day she came up to me all serious and asked “Daddee, am I tall?”

“Yes darling, you are considered tall for your age. Why?”

“I heard Grandma and Mummee telling their friends and say that I am tall.. and I don’t like when they laugh at me..”

“They are not laughing at you; why would you think that?”


“It’s ok, maybe even good, that you are tall for your age. You know how you are in Pre-3 class where your friends are at least more than a year older than you?”


“Well, even though you may be the youngest there at least you are not the shortest.”

“I guess… but I don’t like it when they laugh at me..”

“They are not laughing at you, they are just saying that you are. Well, now that you are tall, don’t you think that it’s good, that you can reach for things by yourself now? You can almost touch the light switches now when you jump, wash your hands now without a stool, you feet now being able to reach the ground when you cycle?”

“I guess…”


Years ago when I was an adolescent I remember a conversation my parents had with Dr Pixie. I can’t recall how the topic was brought up, but it revolved around someone who was still quite short for his/her age, and Dr Pixie said there was something- either a shot or taken orally (hormones?) that can assist this kid in a growth spurt.

“Wouldn’t that just make him grow faster, rather than taller (eventually)?” I asked.

Dr Pixie looked at me, almost looking glad that someone asked that. “Good question” she said readily, “that could very well be the case- yes”- to which my brother gave me a thumbs-up “Can be a doctor!”

Dr Pixie proceeded to offer that ultimately it was still one’s genetics that determined a person’s height.

I am happy that Caitlin is tall for her age- she is not too tall, just that she therefore appears older than her age. Call me discriminating, but I’d prefer her to ultimately be an average height woman. I have seen really tall ladies and I do know they have trouble finding men!

Would I personally be intimidated about dating a taller woman? Possibly. I say this because I suppose I’d never approached and chat up anyone taller than I!

There’s something I just revealed about myself; well we also know that I am not a doctor, as much as I’d like to be :)

I promised a follow-up on what else Caitlin got for Christmas. You will excuse me for getting sidetracked due to the arrival of her younger brother Caleb :)

So here it is :)

Chilling out at Hyde Park while the world was on last minute Christmas eve rush…
Spotted the Christmas pressie?
So I’ve mentioned that we prefer to get Caitlin toys that at least contain some form of educational values.
From her recent birthday she’s received a jigsaw puzzle that, at times, have kept her quite happily occupied for some time. I have secretly watched play & her piece them together before, & she does enjoy the achievement of completing it on her own.
So, you guessed it, I bought her another similar jigsaw toy. Okay this Daddee isn’t very original sometimes, and would prefer to play it safe mostly!

This one is rather unique though.

First, the size of it already excited even this Daddee. It’s not overly big, but it is does require stretching across the floor to lay it out.

But the most interesting feature of this puzzle is the 3D aspect of it. There are pieces that slot together at 90 degrees, effectively building structures that then sit on pre-cut slots on the flat “playground”. These are the expected structures of the merry-go-around as Caitlin calls it, ferris wheel, hotdog stands, and figurines of kids doing stuff on the park.


After assembly Daddee & Caitlin would pretend we were actually in the park / fairground & walk along the path & visit the stalls, etc :)

I arrived Sydney to be with Mummee for his birth. It was an overnight flight, arriving Sydney at 0935-ish. Unbuckled my seat belts, put on my backpack, joined the rest of cattle-class waiting to disembark.

Switched on my mobile, to find 2 text messages.

1. Water broke overnight, going to hospital..
2. Got sent home to monitor, come home first..

.. or words to that effect. Mummee and I jested afterwards what I would have done if I had only received the first message…

Mummee’s water broke around 2am on Sunday. Her and mum-inlaw went straight to the hospital. I was later told that they were told to go home but to keep a close eye on things. I arrived later that morning, and Mummee was having sporadic gushes- water was still coming out in that fashion. Given it was already so many hours since, we debated and decided to call the hospital.

Advised to go in again, Mummee was then advised instead to stay. This was late in the afternoon already. The midwife suggested that inducing was going to be required, given Mummee’s water broke so many hours ago already. A decision was then made to induce her at 7am the next day. Daddee remained and slept on the spare fold-out mattress on the floor, after swatting 2 cockroaches, mind you. I don’t know how many else ran across my chest on the floor- remember I wasn’t able to sleep much on the crowded flight and this was my first chance for some serious shut-eye.

I was awaken by chatter. The midwives were in getting ready to begin while I was still on the floor in the most uncompromising manner. I guess they see this all the time; either that or I am a man, and this is a women’s hospital after all- men don’t exist in this pocket of the universe.

Inducement started, contractions really came on strong, as compared to Caitlin’s experience. Again, so strong that epidural was required. Where Caitlin took some 7-8 hours before she was ready to meet us, Caleb only took some 2 hours. And I guess practise makes perfect; Mummee really needed to only push 2-3 times and Caleb was out…


By the way, practise was used sarcastically. Mummee is adamant we are stopping at two kids.

Because Mummee’s water broke so many hours ago, Caleb’s skin is still somewhat dry- to this layman’s deduction. I was surprised the midwives didn’t seem to think it was an issue (that the water broke so many hours ago). They advise to use grapeseed oil to moisturise Caleb’s skin- yes grapeseed oil, that found not in the baby section of the supermarket, but in the cooking section.


Little man is looking a little too scrawny for my liking, but the ladies at the breastfeeding support unit assures us that they usually drop slightly in weight, and then starts gaining from 2nd week onwards…

For an Australian public hospital, I feel the support given by the Randwick Hospital for Women is actually a lot better than that of a Malaysian private hospital. And this is only from a man’s point of view, for a women’s hospital.


I hope his looks changes soon, this isn’t a very good looking boy at the moment! But like older sister Caitlin, I am sure he will soon look different and better! At least be a lot better looking than his old man!

Related posts:

Caleb is here!
That’s more than three quarter pounders!
Baby names
.. and baby makes 4..

“Deh-deeeeeh.. deh-neh-neeeeh.. neh-neh-neh… I can’t get no… satisfaction….”


“Yes?” [ Perhaps she isn’t ready for Daddee’s shower-singing ]

“I need to Ngg Ngg!!” (That’s the verb for pooping)

[ Uh-oh, I am in the shower, & the only available help is downstairs NOT within shouting earshot ] I stop what I am doing, open the translucent shower door, wrap my towel around my waist, & open the door to “rescue” her urgency.

I lead her into the bathroom toilet, pull down her pants, & lift her onto the toddler-toilet-seat equipped toilet.

Her eyes are on my manly-man chest, then darts left & right on my nipples, then drops a little to my six-pack stomachOK OK I lie, but you get the point. She’s very rarely seen me topless; only when we go swimming but even then she is too busy splashing & have not needed to face me directly like this.

At this time my mind races to plan the next steps. [ OK, while she ngg-ngg’s, I will dash back into the shower to finish off, hopefully by the time I towel off, she’d be done, then I can rinse her off (at least I’d be dry), get her pants back on, & usher her outta here for my quick getting-dressed too ]

Which I did (dash back into the shower & close the screen). But of course you already know things didn’t pan out that way. She was done before I was.

“Daddee I have finished!” And proceeds to slowly climb down from the toilet.

Yikes. “Daddee’s not finished yet, can you wait for Daddee a little while longer?”

“Okaaaayyyy….” Along with the toddler-toilet-seat, we also got her a small step stool for her to easily get on & off the toilet. It also doubles up as a small stool to sit /semi-squat on if one needs to wash stuff on the floor.

I can see this through the translucent screen: She pulls up this stool, positions it facing squarely at the shower screen door, & sits legs closed hands on her lap, as if posing for a portrait. Except she is naked waist down, waiting for Daddee as instructed. There is no escape for this butt-naked Daddee now.

As discretely & swiftly as I could, I slide the door open just wide enough for me to reach my towel on the rack near the door. You guessed it, her gaze drops trying to steal a peek at my nether regions; to the extent she leans to the side for a better view.

I feel so dirty.

On this issue of whether one’s kid(s) should see the parents naked, I for one am not sure where I stand on this, or whether it should be tackled at all- ie, just NEVER appear nude at all in front of the kids, regardless of gender of the exposer and the exposee.

I know my elder brother, for example, have showered, or at least appeared nude infront of at least one of his kids when they were toddlers.

I have also heard of dads who bathe together with the kids in, say, the bathtub, again while they were toddlers. I know this because there were jokes where the toddler, probably still at the not-speaking age yet, picking at the dad’s pubes.

What is your take on this issue? Do you strut around naked infront of your kid? Not be so uptight about being walked-in? Bathe with the little man / woman?