For the benefit of those who don't know what neh neh poks are (let me guess - you probably either were born in the 90s or are not Singaporean?), here:
|That's me, yes. I'm not smiling because hello? Who smiles when their boobies are on display?|
So yeah. The purpose of this post is not so much to refresh your bank of words from your stash of childhood memories (but while we're add it, how about orh orh, pom pom, gai gai and kaka?), but to tell you the story about mine.
That's right, mine. My neh neh poks.
The fact that they are on my body doesn't seem to have any effect on anyone else. No one else in my family recognises that; they've all laid claim to my neh neh poks. Allow me to illustrate.
My almost 2-year old. The one I've been trying to wean. We're doing pretty good. If she doesn't ask to be nursed, I don't nurse her. She attacks me sometimes in the night thought, and she can be very persuasive.
Sometimes when I'm changing, I turn around and I see her looking at me with a forlorn look in her eyes. Sometimes she's openly gawking at me with an open mouth. Sorry, Calla, but they are mine, no matter how much you flutter your eyelashes at me.
And then there is Poppy, the 5.5 year old, who looks at her sister at my chest (sorry, neh neh poks), and asks if she can have a go, and scowls when I say no. Which sparks off a whole "It's not fair!" situation. She's forgotten that she had exclusive access to my neh neh poks for 17 whole months before she pushed me (ok, them) away.
Sorry, Poppy, you've had your share of them, and now they are mine.
And then, waiting patiently in the shadows, is the husband. Come on ladies, don't pretend you don't have these things (husbands, not neh neh poks).
Hmmm. This is slightly more tricky. But, still, sorry, Husband, mine.
I look forward to the day when I can finally have my neh neh poks back to do whatever I want to with. Not that I have anything in particular to do with them. But that's the beauty of it (it as in the situation, not it as in them, my neh neh poks). Nothing. To let them simply be free of responsibilities! Neh neh pok freedom! Yay!*
Disclaimer: not to be mistaken with my non-present urge to join a nudist colony.
This is a prelude to my breastfeeding story where I will share about why I've breastfed for a grand total of (hold your breath, ladies) 39 months - in two instalments, but still. My post will join 23 other mums who will share their breastfeeding story here, on a blog train hosted by Mad Psych Mum. From 1 week to 40+ months, find out why we did it, what kept us going and what we wished we had done instead.
Till then, peace out and goodnight, neh neh poks of the world.
Oh by the way, hook up with me on Facebook and find out all that's been happening in the land of the Gingerbreadmum. Sorry no, it's not always neh neh pok related.
And if you've enjoyed these drawings, here are more!
If you're wondering about the drawings: I've so been inspired by this mum. Her writing is hilarious and her drawings sometimes make me pee in my pants. But before you go all copycat-kiss-the-rat on me, you may like to read her FAQ page where she states that she 'is not the first ever human to draw pictures', and that she too was inspired by and accused of copying someone else.