...and then there were two!: Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus and Confinement Aunties are from Hell

It's officially day 26 of my ~~incarceration~~ confinement and so far, I have resisted counting down the days until now because I can now count the days down on one hand. It's five more days to freeeeedom...! *William Wallace ROAR*

Confinement has not been fun. Wait. Let me rephrase that. It has been a pure, unadulterated, like watching Singapore Idol on repeat, kind of torture.

I mean no disrespect to our confinement auntie who's just doing her job (and who actually cooks a pretty mean ginger cod fish), but honestly, is this woman on crack or something?

1. Thou shalt not bathe

Ah, my biggest beef with this whole confinement nonsense. According to confinement nazi, I can't bathe or wash my hair. Now that's really weird because in one of my pregnancy books, one of the things recommended to postpartum mothers is a nice, long, hot soak in the tub! So technically, shouldn't these women be crawling out of the tub, doubled over in arthritic pain? Tut tut. These editors. They're trying to kill us all!

For DN's birth, I think I managed a week without showering or washing my hair. My hair was so clumpy I felt like Bob Marley. Not cool. Around day 14 I caved in, threw all caution to the wind (and all the bathing herbs into the bin) and enjoyed my regular showers again. For this birth, I didn't bother messing about at all and showered (yes, hair and all!) daily in the hospital. I figured I'd already sealed my arthritic fate when I broke the no-bathing-rule the first time, so I might as well do things properly this time (and be clean at it!) and go out with a bang.

After checking with many friends, it looks like I'm not the only one taking illegal showers. If confinement nazi is right, in about 30 years, there'll be a whole generation of old ladies walking around like Quasimodo, cursing the world with gnarled and shrivelled hands.

Except for PF, nobody here knows I've been sneaking in those showers. I think. Er, I hope!

I've been diligently bathing with herbs on alternate days, and having illegal showers on the others. I think confinement nazi knows about those illegal showers though, because I swear, she tried to kill me. Good thing I tested the pail of herbal water she prepared for me the first time. If I had just poured that on myself, PF would have had to rush me to A&E. I was this close to cooking myself! Geez.

A friend is convinced that all this must-bathe-with-herbs-and-very-hot-water-mumbo-jumbo is just a front. What all confinement aunties really want to do is cook their charges. Herbs for bathing? Nope. They're really herbs for MARINATING you. Jamu massage to release "wind"? Nope, just a cover. They're TENDERISING the meat, i.e. you. And when your confinement auntie suggests that you go sit in the oven? Time to get the hell out of there honey!

2. Thou shalt dress for winter

When we brought DS to the PD for her 1-week check-up, I saw another mom with her little newborn. The poor girl (mother, not baby) went the whole hog - woolly hat, sweat pants, long-sleeved tee, hoodie, socks and trainers. The only things missing were gloves and skis. Strangely enough, she didn't look miserable! I think it's just me. I'm being a real brat and rebel about this confinement thing.

I weighed my two options. One, be comfortable in bare feet and sleeveless tees, or two, be grumpy in a cardigan and socks. Coupled with a bit of the postnatal blues, number two was the more dangerous option because it might involve me and (someone else's) murder. So I chose option one and have been very happy in bare feet.

3. Thou shalt not starve

Okay, this is one part of confinement that I'm actually enjoying, heh. Pan fried threadfin? Yes please! Steamed pomfret? Okay! Vinegared pork? Bring it onnn!

Let's just say I'm definitely not starving over here. In fact, I feel rather like one of those french geese being reared for foie gras. (Hmmm... that confinement-auntie-cooking-her-charge conspiracy theory is becoming more and more plausible...) Confinement nazi gives me rice like it's going out of fashion and my gosh, you should see the amount of protein I eat everyday. It's amazing I don't look like Jojo Sinclair yet.

What I had for a weekday lunch last week - pan fried threadfin, stir fried vege, vinegared pork, sesame oil pork loin and potato, carrot and pork soup.

4. Thou shalt not leave the house

ARGHHHHH...!!! The penultimate confinement torture because it's impossible to cheat on this! Except for two trips to the paediatrician and one trip to the gynae, I've really been stuck in the flat for 26 days. OH. EM. GEE. I'm going bonkers. With DN, I served my confinement at my mom's and so, was allowed out for little jaunts to the shopping centre nearby. I'm not staying with her this time round so, no dice. :(

The only good thing that has come out of this is, from now on, I'm going to be the most law abiding person I know. (Scared already!)

So if you can't go out, bring the "out" to you I say! Over the past 4 weeks, kind friends (and PF) have brought over tidings of joy in the form of donuts...