The curse of the working mommy is...

...a tummy. That unsightly blubbery bulge you have to suck in every time you wear Lycra.

I know officially we tell people it’s a war scar to be proud of. I bore a child/children. “Pregnancy was the most incredible experience I’ve ever had. So I’ll take the stretch marks. I’ll take the sagging boobs. I’ll take the cellulite I can never get rid of,” said Jessica Alba in Self magazine. Sure Jess. And where are those stretch marks and cellulite pray tell? Those? Please!

I love being a mom as much as Jess does but the truth is I would much rather be one without a lower tummy that walks ahead of the rest of me.

My mom was a svelte 48kg with a 23-inch waist line when she married my dad. Then kids happened to her. With each successive child, she kept more of her post-baby weight until she was a 20kg heavier than when she started. I think after that she just thought ‘Screw it’ and gave up.

Now, I swore I wouldn’t let that happen to me. I want to be a yummy mummy – or at least one that looked reasonably palatable.

But 19 months on, I am still looking down at my squishy bits. A desk job and toddler do nothing for your figure, I tell you.

My butt is glued to the chair most days (that’s another body part that is growing its own zip code!). I eat at my desk so I can finish up early to rush home to my son. Dinners are usually after 9pm when the prince has gone to bed. And then it’s bedtime for me too. Which part of this spells weight loss and tight abs?

So I’m resigned to the fact that these bits are here to stay. In fact, I’ve grown quite fond of them. Maybe when the boy goes to college. Then I’ll lipo myself into shape and go on a cruise.

Stop already!

If I wrote the rules on Facebook, you know what I would ban? Parents – specifically parents who go on and on about their kids.

I can accept it if Junior achieved a significant milestone and you want to share it with the world. First steps, first words, first tooth, graduation from kindergarten (though I totally don’t get that...but ask me again when my son gets to that stage and I may feel differently), passing exams with flying colours, made school prefect...

A period of illness followed by news of recovery are acceptable as are funny anecdotes of the dardnest things she said (a chuckle is always good). The occasional mundane but heart warming post about how much you love the princess is also ok lah – occasional being the operative word here.

Not so ok are daily blow-by-blow accounts of the little bub’s every move. “Oh, he pooped. Oh, he’s turning left and now right. Oh, he smiled.” The painful but honest truth is that NOBODY cares.

If you got nothing interesting to say, don’t say it! Just post up photos or videos and let the pictures do the talking. I promise you, you will get more ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ than all that nonsense rambling. And people will like you more...and maybe even unblock you.

Night out with Estee Lauder

I've always found The Sultan Abdul Samad building to be beautiful. But last Tuesday it was positively breathtaking as Estee Lauder pulled off an incredible stunt that saw the KL landmark bathed in pink in conjunction with the brand's 2010 breast cancer awareness campaign.

Pretty in pink

Mr. Airique Soo (Managing Director, Hwa Tai Industries Berhad), Mr. Michael Liew (Chairman, Estee Lauder Companies Breast Cancer Awareness Campaign Committee 2010), Mr. Loo Kai Nan (Managing Director, Suria Meriang Sdn Bhd), Yang Berhormat Senator Datuk Maglin D’Cruz (Deputy Minister II of Information, Communication and Culture) and Puan Zuraidah Mohd Said (Chief Executive Officer, Menara Kuala Lumpur)

Dato' Yasmin Yusoff in matching pink

Guests and media (try to spot the Her World team!)

Lovey dovey

I’ve been married for all of five years so I don’t consider myself much of an expert. Practical person that I am, I’ve never bought into the romance song-and-dance much anyway. I would, in all honesty, be ecstatic if my husband bought me a vacuum cleaner for Christmas instead of diamond earrings! Really!

The greatest love stories for me are those that survive the mundane and dull, the rigours of day-to-day living, the gradual softening of the middle and slackening of everything else. And when life is done with them, they still say it’s been the best ride.

We would be so lucky if my husband and I could have a story like Danny and Annie’s. Standby the tissues before you click here to watch it (http://vimeo.com/12562270).

Fashion victim

The other day I was caught in traffic behind a woman on a motorbike flashing her b**t crack. And since I was driving, I had no choice but to keep my eyes on the road – and the unintentional flasher. It was a long, long drive.

I’m sure she had woken up that morning, pulled on her jeans, looked herself in the mirror and thought she looked pretty darn good. I’m sure she didn’t realise that her bits and bobs were a mere half inch away from being a public figure. And I’m sure those jeans (a low slung hipster, if I’m not mistaken) were either a size too small or just not the right fit for someone with her...a-hem...assets.

See, but she’s not alone in playing fashion victim is she? Come on, admit it! At some point you’ve been guilty of unwitting indecent exposure like VPL (visible panty line), peeping underwear, too-tight, too-sheer, too-whatever clothes, etc.

Now, I’m no shoe girl. I could get by with five pairs, I think. But I stubbornly wobble around in wedges even though I’ve to carry my 12kg son simply because my calves look fat in flats and sandals. I can’t even begin to tell you the strain this puts on my back but I have refused to give in to the voice of reason.

So really, the best of us fall prey to fashion’s whims and fancies. While I pray b**t crack girl burns those jeans, I shouldn’t be too judgemental – less I trip over my wedges.

Much ado about lists

I love lists. Well, more accurately, I love ticking things off lists when I’ve done them. Packing lists, to-do lists, shopping lists, things-to-do-before-I-die lists...Scratching something off makes me feel in control, competent, serene. It borders on exhilaration!

It’s sad, I know, that I get my kicks from something so mundane. But with so much to do and each day ending with more things being piled onto my to-do list, completing even the smallest task puts some power back in my hands. For that spilt moment, the overwhelming demands of life seem manageable.

Plus lists make life organised. If you can list it, you can do/fix it. Doesn’t that just ring with hope? Give it a shot. I might have a list addict out of you yet.