Ah ha!
I finally decided to do something about it: Comment spam. Goodness knows it's been irritating the hell out of me. I click and wait, and instead of a friend's comment, it turns out to be some idiot company selling property or telling me how to make money.
And the answer is so dreadfully simple I can't believe it.
All I had to do was to click "Yes" to this word verification option for comments, under my blog settings.
So whoever leaves comments will have to type in some characters they see in a picture.
The rationale: "What this does is to prevent automated systems from adding comments to your blog, since it takes a human being to read the word and pass this step."
Voila! I NEVER knew why I had to read and type those weird words but finally, I do!
Yes, I am truly computer idiotic but hey, I'm learning. Now all I have to do is to figure out how to save my entire blog on CD-Rom, in case something happens. Nobody wants to lose their diary.
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Saturday, October 29, 2005
party animal
Day did some serious hard partying Friday night.
He ate lots of beer snacks, from peanuts to fried calamari to potato wedges. We were meeting with KK's windsurfing gang at this out-of-the-way restaurant at the PA Sea Sports Club called Beacon and we decided to bring him.
Like the rest of the guys, he also downed some Tiger beer.
He loves it. Strange. We stopped him after 2 sips.
It's not the first time he's drunk alcohol. I remember feeding him champagne. But Tiger beer, it's his first taste. He was quite pissed off when we wrestled the mug away. We only left at about 1030pm (very late by his standards) and he went to bed at 11.
The next morning, he experienced his first hang-over.
As KK puts it, he looks like he needed some serious recovering. His diaper was also very swollen with pee, he looks like he's got a huge yellowish banana in there, no doubt his body ridding itself of toxins...
For the first time, he actually woke up AFTER me. He is usually up and about by 7+ am. But he only woke at 9am. Even after I tried to rouse him, he just flipped over and kept right on snoring, when he would normally open his eyes wide on hearing the sounds of brushing teeth.
But he sure enjoyed the party. The food, the beer, and probably the attention.
He ate lots of beer snacks, from peanuts to fried calamari to potato wedges. We were meeting with KK's windsurfing gang at this out-of-the-way restaurant at the PA Sea Sports Club called Beacon and we decided to bring him.
Like the rest of the guys, he also downed some Tiger beer.
He loves it. Strange. We stopped him after 2 sips.
It's not the first time he's drunk alcohol. I remember feeding him champagne. But Tiger beer, it's his first taste. He was quite pissed off when we wrestled the mug away. We only left at about 1030pm (very late by his standards) and he went to bed at 11.
The next morning, he experienced his first hang-over.
As KK puts it, he looks like he needed some serious recovering. His diaper was also very swollen with pee, he looks like he's got a huge yellowish banana in there, no doubt his body ridding itself of toxins...
For the first time, he actually woke up AFTER me. He is usually up and about by 7+ am. But he only woke at 9am. Even after I tried to rouse him, he just flipped over and kept right on snoring, when he would normally open his eyes wide on hearing the sounds of brushing teeth.
But he sure enjoyed the party. The food, the beer, and probably the attention.
orchard dance
Nothing to do at my mother-in-law's place.
Decided to upload this pix of a moment of madness while JJ and me were walking along Orchard Road after a gig. Actually it's more Scotts Road, outside the Hyatt Hotel.
I wish I had more moments of madness, I miss them. With a baby, they are few and far between. But I hope Day will be the sort of man who enjoys moments of madness.
* KK just asked me: Did you take this photo a long time before? I said no, it was fairly recent. Three weeks to a month ago.
He looked at me like I was the most irresponsible person and suddenly, I realized that I had been jumping up and down like a mad dervish in heels on a slightly wet pavement, twisting my body while attempting to look like I was playing the violin, all the while in my first trimester of pregnancy. Ooops.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
sleep mistake
This is a post borne out of frustration, real I-want-to-tear-my-hair-out frustration.
It's over Day's sleeping habits, or lack of it.
Somehow, I made the mistake along the way of not training him to sleep on his own. I'm still not sure how I should do it, better read up before #2 comes along, but it's always been a REAL chore putting Day to sleep. Left on his own, he either refuses to or doesn't know how to sleep by himself.
So what happens now is that I have to sleep with him. Besides him, alongside him, until he gets into DEEP slumber (not even light slumber because he would get up wailing for me) before I can tiptoe my way out of the room.
Today, I had to do this THREE times. Each time, it takes me probably between 30 minutes to an hour. What usually happens is I fall asleep as well. How not to?
That's falling asleep or semi-asleep THREE times in the day. That's sheer HELL.
Could I not put him to sleep? Sure. Then I would have a cranky, crying boy on my hands. And it's always my hands because he doesn't turn to anyone else.
Just now, I had to do his night sleep and I was literally clenching my fists, counting down my breaths, I was just dying to move it and scoot but I could not.
It doesn't help that generally I'm not the type to lie back, put my legs up and do nothing. I'm usually in a hurry to do something, my fingers are always twitching and I'm always shaking my legs, so those 3 precious wasted hours really grind on me.
Now my head is heavy - from too many of these forced naps - and I feel sick. But I won't be able to sleep till real late precisely because of all these naps.
It's like what this doctor once warned me: Parents who let themselves become their kid's security blanket are in for trouble in the long haul.
That's what I am: Day's security blanket.
This is a real petty grouse and I know it's really insignificant and I'm being really unreasonable, but sometimes, the daily grind really gets to me.
I gotta figure out a way to get around it for #2. Let him yell his little lungs out, I don't know. Just something.
It's over Day's sleeping habits, or lack of it.
Somehow, I made the mistake along the way of not training him to sleep on his own. I'm still not sure how I should do it, better read up before #2 comes along, but it's always been a REAL chore putting Day to sleep. Left on his own, he either refuses to or doesn't know how to sleep by himself.
So what happens now is that I have to sleep with him. Besides him, alongside him, until he gets into DEEP slumber (not even light slumber because he would get up wailing for me) before I can tiptoe my way out of the room.
Today, I had to do this THREE times. Each time, it takes me probably between 30 minutes to an hour. What usually happens is I fall asleep as well. How not to?
That's falling asleep or semi-asleep THREE times in the day. That's sheer HELL.
Could I not put him to sleep? Sure. Then I would have a cranky, crying boy on my hands. And it's always my hands because he doesn't turn to anyone else.
Just now, I had to do his night sleep and I was literally clenching my fists, counting down my breaths, I was just dying to move it and scoot but I could not.
It doesn't help that generally I'm not the type to lie back, put my legs up and do nothing. I'm usually in a hurry to do something, my fingers are always twitching and I'm always shaking my legs, so those 3 precious wasted hours really grind on me.
Now my head is heavy - from too many of these forced naps - and I feel sick. But I won't be able to sleep till real late precisely because of all these naps.
It's like what this doctor once warned me: Parents who let themselves become their kid's security blanket are in for trouble in the long haul.
That's what I am: Day's security blanket.
This is a real petty grouse and I know it's really insignificant and I'm being really unreasonable, but sometimes, the daily grind really gets to me.
I gotta figure out a way to get around it for #2. Let him yell his little lungs out, I don't know. Just something.
impending bird flu
My heart is in my mouth once more.
News of the bird flu, which made me lose my appetite last year, is in the spotlight again. I guess it's the season when birds migrate and the flu bug pops its head up.
Not a day goes by without some mention of how new cases of dead birds infected with the H5N1 virus are popping up all over the globe. Today, it's Croatia and China.
It's at times like these that I sigh, look at KK and say: And we are brought two kids into this world...
It is truly depressing. While Day is just about to discover the thrill of jumping up and down, the rest of the world is discovering that it looks like the end of the world is near. What with bird flu, West Nile, dengue, global warming, tsumanis, terrorism.
I want all that I love around me to die peacefully in bed at a ripe old age, while sleeping, drifting off into eternal slumber. Not to be wrecked with disease, drown or be bombed into oblivion.
I wouldn't care half as much if I didn't have kids, honestly. But all parents want is to protect their children.
If there is anything I can do now, all the bad news just makes me all the more determined to appreciate and enjoy my time with my family. It's all I want.
News of the bird flu, which made me lose my appetite last year, is in the spotlight again. I guess it's the season when birds migrate and the flu bug pops its head up.
Not a day goes by without some mention of how new cases of dead birds infected with the H5N1 virus are popping up all over the globe. Today, it's Croatia and China.
It's at times like these that I sigh, look at KK and say: And we are brought two kids into this world...
It is truly depressing. While Day is just about to discover the thrill of jumping up and down, the rest of the world is discovering that it looks like the end of the world is near. What with bird flu, West Nile, dengue, global warming, tsumanis, terrorism.
I want all that I love around me to die peacefully in bed at a ripe old age, while sleeping, drifting off into eternal slumber. Not to be wrecked with disease, drown or be bombed into oblivion.
I wouldn't care half as much if I didn't have kids, honestly. But all parents want is to protect their children.
If there is anything I can do now, all the bad news just makes me all the more determined to appreciate and enjoy my time with my family. It's all I want.
Monday, October 24, 2005
maternity wear haven
I've been waiting and waiting for my belly to be discernible so I can pop into Deb's (Ally's mom) shop, Maternity Exchange, and pamper myself with some lux maternity clothes.
Goodness knows I'm not much of a clothes horse. Ordinarily, I end up buying things which are the best value for money (so ah-soh right), like from pasar malams.
But with Deb's shop, it's different. The clothes look great and I like the idea of renting. It works out to over $30 per branded piece with the rental package. Since I'm not going to wear them after I pop, makes a lot of sense.
So I dropped by yesterday, all togged out in my bright red Man U jersey (yes, unbelievable. Two boys on the bus I took kept staring at me before I realized they were both togged out in the same Man U jerseys too, Vodafone logo and all, only theirs were fake and mine was the real thing) and my old, grubby pair of rubberized draw-string Ah-Soh pants.
And wow, the clothes were to die for. All I tried were pants (I can still wear my tops) but every single pair fit me like a glove and they made me look tall with long legs. The jeans from Arabella B, particularly, were nicer than any pair of jeans I have ever worn in my life. Having to change into my own clothes sucked.
I guess quality really shows through, particuarly in the cutting. It just felt right immediately.
Deb said quite a few customers actually decide to buy after renting. I might well be tempted to do that for the stuff that can be worn by non-pregnant women, though some of the clothes are really pricey and are not things I would ever wear if I couldn't rent it.
I only rented pants today but I have seven more pieces to go. Looking forward to it!
Goodness knows I'm not much of a clothes horse. Ordinarily, I end up buying things which are the best value for money (so ah-soh right), like from pasar malams.
But with Deb's shop, it's different. The clothes look great and I like the idea of renting. It works out to over $30 per branded piece with the rental package. Since I'm not going to wear them after I pop, makes a lot of sense.
So I dropped by yesterday, all togged out in my bright red Man U jersey (yes, unbelievable. Two boys on the bus I took kept staring at me before I realized they were both togged out in the same Man U jerseys too, Vodafone logo and all, only theirs were fake and mine was the real thing) and my old, grubby pair of rubberized draw-string Ah-Soh pants.
And wow, the clothes were to die for. All I tried were pants (I can still wear my tops) but every single pair fit me like a glove and they made me look tall with long legs. The jeans from Arabella B, particularly, were nicer than any pair of jeans I have ever worn in my life. Having to change into my own clothes sucked.
I guess quality really shows through, particuarly in the cutting. It just felt right immediately.
Deb said quite a few customers actually decide to buy after renting. I might well be tempted to do that for the stuff that can be worn by non-pregnant women, though some of the clothes are really pricey and are not things I would ever wear if I couldn't rent it.
I only rented pants today but I have seven more pieces to go. Looking forward to it!
Saturday, October 22, 2005
play play
Nearly 18 months and I haven't got it quite figured out yet: Play.
How hard can it be to play? Everyone can play, right? Nope. It's really not that easy to think of something spontaneous, over-the-top and yet meaningful every day for a kid. And as we get older, we get progressively less playful, more serious and more boring.
I was interviewing a lady, who heads a $1,000 a month kindergarten (yeah I call it the university kindergarten cos' it costs more to enrol your child in that kindy than in university) but who has really interesting views about play.
She said most parents end up giving their kids the "What's That?" spiel. So whatever they see, they would look at the kid, open their eyes wide, point to the object and go in a sing-song voice: "What's that?" And the kid would answer. And everybody claps. I certainly do that all the time with Day. But that's about it.
She talks of weaving interesting stories and songs around people, animals and objects to spark the kid's imagination, turning sticks and stones into castles or obstacle courses. That sort of thing. It requires REAL effort on a parent's part, honestly, to do that. And if you don't have an imagination yourself, it's virtually impossible to spark someone else's imagination.
Day, he's real fun. But it takes a helluva lot of brain-cracking and some luck to find something which he thinks is interesting.
For one, he doesn't like toys. Well, at least not his own. They lie abandoned in a sad pile in the living room.
He usually goes round and round the house, upstairs and downstairs, opening and closing all the cupboards, taking everything out and throwing them all around.
I have made some feeble efforts to "engage" him though. And these are the more successful ones.
CHEF'S DELIGHT
One day, we decided to let him open up this cupboard in the kitchen which contains all the non-glass items and gave him complete free rein. Complete.
Because he watches Norma cook all the time, it caught his fancy. Mumbling "I cook, I cook", he removed everything in there. Norma gave him a bit of cabbage and I gave him a ladle for him to fry his stuff.
It was quite a kick when, after drinking the "soup" that he had cooked, I offered him the empty bowl and he declared with a giggle that it was "hot" after taking a tentative sip. So now I know he's got an imagination. Great.
BOOK RAMP
OK if he's got an imagination, I'm supposed to nurture it, right? So I gather all sorts of nonsense from around the house and tell him we are building a... house.
We have used dustbins and helmets before, but he had fun with this one because I made a ramp. He was tickled pink when I made the car drive up the ramp and said it was por-por coming home from work.
But at other times, it falls flat so ... tough one.
BOX HOUSE
This is lagi-cheap and probably the best. Fun and if spoilt, just throw. This box was going out with the rubbish but I saved it and cut a few holes in it. The rest was up to Day.
He threw in his pillows, some books and blocks and made himself comfortable in there like a little puppy in its basket. He calls it his "how-th". Sometimes I feed him surprise food through the holes. Like a biscuit or a spoonful of yoghurt haha.
And sometimes, I pretend to be the big bad wolf coming to blow his house down and he squeals just like a pig.
How hard can it be to play? Everyone can play, right? Nope. It's really not that easy to think of something spontaneous, over-the-top and yet meaningful every day for a kid. And as we get older, we get progressively less playful, more serious and more boring.
I was interviewing a lady, who heads a $1,000 a month kindergarten (yeah I call it the university kindergarten cos' it costs more to enrol your child in that kindy than in university) but who has really interesting views about play.
She said most parents end up giving their kids the "What's That?" spiel. So whatever they see, they would look at the kid, open their eyes wide, point to the object and go in a sing-song voice: "What's that?" And the kid would answer. And everybody claps. I certainly do that all the time with Day. But that's about it.
She talks of weaving interesting stories and songs around people, animals and objects to spark the kid's imagination, turning sticks and stones into castles or obstacle courses. That sort of thing. It requires REAL effort on a parent's part, honestly, to do that. And if you don't have an imagination yourself, it's virtually impossible to spark someone else's imagination.
Day, he's real fun. But it takes a helluva lot of brain-cracking and some luck to find something which he thinks is interesting.
For one, he doesn't like toys. Well, at least not his own. They lie abandoned in a sad pile in the living room.
He usually goes round and round the house, upstairs and downstairs, opening and closing all the cupboards, taking everything out and throwing them all around.
I have made some feeble efforts to "engage" him though. And these are the more successful ones.
CHEF'S DELIGHT
One day, we decided to let him open up this cupboard in the kitchen which contains all the non-glass items and gave him complete free rein. Complete.
Because he watches Norma cook all the time, it caught his fancy. Mumbling "I cook, I cook", he removed everything in there. Norma gave him a bit of cabbage and I gave him a ladle for him to fry his stuff.
It was quite a kick when, after drinking the "soup" that he had cooked, I offered him the empty bowl and he declared with a giggle that it was "hot" after taking a tentative sip. So now I know he's got an imagination. Great.
BOOK RAMP
OK if he's got an imagination, I'm supposed to nurture it, right? So I gather all sorts of nonsense from around the house and tell him we are building a... house.
We have used dustbins and helmets before, but he had fun with this one because I made a ramp. He was tickled pink when I made the car drive up the ramp and said it was por-por coming home from work.
But at other times, it falls flat so ... tough one.
BOX HOUSE
This is lagi-cheap and probably the best. Fun and if spoilt, just throw. This box was going out with the rubbish but I saved it and cut a few holes in it. The rest was up to Day.
He threw in his pillows, some books and blocks and made himself comfortable in there like a little puppy in its basket. He calls it his "how-th". Sometimes I feed him surprise food through the holes. Like a biscuit or a spoonful of yoghurt haha.
And sometimes, I pretend to be the big bad wolf coming to blow his house down and he squeals just like a pig.
Friday, October 21, 2005
love
Since Day can talk a little now, we thought it was time to get an insight into what's going on in his head, starting with the concept of LOVE. You know, whether he loves us... yes, we're mad that way.
The conversation went like this (and it always goes the same way everytime I repeat it).
Me: Mummy loves you, Papa loves you. Do you love Mummy?
Day: No.
Me: Do you love Papa?
Day: No.
Me: Who do you love?
Day: Day Day.
Egoistic pig!
The conversation went like this (and it always goes the same way everytime I repeat it).
Me: Mummy loves you, Papa loves you. Do you love Mummy?
Day: No.
Me: Do you love Papa?
Day: No.
Me: Who do you love?
Day: Day Day.
Egoistic pig!
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
tv monster
It's started. The damned TV thing.
Seventeen months of disinterest in the TV and suddenly, Day is all agog.
Again, it's my fault. Just this month I started freelancing for a parents magazine which requires me to review 5-6 kiddie CDs on a monthly basis. I reckoned it would make sense to watch these VCDs and DVDs with Day, after all they are meant for him not me.
Prior to this, he didn't watch anything.
I didn't anticipate how hard the TV bug would bite. I reckon he watches an hour or more of TV every day now. Yes I get to keep those discs.
First thing in the morning, he comes downstairs, plonks himself on the leather dog (whose goggly eyeballs are also being worn loose by Day's twisting fingers) and yells "I see, I see!" Okaayyy...
Like a mild narcotic, those kiddie discs have seemed to opened up a whole new world in the goggle box and he also gets high on heavier stuff on Kids Central, which never used to appeal to him before.
What particularly gets him going now, is this sing-song VCD of fat infants whose mouths are digitally manipulated so they look like they are singing like adults - with full sets of teeth. My oh my.
For someone who used to spend a good 15 minutes every morning lovingly highlighting a few hours worth of programmes in the newspapers, before spending the rest of the day either watching them or taping them, I am surprisingly anti-TV now.
I just think a lot more things can be done in the time spent watching TV, and that goes for adults. (Hello KK, ESPN couch potato? Are you listening???)
Before he started on TV in the morning, Day would be playing housekeeper alongside Norma, trying to sweep the floor and dust things. He doesn't do that now. I think it's his loss.
But apart from trying to distract him with better things to do, I won't stop him. Not my style to ban something and make it more attractive in the process.
I guess I can only try to make sure he sees the right things, good and wholesome. I do remember some of my most enduring memories were from TV.
* Note to self: That X-box right in front of the TV has GOT to go soon.
And one day, when he is of age and when I am too old and tired, he can go watch all the crap he wants. Hopefully he would know how to judge by then.
For now, of course, there is a good side to all this: He keeps still and quiet all by himself while watching TV so I can do my own things. I also appreciate the fact that he gets to watch free original discs of, I must say, rather good programmes like Baby Einstein. I really shouldn't complain.
Seventeen months of disinterest in the TV and suddenly, Day is all agog.
Again, it's my fault. Just this month I started freelancing for a parents magazine which requires me to review 5-6 kiddie CDs on a monthly basis. I reckoned it would make sense to watch these VCDs and DVDs with Day, after all they are meant for him not me.
Prior to this, he didn't watch anything.
I didn't anticipate how hard the TV bug would bite. I reckon he watches an hour or more of TV every day now. Yes I get to keep those discs.
First thing in the morning, he comes downstairs, plonks himself on the leather dog (whose goggly eyeballs are also being worn loose by Day's twisting fingers) and yells "I see, I see!" Okaayyy...
Like a mild narcotic, those kiddie discs have seemed to opened up a whole new world in the goggle box and he also gets high on heavier stuff on Kids Central, which never used to appeal to him before.
What particularly gets him going now, is this sing-song VCD of fat infants whose mouths are digitally manipulated so they look like they are singing like adults - with full sets of teeth. My oh my.
For someone who used to spend a good 15 minutes every morning lovingly highlighting a few hours worth of programmes in the newspapers, before spending the rest of the day either watching them or taping them, I am surprisingly anti-TV now.
I just think a lot more things can be done in the time spent watching TV, and that goes for adults. (Hello KK, ESPN couch potato? Are you listening???)
Before he started on TV in the morning, Day would be playing housekeeper alongside Norma, trying to sweep the floor and dust things. He doesn't do that now. I think it's his loss.
But apart from trying to distract him with better things to do, I won't stop him. Not my style to ban something and make it more attractive in the process.
I guess I can only try to make sure he sees the right things, good and wholesome. I do remember some of my most enduring memories were from TV.
* Note to self: That X-box right in front of the TV has GOT to go soon.
And one day, when he is of age and when I am too old and tired, he can go watch all the crap he wants. Hopefully he would know how to judge by then.
For now, of course, there is a good side to all this: He keeps still and quiet all by himself while watching TV so I can do my own things. I also appreciate the fact that he gets to watch free original discs of, I must say, rather good programmes like Baby Einstein. I really shouldn't complain.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
gender confusion
To Day, Lou Ferrigno, the original Incredible Hulk, is just plain old "Auntie".
It's got to be the hair and the breasts.
* Ordinarily, I would never show this to Day, but it happens to be a picture in my nutritionist bro's laptop and that is how Day chanced across it.
Sunday, October 16, 2005
computer crash
I haven't been taking any pictures of Day for weeks now, and the reason I haven't been doing so is because there is no point. I can't download them.
My darned computer suddenly decided to crash - friend tells me its a virus - and all of a sudden it's like a completely new entity. Half my programmes, including Word and Canon Zoom Browser, which I need to download my pics, are gone. I'm reduced to using Word Pad and I can't do any photos.
Without my photos, I don't feel like blogging either. I hate wordy blogs, they are like those too-long comment and analysis pieces in the papers: BORING.
I have just been procrastinating, not sure what I should do. The original CD-ROM which I used to install the photo software is gone.
It's all so Q#$^@$%^@&%^$%@# irritating!!! I just have this extreme need-hate relationship with computers. I can't do without them but when something happens, my blood pressure and heart rate shoots up. I once threw my laptop on the ground in frustration and I have done my fair share of key-bashing. ARRRGGGHHHH!!!
My darned computer suddenly decided to crash - friend tells me its a virus - and all of a sudden it's like a completely new entity. Half my programmes, including Word and Canon Zoom Browser, which I need to download my pics, are gone. I'm reduced to using Word Pad and I can't do any photos.
Without my photos, I don't feel like blogging either. I hate wordy blogs, they are like those too-long comment and analysis pieces in the papers: BORING.
I have just been procrastinating, not sure what I should do. The original CD-ROM which I used to install the photo software is gone.
It's all so Q#$^@$%^@&%^$%@# irritating!!! I just have this extreme need-hate relationship with computers. I can't do without them but when something happens, my blood pressure and heart rate shoots up. I once threw my laptop on the ground in frustration and I have done my fair share of key-bashing. ARRRGGGHHHH!!!
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
stupid
You never know how dirty your mouth is until a child starts picking it up and echoing it back. Then you realize just how rude you really are.
Day's first swear (well I shouldn't call it a swear word since it's isn't technically one but he sure uses it like one) word is STUPID.
He's been saying it for probably a month now. He goes "thoo-peed".
The next question everyone asks me is, does he know what he's saying? Does he mean it? Or is he just rolling a new word in his mouth?
I know for a fact that the boy knows what he is saying. It's pretty obvious when someone is pissed with you and yells at you stupid isn't it? Day:
a) Only says it to people who do things he doesn't like, like stopping him from getting something he wants or worse, taking something away from him. Like his pink Percy Pig sweets but that's another issue.
b) He doesn't say it once. He yells it 2, 3 times in a row: Thoo-peed, thoo-peed, THOO-PEED!
c) He accompanies it with a ferocious glare and sometimes hits or bites for good measure.
Where did he pick it from? Dominant source, probably me. I'm quite indiscrimate in my use of Stupids and now I'm seriously watching my Shits.
But people all around him use it quite freely too, something which Theresa discovered to her chagrin, when she recently met up with David and realized how often she says stupid.
Why that particular word? I reckon swear words just stand out more simply because we say it with so much more force and passion. And it's often a stand-alone word.
My problem now is how to get him to STOP. It's a real headache. I was told to ignore so he won't get the reaction or attention he desires, and he will stop using it. But that to me screamed WRONG not only because he didn't stop using it, but letting him do so now means it will be so much harder to stop him in future, should it become a habit.
But apparently, drawing attention to the word is going to make him realize that saying stupid IS a big deal, something that mommy takes very seriously indeed and which is something he can use to manipulate me. But ignorance to me is worse.
So I've tried a hodge-podge of ways, to try to get him to UNDERSTAND why it's wrong. I have told him, whenever he says the word, that it is hurtful and there are better ways to express his anger. Like saying, er, shucks. Sometimes I just glare and let him know that I am pissed.
The message seems to have filtered through. Whenever he says stupid now, I say very sternly "DAVID" and he bursts into tears.
Such a stupid (there I go) small thing, but it was such a dilemma, wondering how to get rid of his stupids. I guess there will be many more such episodes to come. It's hard trying to raise a gentleman.
Day's first swear (well I shouldn't call it a swear word since it's isn't technically one but he sure uses it like one) word is STUPID.
He's been saying it for probably a month now. He goes "thoo-peed".
The next question everyone asks me is, does he know what he's saying? Does he mean it? Or is he just rolling a new word in his mouth?
I know for a fact that the boy knows what he is saying. It's pretty obvious when someone is pissed with you and yells at you stupid isn't it? Day:
a) Only says it to people who do things he doesn't like, like stopping him from getting something he wants or worse, taking something away from him. Like his pink Percy Pig sweets but that's another issue.
b) He doesn't say it once. He yells it 2, 3 times in a row: Thoo-peed, thoo-peed, THOO-PEED!
c) He accompanies it with a ferocious glare and sometimes hits or bites for good measure.
Where did he pick it from? Dominant source, probably me. I'm quite indiscrimate in my use of Stupids and now I'm seriously watching my Shits.
But people all around him use it quite freely too, something which Theresa discovered to her chagrin, when she recently met up with David and realized how often she says stupid.
Why that particular word? I reckon swear words just stand out more simply because we say it with so much more force and passion. And it's often a stand-alone word.
My problem now is how to get him to STOP. It's a real headache. I was told to ignore so he won't get the reaction or attention he desires, and he will stop using it. But that to me screamed WRONG not only because he didn't stop using it, but letting him do so now means it will be so much harder to stop him in future, should it become a habit.
But apparently, drawing attention to the word is going to make him realize that saying stupid IS a big deal, something that mommy takes very seriously indeed and which is something he can use to manipulate me. But ignorance to me is worse.
So I've tried a hodge-podge of ways, to try to get him to UNDERSTAND why it's wrong. I have told him, whenever he says the word, that it is hurtful and there are better ways to express his anger. Like saying, er, shucks. Sometimes I just glare and let him know that I am pissed.
The message seems to have filtered through. Whenever he says stupid now, I say very sternly "DAVID" and he bursts into tears.
Such a stupid (there I go) small thing, but it was such a dilemma, wondering how to get rid of his stupids. I guess there will be many more such episodes to come. It's hard trying to raise a gentleman.
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Friday, October 07, 2005
when pus came dancing
So Papa was reading a book to Day. He's the official reader.
I was lying at the side, gazing at the ceiling and getting myself into the mood so that when Papa turns off the lights and leaves the room, I am all ready to close my eyes and put Day to sleep.
Then out of the blue, I heard this: "Pus came dancing out of a barn..."
PUS? Why the hell would that be in a nursery rhyme book?
Turns out that it was pusS. As in Pussy Cat.
I laughed so hard it snapped me out of my sleepy mood. Even though I am pretty sure KK had meant pus, he claims that he didn't want to say Puss because it's an obscene word. Yeah right.
Seriously though, Papa is a much better reader.
Not because of his articulation, he's no BBC newscaster. As evidenced by puss and pus.
But because he's way more fun and dramatic. Day pays more attention to his Papa reading, with either a concentrated frown or a smile of anticipation on his face, because he never knows what his Papa is going to spring on him.
I'm always correct, but I'm not someone who can ham it up.
Ironically, I seem to do the Chinese books better. This may seem ludicrous to those who have heard me speak Chinese (someone said I sound like I'm singing), but I find that the Chinese language lends itself a lot easier to dramatic ups and downs.
*These, are some of his Chinese books. They're good because the pictures captivate him and there is only one sentence on each page, with hanyu pinyin to help Chinese idiots like me. It only costs $2 per book at a store next to Mothercare at Parkway Parade, if anyone is interested.
Oh well. In any case, Day seems to like books rather a lot now, which is great. When he wakes up in the morning, he goes straight to his books for a flip and no matter how cranky he gets, we know he will stay put if we dump him on his reading bed and throw him a couple of books.
I was lying at the side, gazing at the ceiling and getting myself into the mood so that when Papa turns off the lights and leaves the room, I am all ready to close my eyes and put Day to sleep.
Then out of the blue, I heard this: "Pus came dancing out of a barn..."
PUS? Why the hell would that be in a nursery rhyme book?
Turns out that it was pusS. As in Pussy Cat.
I laughed so hard it snapped me out of my sleepy mood. Even though I am pretty sure KK had meant pus, he claims that he didn't want to say Puss because it's an obscene word. Yeah right.
Seriously though, Papa is a much better reader.
Not because of his articulation, he's no BBC newscaster. As evidenced by puss and pus.
But because he's way more fun and dramatic. Day pays more attention to his Papa reading, with either a concentrated frown or a smile of anticipation on his face, because he never knows what his Papa is going to spring on him.
I'm always correct, but I'm not someone who can ham it up.
Ironically, I seem to do the Chinese books better. This may seem ludicrous to those who have heard me speak Chinese (someone said I sound like I'm singing), but I find that the Chinese language lends itself a lot easier to dramatic ups and downs.
*These, are some of his Chinese books. They're good because the pictures captivate him and there is only one sentence on each page, with hanyu pinyin to help Chinese idiots like me. It only costs $2 per book at a store next to Mothercare at Parkway Parade, if anyone is interested.
Oh well. In any case, Day seems to like books rather a lot now, which is great. When he wakes up in the morning, he goes straight to his books for a flip and no matter how cranky he gets, we know he will stay put if we dump him on his reading bed and throw him a couple of books.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
#2 at 15 weeks: fatty
I had been so concerned about my weight (compared to when I was pregnant with Day, I am 2 kilos lighter than I was at the same stage), I have just been stuffing my face in an attempt to crank up the kilos.
Today I weighed myself at the clinic and I was glad to see that I have at least crossed over the 47 kg threshold. OK, so I put on about 500 grams.
Imagine my chagrin when Doc Tan peers at me after looking at the ultrasound and says: The baby is BIG. Well, bigger than he should be.
Instead of 14 weeks old, she now pronounces that he's 15 weeks old. And expected due date has gotten earlier, to March 28.
She also keeps telling me that I have no reason to worry about weight because any weight I put on before the baby is 20 weeks old, is MY weight. MY fats. MY problem after baby is born.
I'm just glad he's growing well.
And for the record, there was no penis in sight today. Truth be told, my heart gave a little leap of joy when she said she couldn't see anything. But in all fairness, she could only get a view of his rump because his legs were crossed, so the penis would be somewhere out where the ultrasound cannot penetrate.
Today I weighed myself at the clinic and I was glad to see that I have at least crossed over the 47 kg threshold. OK, so I put on about 500 grams.
Imagine my chagrin when Doc Tan peers at me after looking at the ultrasound and says: The baby is BIG. Well, bigger than he should be.
Instead of 14 weeks old, she now pronounces that he's 15 weeks old. And expected due date has gotten earlier, to March 28.
She also keeps telling me that I have no reason to worry about weight because any weight I put on before the baby is 20 weeks old, is MY weight. MY fats. MY problem after baby is born.
I'm just glad he's growing well.
And for the record, there was no penis in sight today. Truth be told, my heart gave a little leap of joy when she said she couldn't see anything. But in all fairness, she could only get a view of his rump because his legs were crossed, so the penis would be somewhere out where the ultrasound cannot penetrate.
Monday, October 03, 2005
mad meet
It's been a L-O-N-G time since Miri, Ally and Day (MAD for short) met up (apart from seeing each other at brief moments during birthday parties).
I really miss them.
The last time we descended on Debbie's (Ally's mom) place was April 27, a full five months ago. When I first started bringing Day over in beginning March, I thought it would be a fun playgroup.
Sadly (for us, but good for Deb!) Debbie got busy with the opening of her maternity rental store and Julyn (Miri's Mom) got busy with her lecturing and editing. All over-achievers lah. So that's that.
Anyway, from our last meeting in April, this is what the kids looked like:
Day was bald and just past his one year birthday. He is occupying Ally's high chair, having tea with me and Debbie and munching biscuits. He loved doing that.
Miri was still very very little, and still crawing. She and Ally were about eight months old then.
Miri (this photo makes her look way bigger than she is) and Ally behind.
Now, everyone is past one. Debbie managed to get a day off last week and we decided to meet up again, for old times sake.
Both girls are just over a year old, are thinner (the fat Michelin-tyre stage is over) and are toddling along very well!
Ally's hair is not troll-like anymore. But unlike the times when she and David seemed to share a special connection, the two seem to have forgotten about each other. And she was grumpy! That's new to me.
Miri is still very small. But she's still a sam-seng. Here she is trying to suck up some plastic wrap, she ended up using it to play hide-and-seek.
We had a new addition to the group as well. Marn, Julyn's friend, and her 11-month-old daughter Sophie, who is still so chubby and cute. Day kept stealing Sophie's peas.
Here's one very hard-gotten photo. It took forever before we got one decent shot, with seven people looking straight ahead. (Sophie was distracted).
Notice, too, that Day was the only male amongst 7 females. Eight, if you count Deb's maid, Delia. Day had a good time alright.
I really miss them.
The last time we descended on Debbie's (Ally's mom) place was April 27, a full five months ago. When I first started bringing Day over in beginning March, I thought it would be a fun playgroup.
Sadly (for us, but good for Deb!) Debbie got busy with the opening of her maternity rental store and Julyn (Miri's Mom) got busy with her lecturing and editing. All over-achievers lah. So that's that.
Anyway, from our last meeting in April, this is what the kids looked like:
Day was bald and just past his one year birthday. He is occupying Ally's high chair, having tea with me and Debbie and munching biscuits. He loved doing that.
Miri was still very very little, and still crawing. She and Ally were about eight months old then.
Miri (this photo makes her look way bigger than she is) and Ally behind.
Now, everyone is past one. Debbie managed to get a day off last week and we decided to meet up again, for old times sake.
Both girls are just over a year old, are thinner (the fat Michelin-tyre stage is over) and are toddling along very well!
Ally's hair is not troll-like anymore. But unlike the times when she and David seemed to share a special connection, the two seem to have forgotten about each other. And she was grumpy! That's new to me.
Miri is still very small. But she's still a sam-seng. Here she is trying to suck up some plastic wrap, she ended up using it to play hide-and-seek.
We had a new addition to the group as well. Marn, Julyn's friend, and her 11-month-old daughter Sophie, who is still so chubby and cute. Day kept stealing Sophie's peas.
Here's one very hard-gotten photo. It took forever before we got one decent shot, with seven people looking straight ahead. (Sophie was distracted).
Notice, too, that Day was the only male amongst 7 females. Eight, if you count Deb's maid, Delia. Day had a good time alright.
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