friends down the road

24 Dec 2009 – 21 March 2010

They first moved into a rented pad down the road from us three months ago, staying right on top of our usual supermarket and favourite book store.

Jason, Huixia and their trio – Kieran, Kirsten and Tristan – were enticingly near and not in faraway Redhill where they used to stay.

When good friends with the exact same number of kids at almost exactly the same ages are so nearby, it makes for some rolling good times (all 10 of us).

The kids sure had fun, these last three months.

A pictorial record.

PLAYGROUND FUN

The night the Lees move in (Christmas eve 2009), we hung out at the playground. The kids ran wild.

Rubber-face Jo was thrilled to play with rubber-face Jason.



Lu got to know Tristan a little better.



He didn't look like he liked her very much, which is prophetic because at the end of three months he only had eyes for our Jo.

The rest, however, get along fine.


* Day, Kirsten, Kieran and Tristan

POPPING BY

We popped by often, as a by-the-way-shall-we-visit after a trip to the supermarket.



The rented place wasn't pretty. But it was a place Day, Jo and Lu grew to love.


* Jo and Kirsten

They would sprint, 20 metres ahead, to the lift, press the right buttons, sprint down the corridor to Uncle Jason’s place, try to jump up and press the doorbell.

Once in, they all had their standard gigs.

Day would ransack Kieran’s bookcase, pull out whatever book he thought interesting (he’s started on Beast Quest and Geronimo something or other because he saw it on Kieran’s shelf), sit down on the sofa and read. For a long time.



Or he would play games if Kieran is around. They can play games till eternity.



Jo would sit down and watch TV, usually Hello Kitty.

After a while, she would run laps around the sofa, squealing, hair flying, chasing Lu or Tristan.

Lu would head to the storeroom door and try to open the golden door knob to reveal the monster (that’s why I told her) behind.



Or she would try to get a paw on Tristan’s smelly bolster, Bobo.



We have also celebrated four birthdays here: Tristan, mine, Jo, Kirsten.


* Tristan turns two


RELATIONSHIPS

Day and Kieran love each other.



Jo and Tristan have discovered that they love each other too. Tristan, not the least bit interested in Day or Lu, looks for Jo – “Where’s Jody?” They hug, they kiss, Jo indulges in more passionate embracing for the camera.



Lu and Kirsten move around independently, without alliance.

The family has moved.

Kids kinda miss popping over.

dance failure

It was to have been Jo’s first class.

She’s turned four, she’s opened up, I thought she was ready.

Class of choice: Dance.

Why?

She likes dancing and jiggling.

She’s been specifically asking for dance class for months.

She stopped dead in her tracks when we came across the Jody Marshall Dance Company at Suntec, and sat down for 30 minutes just watching the little girls go through the steps through the glass walls. With a smile.

What is the logical conclusion?

SHE WANTS TO GO FOR DANCE CLASS! Right?

Wrong.

Two trial hip-hop lessons ($25 in total), both lessons she parked her bum on the floor of the dance studio right at the back, where all anyone (prancing away) could see of her was her small still reflection in the mirror. For one hour.

No other kid (they all look to be her age and included highly enthusiastic boys) did the same.

My disappointment wore off in five minutes and I took off with Lu to Toys R Us to spend the hour, occasionally peeping to see if a miracle has occured.

I have learnt by now, with Jo, that she does what she wants to do. Elephants can’t move her.

Her demeanour: Bored.

Day, if left in such a situation as a four-year-old, would have turned angsty and tearful.

Jo sat immobile as Buddha, legs crossed, nonchalantly tossing off answers to the teachers who tried to cajole her to dance.

Teacher Jacqueline: Do you like dancing, Jody?

Jo: No.

And that was the end of the courtship.

* Dear girl, don't say I did not send you for dance class in future!

my sweet

Terrible Twos, yes yes.

To Jo’s hurricane, Lu’s is a drizzle (or perhaps it’s too early to say).

She deliberately does wrong (brings cornflakes into the bedroom to eat with her fingers), refuses to listen (wriggles off in glee when I try to get her diaper on, for as long as it takes), says NO very often and talks rude.

Fundamentally, however, Lu is really a very very sweet little girl.



Not in behaviour. She is not a sweet little girl in the pretty, feminine soft-spoken sort of way. In fact she is downright tomboyish.

She has a very sweet character.

Of all three, she has the greatest empathy.

She is the one who immediately senses distress and is quick to comfort.

So if I scolded Jo for hitting Lu on the head, Lu would pat Jo’s arm and say “It’s OK”.

Is the ability to empathise gene-coded? Or cultivated?

I don’t think I have anything to do with her sense of empathy. If anything, I got progressively less empathetic the more kids I had (no patience).

She is also the one with the greatest love for animals.

Fish, dogs, turtles, cats, hamsters. She loves them all. Give her a dog or a cat (no difference with her, she loves both species) and she would chase the animal down (in an attempt to pat it) to the ends of the earth.

She loves hanging around the road at my folk’s place, peering under cars and into drains to try and find the mao-mao.

And once she gets near, she does pat. Gently.

I think people who love animals are fundamentally alright at heart.

a word from lu

On the other end, Lu is giving me grief too.

Only, angsty quotes from someone stepping into her Terrible Two’s make me smile.

Her quotable quotes:

“I. SAID. I. WANT. HONEY!”
- How she demands for something when I say No.

“I’m not your friend.”
- How she responds after my tenth No.

“Stupid Mummy gu-gu bird poot poot.”
- How she scolds me

It all sounds dreadfully familiar.

on his own

“I’m not doing this to make ME happy, I’m doing this to make YOU happy.”
- During one of his piano practice sessions (words in CAPS are shouted louder)

Aiyoh!

I swear that at the moment he threw those words at me (glare and all), all the ambient traffic noise from the road outside went mute and I could only see the quote, in my mind’s eye, like a pull-out (inverted commas and all) from a feature story on David’s Development.

I could not speak to him for an hour after. I was not angry. I was just ... stunned.

Can my once-a-week gentle persuasions (with only one outburst to date) to play through his piano pieces – I do not even sit next to and lecture him, I leave him on his own and occasionally give him a tip or two – result in this hostility?

In any case, this is the year he truly flies. Yes I have said it before but I say it again. He wants to do what he wants to do.

That's his theme for 2010.

On my part, positive reinforcement, making it exciting, opportunities for exposure (to get him to do what I want him to do), no longer work on him.

He wants to watch Ben 10 (13 episodes in a row) all day, he wants to play PS3 and online games all night (hours in a row), there is nothing else I can do to get him to leave the game of his own accord.

Unless I sternly stop him, which I do.


* Fav past-time: Gaming with friends. Kieran here.

I have always wanted to abide by this philosophy: Let them do what they want (within moral limits) and explore the world. My job is to introduce them to what I deem healthy wholesome past-times, and try to get them to want to do those things instead.

So if he watched too much TV in the past, I would tell him: “Let’s do some painting! Mummy will bring you to the fish farm! Cycling at the beach!” And it would work.

It does not work now.

He does not want to go to the beach. His favourite place in the world is Vivocity. He hates physical activity. Fish farm is boring. He would rather play PS3. Or watch the tube. (of course some would argue that watching TV and gaming are very wholesome activities...)

It sometimes saddens me. Occasionally, I think of it as losing him.

But then, he is a normal boy. And he is like any other boy, drawn to the same sorts of things.

He is growing up. This is the time I have been waiting for since he was born.

I really need to let go.

* I should follow KK. Who buys him Ben 10 DVDs (I frown), lets him play games before bed (I nag), puts on a movie just before bedtime (I scream!).

matching girls

Following my acquisition of all-white shirts for the girls at the Isetan toy section (is it just me or is it really hard to find simple all-white shirts for kids?), I dig out two similar hot-pink skirts.

I see now why some people like to "match" their kids. It's kinda cute.

jo's 4

For Jo, four is a magical age.

She is sugar and spice and all things nice. Birthday highlights:

The Hello Kitty Castle

This was the biggest birthday highlight.



She saw it at Isetan a fortnight back, kept reminding me to get it for her birthday, I did. She was ecstatic.



While she immediately went about imagining which part of the castle she was in, I like it because it serves the very practical purpose of housing her hair accessories which used to be kept in a lid-less mooncake tin.

It made her forget the heart-shaped balloon and Strawberry Shortcake / Hello Kitty cake she requested for, but which I did not get.

The former because I simply did not have the chance to, the latter because I could not stand the thought of eating a fourth cake in a week.

The School Party

One cake, four kids: Jo, Mary, Michael and Jessie.



She looked miserable. Clung on to me.

The Ceremony

The Temptations chocolate cake was festooned with three BIG candles and 13 SMALL candles: 3 big 5 small for me (35), 4 small for Kirsten, 4 small for Jo. Jason's idea.



It was a joint cake-cutting ceremony for the three of us Marchies at Jason’s place (Lu’s cake had already been cut). Mine 16th, Kirsten 18th (same as Lu), Jo 20th.



Jo was pleased as punch. It was a simple celebration with a few good friends she loved.

lu's 2

My baby darling turns two today.

Lu is the only one of my children who, when I look at her, I think: “Oh my God where did all the time go?”

I think I pay her so little attention I get surprised by how fast she’s grown. The other day she called me “Sher Maine! Sher Maine!”

We had a little party for the little girl last week, little being the operative word.

I asked Jason down the road if he was free to lend us his kids (for some fun and laughter) and so they walked over.

Served Canadian pizza, steamed corn, grapes, konnyaku jelly (again) and of course, cake.

The kids (all six) had a swell time. As always.

The funny thing about Lu right now is her aversion to attention. She reacts like I’m paparazzi. She has the back of her hand over her eyes in every photo. Like so.


* With Tristan, Kirsten and Kieran


* With Nene and Tata


* With KK


* With us

We got her a Totoro toy. She has been watching My Neighbour, Totoro and she loves it.

I hunted high and low, a friend told me they are to be found in Kinokuniya Liang Court, I popped down and got her one of the creatures.



Jo, who was very involved in every stage of the birthday preparation process, spent a good hour decorating Lu’s present with a Sharpie, including writing “Totoro Loh” on the paper.



The message on the Awfully Chocolate cake was also scripted by Jo. Lulu Yuyu is what they call her.



I think Lu was chuffed to be the centre of attention.

birthday happiness...

... is when the husband takes off to go cycling with me from Bedok to Suntec City. And back. Without the kids.


* Getting burnt in the noonday beach heat

... is when he actually bothers to buy me presents which I jump on in delight, and wraps them up in pink paper. With hearts and “love always” all over.


* The package which I was reluctant to open and which I held on to for a long time

He once told me a long time ago, when he bought me a bunch of flowers (which I also jumped on): “I can’t do too many nice things for you so you will really remember the times I do.”

Today was one of those times.

35

Middle-aged. Halfway there. Or a third, if I am lucky (or unlucky?).

I turn 35 today. I am middle-aged.

By official definition, no longer a youth. The best years of my life are (not necessarily, I’d like to think!) behind me.

The day itself passes by a blur. No kids. Lunch with Bridgette, a meeting with a man who earned an annual eight-figure sum, and then an urgent call to Ang Mo Kio to mollify a cheesed-off newsmaker.

I am tired.

But I get home and we cut the cake.



Mum also treated us to a birthday buffet at the Plaza Market Cafe on Sunday. Mums never forget their kids.



I love buffets. Especially the vegetables (I love getting to eat vegetables cooked in a 1,001 delicious ways).

I like being 35, jiggly tummy, age spots, eyebags and all.

At 35, I know what I am and I know what I want.

art

One drawn by Day, the other by Jo copying him.





It's supposedly Pasir Ris MRT station. I don't know why Pasir Ris.

bussing

The car is due mid-April.

KK insists we need a family car. For him, it has become a necessity.

I have told him that he is solely in charge of selection and payment. And really, I do not care.

He asks me: What are the most important qualities you need in our car?

I say, after long deliberation: Affordable. It mustn’t break down suddenly on the expressway when I have three kids in it. Preferably auto gears. (Although I don’t mind attempting to master manual)

Him?

He says: Space. And power.

I laugh. What the heck is so important about power?

In any case. This is the context in which we, as car buyers, find ourselves.

COE prices are soaring sky-high.

Our bank accounts have filled up somewhat since the house, but is still pitiful, and I have already parcelled out all my money for various uses like a Darwin holiday (in June), endowments for the kids, topping up Lu’s CDA etc.

KK is looking at used cars.

The irony is I am the main user of the car.

KK only takes the wheel on weekends.

I am the one who has to ferry the kids around all day, drive to all corners of Singapore for my interviews / music gigs (with keyboard and violin in the trunk), travel to far-off corners of Singapore for things like eczema cream.

But I am the one to think seriously about public transport.

The $7-800 which KK currently spends on the Vitara every month can cover school bus trips for the kids, a good amount of cab fares and have some leftover.

A new car - even if second-hand - will likely cost us more.

And I have had practice with public transport. All it requires is:

* A great deal of planning (I cannot just buy groceries on a whim. All the cornflakes / milk / cheese / fresh food has to be an all-in-one get-everything-done one-shot marketing trip)
* A great deal of discipline (Waking the kids up and marshalling them through the motions in super-quick time)
* A great deal of patience and optimism (Waiting for a taxi / bus in the blazing sun / pouring rain with the trio)


* Kids on a Number 14 to Suntec

The kids can only get older and wiser and less troublesome.



It’s not so bad. Right? But I think KK will still get the car.

It will be his second.

Which reminds me of the first car he ever bought, a car which I think of with great fondness.

We spotted yellow GP at a church fun fair in 1998, a piece of cardboard with "$12,000" scrawled on it.

We decided on the spot to get it, KK borrowed $12k from his mum, and we got around in it for a good number of years until one day the wheel rolled off as he was driving past the KK hospital.


* A common sight with GP. There was always something wrong with it.

The workshop folks put it back on, he drove it some more, until it had to be scrapped. I think I cried the day GP died.



As parents, we can only get boring cars.

a different script

Nobody but me has written about the kids.

A friend of mine - Miss BZK - visited them recently and so inspired was she, she sent me this (not the photo but the text)

It made me laugh.


* A funny picture to go along with a funny post. My kids are rubbing their noses in Changi Airport carpet, where shoes tread every minute.

Miss BZK loves her little friends, ie, those under 10-years-old and less than 1.2 m tall. Let Miss BZK count the ways why little friends are so adorable...

1. Little friends surprise you with what they say...

Night, a four-year-old girl, asked: "Aunty BZK, do you like to eat pi sai (nose shit)?"

Miss BZK was stunned into silence for a moment, but bred on a steady diet of corn and wheat, she replied: "Night, have you eaten pi sai before?"

Night said: "Yes, at Parkway!"

Miss BZK: "How does it taste like?"

Night: "It is sweet!"

2. Little friends live in the moment

Night and her sister, the End, shriek in delight or clap gleefully each time i bring food over. They don't worry about: a) growing fat b) their cholesterol level c) if they look like they are starving. They just attack the food!

By the way, Day, Night and the End are the children of Sher Mama. They are named Day, because the 6-year-old boy was born in the day. Night, because she is so different from her brother and the End, because Sher Mama decided that The End will be her last child.

3. Little friends tell the truth!

Day, who was recently taught the virtue of saving, asked Miss BZK: "Aunty BZK, how much savings do you have?"

Now when you are asked a question you don't want to answer, turn the question onto the person who asked you the question. That's a little tip the ever witty Miss BZK will share with you for free.

Miss BZK: "How much savings do you have, Day?"

Day: "$9."

Sher Mama nods, saying: "Yes, he really has $9."

ear dig

I don’t know if it’s a boy thing, but Day produces impressive amounts of ear gunk.

Every so often KK wields his instrument and pronounces: Day I need to dig your ears.

The boy winces, but KK tells him: There’s so much dirt in your ears you can’t hear.

Then KK dives in.

It’s not a good feeling to have your ears cleaned out. KK has done it on me (though for me, each time, there is disappointingly little)

Day puts up with it.

The amount that is generated has shocked me on occasion. From crumbs to dirty-yellow slightly moist pieces the size of his finger nail.

The girls and I don’t have anything.

keiji ida

Jo likes to speak in a sing-song Japanese-sounding nonsense language where Lu’s moniker is “Keiji Ida”, Jo is “Ada” and Day is “Dida”.

She only talks to Day and Lu in the language, never anyone else.

Phonetically it goes something like: “Jakabakakabishida etc.”

A random assortment of consonant-vowel combinations which she spits out at machine gun-fire speed.

Day tries to respond on occasion. I don’t think he really gets it though.

Lu doesn’t even try. But she seems to understand. Especially when Jo waves her arms and shouts: “Keiji Ida! Keiji Ida!” Lu comes running.

the girls

Ooooh, these two naughty girls of mine.



Once upon a time all they did was fight.

Now they are bed mates who sooth each other to sleep and are partners in crime.

Misdemeanours (main perpetrator in brackets):

* Shutting themselves in the toilet while Jo surreptitiously rubs copious amounts of bathing gel all over Lu’s hair and body. Lu is dry and is still wearing her clothes (Jo)
* Standing at the front or back balcony and shouting very loudly at every passerby: “Auntie! Uncle!” (Jo and Lu)
* Pouring powder on the floor and putting on socks to make a home-based skating rink (Lu)
* Dragging all the pillows, bolsters and blankets from the bedrooms across the floors to pile up in the living room to make a mountain (Lu)



On the good side, they silly-dance together, squeal together, play together, draw together.

They even lisp and baby-talk together. (Jo deliberately goes: “Yooyoo, you want bee-teet?” – Lulu, you want biscuit?)

This time, they both dressed up to go to Orchard Market (that’s what Jo said), Lu with her book and bottle, Jo with her bear and money box.



I don’t think it has anything to do with the fact that they are girls. I think it’s age. They are still at the silly age.

Day usually gives them the side-eye. If I could give him a speech bubble, it would say: Do I HAVE to live with this?

muffin

Ondine’s little Muffin is out.

We hopped along for Dylan’s first-month celebration at the Singapore Swimming Club.


* Dylan and nanny

KK, in fine hermit form, preferred to not participate and he very kindly took sleepy cranky Lu with him, which meant me and the older two were primed to have a good time.

And we did.

The kids did not want to leave. “It’s not fair!” shouted Day when I said “five minutes more,” so I stayed to chat and eat (my favourite assam laksa!) in peace.

Going out with my four and six-year-old – even though they were sleep-deprived - is really quite heavenly because they get out of my way. They don’t even have to see my face.

What they did: Prance around with ballooons on the stage.

Hang around with Bruce, 11, behind the stage. They admire the swimming pool and play “open-and-close” the door while Bruce wags his finger. Both Day and Jo pronounce when we leave: “We like Bruce very much”. I am not sure if it was reciprocated.


* Bruce in shadow on the left

I think, in general, Day and Jo are real birthday / BBQ / social gathering fans. They would not pass up on any sort of party.

In the meantime, Ondine’s twin darlings entertain the crowd with Christian and Chinese New Year ditties.


* Jordan hogging the mike

While the star of the show – What a handsome fellow! – conducts himself admirably throughout.

hot

It’s times like these that I wish I were in an office with 18 degree aircon.

For posterity sake (if this blog were to exist in 50 years time), February 2010 (month just past) was:

Singapore’s driest month in 140 years (6.3mm of rain)
Hottest day of the year (2010) so far on February 26 (36 degrees Celcius)

It’s set to last till March and April.

Most days I actually pant. (“Hoo... hoo”)

The heat – particularly in my folk’s landed hemmed-in house – sits like an oppressive hot wet blanket.

Tempers fray, eczema flares up (mine and Lu), nobody feels like doing anything.

My activity of choice these days is to pop them in front of the TV while I lie down with my tongue hanging out.

No one’s in the mood for any sort of constructive activity.

Except water works.

The pool is still very much in use, even after six years.



Jo hamming it up.



Their apparel of choice.