offspring

cny greetings!

2012-01-25T00:13:00.003+08:00

From the family! (minus one)

From the kids!

Story of the dresses: Picked by the girls. KK says: So tacky.

angbao ownership

2012-01-23T23:23:00.005+08:00

Like flowers, the kids unfurl new petals every now and then, blooming into the adults they will soon become.

This Chinese New Year, Jo starts labelling her red packets.

What does this say about her personality?

We give the kids their first angbaos on Day One.

Day and Lu give me their packets for safekeeping. Jo asks me for a pen before writing her name on it, big as can be so no one can mistake that it’s anyone else’s but hers.

She does this for every single angbao she receives throughout the day and watches my bag like a hawk.

The one time she thinks I accidentally gave out her angbao to another child (a mistake I am likely to make because inside the bag is a war zone), she is beside herself.

She is certainly more careful than her easy-going mother, who would be happy just taking out all the money received at the end of the day and dividing it by three.

In fact I think the way I am compels her to be what she is becoming, because she thinks she must cover mummy’s back (like how she makes it a point to manually lock the car after we leave it because I never do. Lock the car, I mean).

For sure, if there was anything which needed safekeeping, I’d entrust it to her.

clothes stock take

2012-01-21T22:28:00.003+08:00

There was an article in Urban the other day on how to “detox your wardrobe”.

It seems that a quarter of women only wear 10 percent of their wardrobe contents, and the average woman has about 22 garments in her wardrobe that she will not wear but refuses to junk.

Most women, it seems, stand in front of a full wardrobe and declare that they have nothing to wear.

I assume the same stands for shoes and bags.

Which made me think about my own wardrobe and wonder again: Why haven’t I ever had that problem?

I’ve never stood in front of the wardrobe and said I had nothing to wear. I mean, how can there be nothing to wear?

Why didn’t I ever become the shopaholic? Why didn’t I ever care about how I looked? Why wasn’t I ever turned on by pretty clothes and bling and bags and shoes?

It’s not that I don’t like beauty. I do. I appreciate a beautiful dress or a pair of shoes on a magazine page, or somebody wearing it. I just never think about it for myself.

I think that in this aspect, I’m just lazy. You know what they say, about how there are no ugly women, only lazy ones - like me.

Anyway. It’s good to stock take. I only ever think about fashion during Chinese New Year.

CLOTHES COUNT

* KK's clothes on the left, mine on the right

Too few to throw. KK and I share one wardrobe. His shirts, which I arrange by colour because I like the way it looks, outnumber my dresses and shirts. In this picture, he’s already removed two bags worth of clothes.

My clothes include a shirt which a friend gave to me in secondary school (!), nursing wear and hand-me-downs. Urgh.

I buy a couple of tights and shirts, chiefly because this year I need to cover up loads of marks and rashes.

SHOE COUNT

Definitely too few to throw! These are my entire collection of lovely shoes, which I will wear until there are holes in them.

* The daily pink slipper
* The red shoes which are a present from dear Priscilla and which I wear whenever I need to meet people, I hope it lasts for years more
* The track shoes for exercise (not pictured)
* The black knee-high boots which were a few hundred bucks but which are comfortable as socks and which are my sole pair of formal / gig / concert shoes

And, my nod to Chinese New Year shopping! A new pair of high heels.

Which, for the record, are cheaper than EACH of the shiny pair of shoes the girls made me buy them.

I actually kind of hope the girls take a little more care with their appearance than I do. I’m terrifically boring, fashion-wise. But I can't be the one to inspire them for sure.

handsome

2012-01-20T23:01:00.002+08:00

These guys were on my computer screen.

Jo catches sight of the Korean hotties and, with a tiny smile, dimple twinkling, comes up with this: Oh wow, I like them. They’re so handsome.

I froze. What does SHE know about handsome?

This being the first time she lets go with the H word, I can’t let it go.

I test her. In the process, Day and Lu get so excited they join in too. (Everyone has an opinion)

Is this guy handsome?

Day: Yes
Jo: Yes
Lu: Yes

What about this one?

Day: No
Jo: No
Lu: No

And this?

Day: Yes
Jo: Yes
Lu: Yes

A few more random names thrown into the mix (they don’t’ agree on all though) and then I think I sort of get it.

Specs automatically cut off the handsome factor. Teachers and playful uncles they like are automatically in, but old men (like grandfathers) are definitely out.

Where do they get these ideas from?

girly games 7

2012-01-15T23:58:00.003+08:00

Dancing.

When I’m in the mood – which doesn’t happen often maybe once a week or less – I play the piano for the girls to dance.

Or maybe they dance to their own tune and I get so inspired looking at them I play.

Lulu holds an imaginary guitar (a tennis racket), humming along to the melody, while Jo follows a fixed set of steps which she choreographs in her head.

Once I made up a musical picture, where they were two little birds hatching out of their shells, but they got so terrified at the subsequent passage where the dog hunts the birds down (it wouldn't be exciting otherwise) they never wanted to dance to that tune again.

Now when I play a bit of the dog tune, both girls shriek and cling to me on the piano bench.

A gratuitous dancing vid, thanks to Day who tried very hard to follow the two imps with the camera.

girly games 6

2012-01-14T23:23:00.002+08:00

Quick ones: I have temporarily lost the will to write.

Fake make up.

They use magic markers to draw on each other.

More precisely, Jo uses magic markers to draw on Lu and herself.

* Blue toenails, Lu's favourite colour

* And Jo's rainbow coloured toes

girly games 5

2012-01-13T23:22:00.003+08:00

Dressing up.

There is a particular shelf in their wardrobe which opens a gateway to sartorial splendor.

It’s where I chuck all the shiny sequined poufy dresses, skirts and costumes from a few year’s worth of school concerts and which the girls raid once every few days.

They change, they pull out socks, hats, scarves, bags, jewellery and sometimes even shoes which I draw the line at.

* Dresses, jackets, baby mittens

* Lu's idea of rainy-day fashion

They then mince over my wardrobe and open the door, so they can preen and primp in front of the only mirror in the entire house (apart from bathrooms), and they fantasize.

Jo is particularly set on Twinning with Lu. She insists that they both wear similar styles. Not colour, but styles. So it must be poufy skirts for both, or long-sleeved shirts for both, or pants for both.

* Flowered shirts and hats

Sometimes, if Jo bathes first, she pops her head into the bathroom where Lu is bathing to ask: What are you going to wear, Lulu?

Of course Lu doesn’t know or care (Lu isn’t interested in matching). Then Jo stays naked until Lu is done so she can be sure that they match.

girly games 4

2012-01-12T23:55:00.006+08:00

Dolls.

The girls really like playing with dolls.

Ninety percent of the time, it’s Milly and Molly from Darwin.

Milly and Molly have their own cardboard house painted by the girls which is falling apart because it's held up with scotch tape.

* Jody's Milly on the left, and Lulu's Molly (in pink) on the right, in their home

The girls put Milly and Molly to bed, feed them, read them stories, give them medicine when they're sick, ride with them on the tricycle, change their underwear.

Occasionally, the dogs (Rosy and Max) or some other calefare soft toy makes an appearance. But it's always been about Milly and Molly.

girly games 3

2012-01-11T23:15:00.005+08:00

Playing school is another big thing.

The girls surround themselves with imaginary friends and teachers. A popular character is a naughty little boy called Ethan whom they are perpetually scolding.

"Ethan. why did you pee in class? Ethan, why did you spill your food? Ethan, stop talking!"

Today the girls decide to go to different schools. Lu in the Bedroom School where she mostly covers herself with a blanket and plays sick.

Jo in the Balcony School.

But school itself is not important. Jo just wants to play fetching Lu to and from school on the tricycle (it's still standing!) or on her back, and Lu just wants to play sick.

Once they reach "home", they go to sleep before waking up again. I think they do the whole cycle 15 times. Or more. They really love going to school when it's not real.

(On an off-note, Jo is incredibly strong and she can effortlessly carry Lulu OR David. She reminds me of those amazing strong Nepalese girls who carry their siblings in a basket secured with nothing but a strap around their foreheads. Jo loves sweeping Lu off her feet.)

When Day is done with his homework, he joins the girls and in playing teacher in the Balcony School, actually manages to teach Jo how to do multiplication.

Make it real, boy!

girly games 2

2012-01-10T23:33:00.003+08:00

When it comes to flights of imagination, the girls beat the boy hands down.

Jo and Lu indulge in a lot of play-acting which Day really has no interest in unless there is an engineering component, like having to make a door. Or curtains.

Playing house is a big, huge, deal.

Tonight they set up their little pink tent and decide to sleep in it.

Lu: Jo, you be the chae-chae and I’ll be the baby OK?

There’s a lot of fake drinking of milk from milk bottles (something which I suspect they crave because it’s something they never got to do), opening of windows, arranging beds.

For a brief moment, though, reality sets in.

Jo: Lulu, switch on the light. It’s night time.
Lu: (going through the motion)
Jo: Lulu, the light is not on.
Lu: Jody, we are PRETENDING.

* Jo later runs out for a torch. That's what she meant. Just in case she reads this next time and thinks I made her look stupid.

girly games 1

2012-01-09T22:51:00.002+08:00

There is no way of telling, looking at the girls now, whether they are on the cusp of forging a beautiful lifelong sisterly bond or whether this is the beginning of uncomfortable competitive conflict.

There is competition aplenty. But there’s also lots of loving.

These days, of all the people they encounter in the day, Jo spends the most time with Lu and vice versa. (Although if you asked Lu if she loved Jo she would retort NO.)

Most afternoons, Day and I are off going our separate ways doing our own thing (homework and housework respectively) while the girls do their own thing.

They play so well together, every time I try to join in they look at me with a twinge of disdain, like I’m the amateur bumbling into their well-rehearsed play. They momentarily pause their games to wander: What are we going to do with Mummy, now that she’s here?

Here’s a record of their games, so we can remember when they eventually stop.

BATHTIME GAMES

They bathe together. They spend a long time in there, 15-20 minutes. They soap each other, scrub each other, giggle at their own slippery bodies.

There is a lot of water, scooping, squeezing into pails and a whole lot of pretending.

Today they make a foot spa with two chairs, a pail and a ton of body wash.

surfer dad

2012-01-07T23:46:00.005+08:00

KK's 40 and a light has gone on in his head: He wants to re-live his Olympian days.

First it was the cycling to and from work which has been going on for six months, and is still going strong, rain or shine.

Then suddenly, as we approached the end of the year, he announced that he is going to start windsurfing, a sport which he had stopped oh, maybe seven or more years ago to replace with golf.

I ask: “Are you not going to golf anymore?”

He says: “No. I’m still going to. When it’s off-season I can play golf.”

Both windsurfing and golf are peopled with what they called widows. Once I was a windsurfing widow who lamented my boyfriend’s utter lack of attention, and then a golf widow.

These days, 10 years three kids in, I am of universal benevolence and as long as he is happy, I am happy. (in other words, I don’t care!)

Honestly. I like that he is going to windsurf again. I have always thought of my husband as a windsurfer than a golfer.

Operation Windsurf is short and sharp. When KK makes up his mind, he doesn’t stop to consider options. In two days, he installs a roof rack on the car and gets his hands on a board, a mast, a boom, a sail, surf shorts, harness, life jacket.

My mother and brother Teng see the equipment on the car and they are slightly numb with surprise, that a golfing father of three young kids has so much time.

Teng, possibly thinking that windsurfing is life-threatening, asks: Did he buy insurance?

D-day arrives.

Saturday, a blistering hot day, our whole family drive out to a little corner of Changi Beach which is peopled with windsurfers and kitesurfers.

Me and the kids spread out our picnic mat under the coconut trees – thank God for good shade - and tear into our usual ham-cheese-cucumber combo.

KK suits up and waits.

Once the wind starts blowing away our hats and food, he steps onto the board and sails off. To my great surprise, he doesn’t fall once.

Day is curious, for a while.

The girls do not pay attention. After a while, we go back to making sand pits and hills, burying odds and ends (slippers and food wrappers) all over the beach and taking photos. Which is what we end up doing for over three hours.

The man doesn’t stop. While is mildly disconcerting because the wind is gusting and for a 40-year-old to be planning up and down, exercising parts of his body he hasn’t used in seven years on a brand new set of equipment, is not kosher.

When I catch him, I bluster: If you drop the sail out there, there’s no boat to tow you back! What am I going to do? And you’re killing yourself! I just wrote a story on exercising and the worst thing to do is to punish yourself until you are black and blue! You should build up slowly! Gradually! Let’s go home NOW!

Deaf ears. Back he goes. It’s too damn thrilling.

* KK manages a gybe (at about 15 seconds)

Everytime I see people windsurfing, I wish I could do it. The thrill is something else. But the pain and the work and the skill required (yes I tried) is ridiculous.

We ask the kids, all tired out in the car, if they want to windsurf. All three instantaneously shout NO! Pui.

Aftermath: For the rest of Saturday, he hobbles, his arms and back and abdomen hurt, his face and arms are brick-red, he’s wasted! But he’s OK on Sunday.

Now we need to find a way to make the entire beach experience a better one for the waiting family. A tent, perhaps. Board games. The Tab.

waking up

2012-01-05T23:47:00.005+08:00

Back to routine, early days and early nights.

It's a bit of a relief the holidays are over. The kids were sleeping later than us (past midnight) but who's in the mood to police them?

Not us, for sure.

The girls in the morning, however, are two inert logs. They're not quite back into the grind yet.

I clap very loudly into their ears and rattle them up bodily, but it takes a long time and by the time they crack open an eye, I'm tired already.

gone

2012-01-03T18:25:00.008+08:00

In what must have been one of the most heart-stopping moments of 2011, Day and Jo simply walked out of the house one night past 9pm and disappeared.

Why?

Day had misplaced KK’s lighter (for aromatherapy, not cigarettes). KK was mightily pissed off and told him to get a new one, thinking that even if the boy went, it would be on his own, to the nearby petrol station.

Instead, once again, the door clicked quietly, so quietly both I and KK, locked at our desks mired in work, did not hear anything.

Until a good 15 minutes later when I suddenly realized that only Lu had been coming to me for service.

KK, still miffed, went downstairs to the petrol station fully expecting both to be there.

He came up a while later – Are the kids back?

I said no. He said, They’re not there. Where are they?

He lurched back out into the dark night, heart in his mouth, scouring the pavements on both sides of the busy road.

In his absence, I did the laundry with a pounding heart. I asked Lu: Why didn’t you go? Because theoretically, she could have and we would have been none the wiser.

She said, all unconcerned and wondering at the fuss – I’m too small, lah.

It took another 10 minutes. At about 10, the door banged open and the two burst in.

Where did you go, I asked calmly.

They had gone to the nearby shopping centre, which entails crossing several small roads and one big one with a traffic light, to look for a lighter after trying the petrol station. They found it. Along with the lighter, Day bought Jo a tube of sweets from 7-11.

KK strides in. All he said was this – An ambulance passed by, sirens wailing, and I ran after it. I thought that was it.

He tears into Day, particularly since the boy was not even holding Jo’s hand when KK saw them.

Day protests. Jo had insisted on following him. He's walked the route many times.

But the fact remains that they had gone out without telling us, it was late at night and Jo went along.

Both kids are sent to bed in tears.

Why am I recounting this?

Because a few weeks after, Lu walks out of the house, my freaking three-year-old. She opened the door, put on her shoes, walked down three flights of steps, strode across the carpark and by the time I saw her she was almost out the big estate gate, about 10 metres from the main road.

I shriek and scream at her from the balcony to stop.

She said she wanted to pick flowers from the roadside to decorate the house.

Today, she asks me nicely for permission and I decide to bring her. “I want to buy something from the petrol station,” she says, holding Jo’s coin box which holds about two dollars worth of ten-cent coins.

She picks out purple grape sweets, makes me carry her up to the counter so she can pay the auntie, says ‘thank you’ and walks back home with me so she can dole out the sweets to her siblings.

How quickly they grow.

to friends

2012-01-01T23:50:00.003+08:00

Funny, how, for us, Christmas and New Year is time to meet friends while Chinese New Year is time to meet relatives.

But that's just us.

We do some singing...

* Janet, Zhirong and kids Benz and Zoe

... eat a whole lot (to which I have come to the conclusion that everyone else does a better job of preparing food than me, Thank God I have my mum to come to the rescue)...

* Clearly not hosted by me! Fab food at Joyce's...

... and say HI to dear old friends like Vera.

bye, 2011

2011-12-30T22:45:00.003+08:00

The year in a nutshell.

For Day, a year of mega Growing Up as he starts Primary 1 and develops the confidence to navigate the world on his own. (buying things, walking to nearby places..)

For Jo, a year of re-discovering her Difficult Roots and re-surfacing some of the traits which bring us all back to her Terrible Twos. (stubborn...)

For Lu, also a year of mega Growing Up as she starts Nursery 1 and grows into her persona as a very friendly, happy, sweet little creature.

For me, it's Annus Horribilis, a truly stressful year capped in the last quarter with a mysterious skin issue which looks set to carry on to 2012 and beyond, bless me.

For KK, he successfully starts a cycling-to-and-from-work regime and psychs himself up for a big exam in 2012.

Happy picture to end off.

our xmas presents

2011-12-25T23:41:00.005+08:00

The trio had been planning and plotting since November, when they knew Christmas was on its way. I think Day was the mastermind.

They asked us for money outright. Which we refused to give.

Then they performed all sorts of errands for money. The big earner turned out to be bathing Lu. For bathing Lulu, we’d give the bather (Day or Jo) 50 cents, which is a good rate.

Then they coyly started asking us what kind of things we liked.

To KK’s answers of “Golf bag etc etc,” their faces fell.

To my answers of “Nothing lah, mummy doesn’t want anything,” their faces fell even further.

Boring old adults.

As 25 December drew nearer, they would surreptitiously check out price tags at the nearby shopping centre, and in desperation, the game was up.

“We don’t have enough money to buy you anything for Christmas!” Day burst out.

I bit my lip and gave the stock answer: “It’s OK, kids, mummy doesn’t need anything from you. As long as you all are healthy and happy and behave yourselves, I’m happy.”

But desperation grew. They asked outright: “Mummy, can we have $10 to buy you a present?”

In the end, they got their $10. I didn’t give it to them, it was a dollar bill which a friend passed to me via Jo, and Jo clung on to it.

A few days before Christmas, they made me bring them to the shopping centre.

The trio were to have gone on their own together while I waited for them in the supermarket, but in the end Jo and Lu wanted to stay with me. Day went off solo and came back with a plastic bag of… something.

Back home, he surreptitiously wrapped it up with white paper – because our wrapping paper had all run out – and wrote his name.

Why did he only write his name?

“Because I was the one who bought it and wrapped it,” he replied.

Two identical boxes, two identical presents which rattle when shaken.

Christmas Day, KK and I unwrap our presents, the first paid merchandise we ever get from our kids.

What is it?

Two boxes of 2B pencils. Twelve high quality blacklead Faber-Castell pencils.

Thanks, kids.

helping a sahm

2011-12-22T23:23:00.001+08:00

The best thing a friend can do for a stay-home mum? (especially those without a helper)

* Spend a few hours with her at home
* Take over her kids so she can sleep
* Occasionally engage in some idle gossip with her so she gets to enjoy some stimulating conversation (yes gossip counts as stimulating)
* Engage her kids, as in really talk to them and not foist them in front of the TV and even teach them some good values like sharing

Theresa, always appreciated!

passing on the violins

2011-12-19T23:53:00.004+08:00

There are three small violins in our house which have not been opened or touched for two decades.

They are a quarter, a half and a three-quarter sized.

These are the violins I grew up with, which accommodated my lengthening arms and fingers, from the age of five or thereabouts.

Mothers like to talk about passing things on to their children in the rosy hope for continuity.

I have never had the slightest compunction for any of the trio to pick up the violin.

Truth be told: It’s just too much work for me to keep them disciplined and intent on an instrument which frankly involves a lot of pain.

Neck pain, chin pain, finger pain, back pain, leg pain.

If the violin bug should somehow bite sometime, then they are welcome to tap on the free products (violins) and services (me) at home.

But for these three, they have never been interested in the violin. Day, in fact, used to sob as a little boy whenever he heard me play.

Sometimes I wonder if we should be more pushy in making them do things which they may not necessarily want to now, but will appreciate in future. But then, it’s really not us.

For sure, though: If Day doesn’t start the violin about now (and I’m pretty sure he won’t), he will never be more than average.

Maybe Lu? Last chance!

lu's bike trauma

2011-12-18T17:54:00.003+08:00

I cycle with Lu strapped in the bicycle child seat and the bike falls over with her in it. Three times. It’s never happened but this time was truly jinxed.

Why?

* The bike is really heavy at the back, and I wrongly wrestle with it with both hands on the handlebar instead of gripping the child seat. So the bike falls down because it’s so back-heavy.

* I am wearing long pants and twice my pants get caught in the bike as I am cycling, which makes me fall. Why am I wearing long pants? The antibiotic I am on for a month makes one prone to sunburn, and in any case I automatically cover up my hairy polka-dotted legs in public.

Lu, the little trouper, doesn’t cry every time she falls. She just automatically holds out a little hand to try to break her fall every time and so, her hand is a bit scraped.

Each time she falls, she implores me “Mummy, I don’t want to fall again” and I let her down. Twice.

KK rips into me for pants and incorrect bike-holding method.

I rip back because I think he should be the one with the child behind in the first place, not I.

We exchange bikes in a huff and cycle back in the drizzle.

Home, KK removes the child seat and junks it.

So that’s the end of our six-year-old child seat.

I don't know how we are going to do family cycling again.

more teeth gone

2011-12-14T22:50:00.002+08:00

Day pulls out two of his own loose teeth in the past week, one on top and one below. That would make it #4 and #5.

Perhaps emboldened by KK, he no longer has any qualms about yanking them out himself. I cringe inside, but outwardly scrutinize his bloody gum with a cool "Oh great".

I can't believe how many of his teeth are suddenly shedding.

And I can't believe how mis-aligned his teeth lineup is. I spot the buds of permanent teeth which are right smack in between the milk teeth. And his top and bottom rows of teeth don't meet in the centre.

I hear rumblings of "braces" but what's the point when everything is still moving around?

sea moments

2011-12-13T22:10:00.005+08:00

Random holiday moments to remember.

Primping Jo
Gong Gong and Por Por having a laughing fit as they service Jo, in preparation for a formal suit-and-dress dinner at the Romeo and Juliet restaurant (I’m bathing Lu). He is drying Jo’s hair and Por Por is combing out the tangles as Jo admires herself in the mirror.

Blur Menu
Por Por forgets her specs and cannot read a single word on the lunch menu. She passes the menu to Day and asks him for help. After a long pause, Day says he can’t. Por Por asks why. He pipes up: It’s all in CHINESE. Por Por, tears in her eyes because she’s laughing so hard, turns to Gong Gong who duly translates.

Gale
The wind on board on the top exposed deck (which is a pseudo jogging track) is so strong one of my key cards is blown away and everyone has difficulty walking against the gale.

Midnight Party
One night, I leave three sleeping kids alone in the cabin and sneak out to check out the party on the top deck. Hey I can’t sleep at 9pm.

Shopping Tedium
The kids and I wait and wait as Gong Gong and Por Por merrily follow the taxi driver’s suggestions to shop at a whole load of crowded Penang shops. I don’t like shopping. But Jo and Lu are thrilled at the 10RM Barbie dolls - their first Barbies - which Gong Gong buys for them.

Malaysian taxis
Lu looks around the Malaysian taxi cab and asks, pointing to the lock and window crank: What’s this? I had not realized that she has never seen those mechanisms in a Singapore vehicle. The girls also ask me why the seats are wearing T-shirts.

Penang Food
Savouring chendol, Penang laksa and char kway teow in a roadside coffeeshop. On that note, the girls could not stomach the Malaysian toilets, wet floors, squats and all. Lu held her nose and cried while Jo manfully held in her sphincters until we got back to the ship. Dear me. Do any young Singaporean kids know how to squat and do their business?

sea likes

2011-12-12T22:52:00.004+08:00

The bare facts:

Cruise: Legend of the Seas (Royal Carribean)
Duration: Four days and three nights
Stops: Penang (Day 2) and Malacca (Day 3)
People: Two thousand onboard, of which 1,500 are Singaporean
Party: Me, 3 kids, 2 grandparents

What Day Liked

Free as a gull, Day cruised the ship on his own with a Seapass card (sort of a key card) in hand: Looking for his grandparents, looking for food, going rock-climbing (he didn’t make it to the top of the 30-foot wall), playing miniature golf.

He says he liked the rock-climbing and miniature golf.

What Jo Liked

On stepping aboard the ship, Jo pronounces: I want to stay here forever.

When every need is met and catered to, who wouldn’t!

She particularly likes the restaurants. The mass buffet line Windjammer Café, which is a haven for kids and non-fussy adults like me, and the fine-dining chandeliered Romeo & Juliet Cafe which serves wine and dishes like escargot.

What Lu Liked

I just asked her and she said: I like the bed.

We have two pull-outs above which are just the right height for diving onto the double bed below.

Lu gazes upon the sea which is about one storey below us, from our window, before going to sleep every night. We could have stayed in our room for hours.

What I Liked

As usual: The total lack of accountability, no Internet, no TV, no Facebook, no mobile. I’m the sort who would feel liberated if I could dump my mobile and all other electronic devices into the sea.

Oh and the clean sea breeze. And being able to eat anytime I want (which was often and a lot).

sail away

2011-12-08T22:25:00.001+08:00

Tomorrow we leave KK.

I, the three kids and my folks are going on a weekend cruise.

Every male member of the family – including my two brothers – consider a cruise a boring jail on the high seas which they would rather die than go on. My father being the exception.

The children are incredibly excited to be going somewhere.

Jo’s first reaction: I don’t want to fall into the water!

But they’ve got right into packing their bags, from jewellery down to books. Day wanted to bring his Chinese tuition homework. I gently said, No Need.

On hindsight, I wish I had forcibly purchased a ticket for KK.

Now, his sentiment is that he would rather be in jail with his family than alone at home.

He’ll miss us, and we’ll miss him.

Silly man.

day plays pool

2011-12-06T23:32:00.003+08:00

Just to state for the record that the first time Day plays pool is under Auntie Theresa’s tutelage.

Does he get it?

Of course not. He spends his time mostly whacking balls around with Ethan, for whom we have a small party to celebrate his 6th birthday.

Charming Ethan in a moody moment...

It's a party, as one of the wordsmiths amongst us said, of "drama, tears, fights, quiet insecurities, laughter and just sweet smiles".

oriental girl

2011-12-05T14:32:00.001+08:00

cycling in the rain

2011-12-04T22:11:00.002+08:00

There’s something very refreshing about cycling in the rain.

With all the gray clouds that have been looming over Singapore in recent weeks, we were caught, after cycling in the blistering noonday heat, in a downpour at the beach.

Pictures taken before it rained:

* Jo in front of me

Waiting it out was not an option as we had made a prior appointment.

So off we went.

The kids were delighted, including fussy Jo.

They admired the water sprays coming out from the back wheels of the bike in front, laughed as their clothes became transparent and didn’t mind when water started leaking into their bike helmets.

the sweetest child

2011-12-04T00:03:00.003+08:00

KK reports to me what Lu does when I am away for a gig tonight:

She picks up my night dress which is in a heap on the floor, hugs it tight for a while then painstakingly puts it onto a hanger.

When I come home, I find it neatly hanging off the wardrobe door, which is a first in this house (neatly presented clothes).

She also has a habit of taking blankets or scarves to cover me up when I am sleeping. She makes sure every inch is covered, including my toes.

KK says: She loves you so much. She's fanatic about you.

I had no idea.

I mean, I know the kids love me but not to Lu's lovesick extent.

My heart melts. And suddenly I feel sorry for all the times I am so, so hard on her. All the times when she spills milk or biscuits or some such thing on the floor, and she immediately says sorry, but my face is still full of anger.

3rd tooth off

2011-12-02T21:44:00.005+08:00

In a corner of Kallang Leisure Park, somewhere nearby the Pasta Mania outlet, KK reaches into Day’s mouth with a piece of tissue and yanks out his tooth.

* That's the one he's pushing out with his tongue

It’s the third milk tooth Day has shed.

A day after a fall at the playground, it had been hanging by a thread and last night there was a pool of dried blood on his bed near his face.

But the boy, paranoid as I, could not bring himself to tear it loose.

The entire day, he held up a mirror to his mouth and looked at the tooth: Examining, worrying, stressing, hoping against hope that it would miraculously fall out on his own in the next instant without pain.

Truly, I bequeath him the worry-wart’s legacy (one which my dad left me), one defined by a paralysis of fear over medical issues. (And he wants to be a doctor!)

It took a fair bit of persuasion before he let KK near his mouth. But in a second, the tooth was out. And then came blessed relief as he finally managed to eat.

girls graduate

2011-12-01T21:59:00.002+08:00

Two very different graduation pictures.

Lu tells me she is holding a toilet roll.

slave for you

2011-11-30T22:12:00.001+08:00

It’s easy to become a slave.

Every day, I am a slave in many ways.

Jo yells “Yee, mummy, there’s a bone in my chicken!” and my natural impulse is to stop whatever I am doing, spring into the kitchen from wherever I am and hand her a tissue or a receptacle to receive the offending bone.

Service with a smile, man.

Because sometimes the orders and demands come so fast and furious, it’s far harder to stop and take time to teach the little ones the right way to go.

In ascending order of imperiousness: Day, Lu, Jo.

Day is Mother #2 and he is often at the receiving end of the orders. Gor-gor, bathe for me, take the toy for me, open the door for me, wear my shoes for me, cook miso soup for me, make me a cup of honey.

He’s a bit of a slave himself, sometimes to me as well, when I’m prostrate on the bed and I make him fetch and carry. (the cruelty of being the only boy in a household of three females)

Lu has her ridiculous moments. Like she insists that I stand by her when she uses the loo, but it seems part of a phase.

Jo is the Princess wanna-be. I have given her the princess lecture several times – “There are NO princesses in this house! Everyone does their part!” – particularly when she makes me feel like a dog.

Some of her quirks just from the morning school run:
* I must hand her her school bag in the correct direction so she can slip her arms in
* Her water bottle must be bone-dry before I pass it to her and woe betide me if I put it into her bag (she is paranoid about water leakage)
* The zip must be closed right to the last millimeter, any gap and she gives a very loud “Tsk, MUMMY!”

Reminds me of this.

But at least now, she is open to reason.

She obediently spit the chicken bone onto the side of her bowl when I looked at her and said: Do you really need me to catch the bone from your mouth?

lu in the pool

2011-11-29T22:04:00.002+08:00

Poor Lu.

It seems a lot of posts about the third child start with “Poor”!

This time, it’s about pool time.

Lu swims alone.

Each time Day and Jo go for swim class, I dump bumblebee Lu into the pool and let her do her own thing.

I gaze at her sometimes, as I walk around the pool making sure she’s safe, and I wish I could get in there to play, splash around, lead her, or give her a little whale ride.

But I can’t touch pool water no more.

She’s, as usual, the happiest little trouper. With her float, she sort of lunges around the pool making up little stories about her friends, collecting leaves, looking for her siblings and telling me what she’s doing.

I verbally tell her to kick her way around and demonstrate on dry land - probably looking a little moronic - but that, I know, is never the same as getting in there with her.

concert weekend

2011-11-27T22:54:00.007+08:00

It’s a busy, busy weekend of concerts.

SCHOOL CONCERT

First up is Day and Jo’s school concert.

* The teachers: Kimberly, Yunyun, Alexis, Natalie, Dani, Jenny, Nidia

Day is technically not a student, but he counts as alumni!

Jo takes part in something like five items. She is quite the attention-seeker, but again performs brilliantly in all her items, from wushu to dance to speech & drama.

I really feel incredibly proud watching her on stage.

Lu, we decide to save the $250 and not let her take part because, well, it's $250. Next year...

REMIX CONCERT

The next day is my concert with re:mix.

It's the first time I have played since I stopped at Lu's birth. That's about three years now?

As usual, it's thoroughly enjoyable.

* Me, Shao Ying, Flora, Ye Zhi, Shao Suan

* I'm happy!

And this year, for the first time, all three kids attend with KK.

I reckoned it was OK because the concert is short, with lots of short melodious pieces like Yellow Submarine, Que Sera Sera and Xiao Bai Chuan. Not least, one of their favourites, Carnival of the Animals re-interpreted (as a nostalgic school memory).

They are also delighted to see their art works featured in the programme.

alone with day

2011-11-25T19:57:00.001+08:00

He’s such a nice little boy.

I forget.

It’s holidays now, he’s free and he’s with me.

He makes for pleasant company, and when I need to do my own things he does his own thing.

Today I bring him to the bookshop and he makes an odd purchase.

Of all the nice, innocuous books there, he decides to buy a very graphic photographic tome on 120 diseases, complete with photos of open surgery and pages which make me want to snap the book shut.

I wince as he stares very hard at a photo of the privates of someone with testicular cancer.

Then he looks carefully at me, turns the pages and pronounces: Mum I think you have shingles.

Well. Some parts, yes, I probably look it.

He’s still on track to doctor-hood.

cat and dog

2011-11-22T21:27:00.000+08:00

My grandma used to call Choon and I cat and dog.

We fought like crazy.

I can’t remember over what, but one particular episode, where he pulled my pants down as I was running up the stairs and I was furious as hell, comes to mind.

Of late, Day and Jo have arrived.

No longer the harmonious loving brother-sister pair, an average day is filled with punches and shrieks.

Why?

Day seems to have turned a tad aggressive towards Jo. In a way, I empathise, because Jo is difficult.

She plies Day with 1,001 questions a day, hammering away at him until he wants to tear his ears off, demands that he give her whatever he is having and generally expects him to be her slave.

Day’s frustrations have mounted over the months. At first, he used to threaten her – “I won’t give you sweets!” But her reaction, a never-ending deafening wail of angst and grief, proved so monumentally overwhelming to everyone within hearing vicinity I ordered Day not to threaten her with the withdrawal of imaginary sweets again.

These days, he swings, punches, curses and swears.

A sampling of his hissing: “Jo I tell you you’re so FAT I’m going to burn you alive then all your fats will melt away and you’ll become a skeleton! GRRRR!”

Of course, we work on Jo, because the issue really lies with her and not Day.

It’s work in progress.

my blessings

2011-11-21T20:59:00.014+08:00

My four beautiful blessings.

Every single one of my blog entries counts those blessings, thank God, but I just want to say it again.

I also don't give enough credit to the man whom I lean on every single time I need a rock, who quietly takes on all dish-washing and kid-bathing responsibility and who has just, incredibly, told me he is willing to forgo our place and move back to my folks if it would help my skin get better.

The past few weeks he's spent a fortune at Eu Yan Sang buying things and brewing soup to build up my immunity.

I'm still screwed up, but knowing that someone cares for me is, at this point, is such a huge teary deal.

The emo factor is probably hormonal: Meds and the never-ending skin issue sharpening my feelings and making feel like I love and need them every single moment, so much so that I fear being left alone with my thoughts these days.

Gotta count those blessings.

flower dome

2011-11-20T11:45:00.003+08:00

In a very rare proactive act, KK gets us all tickets to the World Orchid Show.

But he didn’t really want to go to the show. He wanted the family to check out the Flower Dome at Gardens by the Bay.

* Lu doing something weird

It’s one of the two glass conservatories, just over the size of two football fields, which will require an admission charge when it’s officially open in June next year.

At one point, KK had worked on the Gardens by the Bay project. So as we drive in, he tells us that a colleague designed the carpark while many others were working as “tour guides” that day.

KK actually likes plants, he was going around with his iPhone taking photos, and was quite taken with this tree with a trunk of twisty branches.

My sun-phobic kids – “It’s so hot, mama!” (jeez) – exhale in pleasure when we enter the Dome because it feels just like Sydney. Lots of sunshine with cool, dry (air-conditioned) air.

* Two levels: The flower field below, and the cactuses / bottle trees on top

Day looks like he enjoyed himself, running around looking at the plants. But post-trip, when we ask him, he says he didn’t like it!

Jo made me take photographs of all the flowers, which she was very taken with. It was an agonizingly slow journey with her, through the flower beds, as KK and Day skipped ahead.

Lu was most taken with the wooden animal seats. In particular, the crocodile which she was feeding with white stones.

* She also loved the mama and baby turtle

KK wanted to show us the lake and the themed gardens outdoors.

But we were forced to retreat for lunch when the kids went – “It’s so hot, mama!”

Day in particular whined: “It’s 1.30, the hottest part of the day! We should not be out in the sun!”

I think I hear myself there.

* Damned frus in the sun

"i'm scared"

2011-11-19T22:47:00.003+08:00

Day tugged on my elbow and softly uttered “I’m scared” to me before we made our way up to the school stage.

I was genuinely surprised: He wasn’t alone.

He was going to be part of a troupe of nearly 30 kids singing onstage and they were all singing together. He didn’t have to do anything unusual.

He said he was afraid of facing the entire school.

(The troupe was presenting a farewell item, "Edelweiss" to the departing principal as school closes for the year)

So it’s pretty certain: He’s a shy one!

* Rehearsing with his friends and looking a bit scared before the performance

dessert trio

2011-11-18T22:20:00.005+08:00

The ingredients I throw to them, when they suddenly announce that they want to make a dessert: Strawberries, canned longan, fragrant pear.

The ingredients they manage to dig up themselves from odd corners of the fridge: Chocolate chips, raisins, biscuits, remainder tau suan, bits of nata de coco.

Each come up with a dessert. Here are the three plates. It's clear who made which!

Or is it?

* A smiling sun. The tau suan is liberally drizzled in the centre, presumably to colour the sun yellow...?

* A smiling face. The biscuits are eyebrows

* No face, but this is the plate which was finished first. It's a practical pragmatic plate of dessert which serves its purpose.

he lao shi

2011-11-17T23:44:00.005+08:00

Day's Chinese teacher, He Lao Shi, looks at me from beneath her brows as I approach her table for the end-year Parent Teacher Meeting.

She looks downright disapproving and as Day and I sit down, she sighs.

"This semester, he's not done well at all, not at all," she clucks. "Look at his file. He did much better last semester. He's at the bottom of my class."

I glance at Day's mark. It's 83 percent.

And why his score is the lowest is possibly because he's in the Chinese Enrichment module, which is the top of the three Chinese bands the pupils are streamed into. I never could figure out why he was in Enrichment.

The top 10 scores in his class are all above 95 percent. I see how I as a mum have already lost out to other mums out there! (I say mums because these scores probably have little to do with the kids)

For Chinese, I don't do any sort of extra work with Day except trying to speak some Chinese with him when I fetch him from school, which is clearly insufficient.

Still, He Lao Shi's abject disappointment seems to reflect a failure on her part rather than Day's part, and it looks to me as if her ranking or performance as a teacher this year has somehow been pulled down by Day's result, hence the bitter sighs.

"His speaking and listening is particularly bad," she pronounced.

Next to me, Day quails. He bites his bottom lip and he shrinks into his chair.

Earlier, he had begged me not to go see He Lao Shi. He may have been pyschologically traumatized by this woman.

Finally, Mdm He closes her file and flicks her mane of long hair. "He's at the bottom of my class," she says, again.

I see now why the boy had begged me for Chinese remedial classes.

for her friend

2011-11-14T23:36:00.003+08:00

Lu has always been Little Miss Sweet.

The other day she decides she wants to paint and cut out Ben 10 for the boy she likes best in class, Ethan.

She sticks to mainly painting.

While Jo and I help her with the rest of the drawing and mixing of colours.

Hooray, Lu!

111111

2011-11-12T23:15:00.004+08:00

The date was booked from a year ago: On 11th November 2011, we will be celebrating the kids’ Kum Por’s birthday. (That’s Auntie Margaret.)

* Auntie Margaret, Uncle Swee Chan, kids' Gong Gong and Por Por

The girls hear the word “birthday” and they swing into action.

They reject all the muted, classy outfits I pick out for them (presumably too boring and bland) and pour themselves into their ugh matching neon-pink tutus, complete with their hand-made bead jewellery, paper crowns and G-clef brooches.

This is their par-tay uniform.

At the Conrad Hotel’s swanky Golden Peony Restaurant, Jo, puzzled at what seems to be a quiet sit-down Chinese dinner with a lot of old people, asks: Where’s the party packs?

Sorry, girl. There’s a huge difference between a six and a 60-year-old’s birthday, even if Auntie Margaret is very young-at-heart!

But them being them, they have a whale of a time prowling the Conrad dragging their sorry mother with them. They soon discover the heavy metal curtain sheets - the one feature which for me distinguishes the Conrad - and play for 10 minutes swinging the chains until security stops them.

Lu collects wasabi peas from a wedding one floor below.

Jo moans about how she cannot find anyone to play with her. Cousin Janine (next to her) mostly plays with other kids.

But oh, the food. We don’t often eat at restaurants where food art is placed on tiny plates (Crystal Jade is our usual upper limit), so I take photos of every dish.

The kids have a fascinatingly different menu altogether of mostly fried stuff which tastes just as swell.

WHAT WE (and Kids) ALL HAVE: Longevity buns with char siew and lotus paste filling

WHAT WE HAVE: Barbecued suckling pig with pancake and beancurd skin. Sliced mocha-flavoured salmon

WHAT KIDS HAVE: Siew mai and fried-something, possibly fish-cake and prawn

WHAT WE HAVE: Baby abalone and conpoy with Chinese cabbage and chicken double-boiled in whole coconut. * KK's Favourite.

WHAT KIDS HAVE: Corn soup. * All the kids' Favourite.

WHAT WE HAVE: Fillet of sea perch baked with Japanese bean sauce. * My Favourite.

WHAT KIDS HAVE: Sweet and sour fish and chicken nuggets

WHAT WE HAVE: Crispy longevity noodle and river king prawn topped with egg gravy.

WHAT KIDS HAVE: Fried rice (which I don't take a picture of because the kids are too full and I ta-bao)

WHAT WE HAVE: Double-boiled papaya with longan and fresh lily bulbs . Baked sweet potato filo pastry. Birthday cake.

WHAT KIDS HAVE: Ice cream and birthday cake

Ah. Good food is good.

growing pains

2011-11-10T23:58:00.004+08:00

Me being me, the first time Lu started waking up screaming in the middle of the night that her leg hurt, I went into full panic mode.

When she kept it up on a regular basis, once every week or every few weeks, I panicked even more.

What was this mysterious pain in her legs, bad enough to grip her in her sleep, which would have her grabbing her shins in agony and which would suddenly go away as mysteriously as it came?

It always comes on at night. It can affect either leg. It seems to be in her shins. It lasts for a few minutes. It goes away and she goes back to sleep. Next morning it’s as if it never happened.

Then I start noticing that it mostly occurs after a day of intense physical activity. Like if she had been practicing cycling or skate-scootering.

Ah. What do I do? I Google, of course.

Turns out that there are such things as growing pains affecting kids between the ages of 3 and 10, such that they get pains in their legs either late in the day or in the middle of the night. No known cause. Neither Day or Jo had anything remotely like it.

I gather that if it were something more sinister, there would be other accompanying symptoms. I hope Dr Google is right.

gardens by the bay east

2011-11-08T23:07:00.005+08:00

The much-touted Gardens by the Bay, Singapore’s second Botanic Gardens, is open. Well, the boring half of it.

The exciting part with the hump-backed conservatories which require an admission fee, and restaurants blooming up from the ground, are still closed, but Gardens by the Bay East is open.

* The carpark, past Tanjong Rhu

* Glass roof with leafy motifs at the entrance

It’s a still-raw tract of land past Tanjong Rhu with lots of track interspersed with golf green grass, trees which have not grown large enough to give shade, thin occasionally dried-up brown streams and the odd patch of colourful flowers.

* You have to really look for flowers to notice these. It's not the pretty sort of blooming garden.

But it’s good for kids to cycle and if one considers Marina Bay Sands and the Singapore Flyer a pretty scene, then it offers a good view.

In some way the gardens reminds me of Sydney’s Botanic Gardens (only much more humid), and the view it afforded of the Sydney Opera House and Harbour Bridge.

In the end the best spot in the park was? Under the expressway. It was the only place where shade was to be found, and a nice stiff breeze. It's where we had our picnic.

photoshop

2011-11-06T09:07:00.003+08:00

In the latest issue of the school newsletter, Day makes an appearance modeling the new school uniform.

It is a matter of convenience (seeking parental approval) because I wrote the accompanying story.

This is the picture which was published.

When the teacher sends me a soft copy for a keepsake, I laugh my head off! The girl is a year ahead of him but boy, Day's tiny!

girl gone wild

2011-11-04T10:59:00.002+08:00

There was a little girl who used to love playing with Day and Jo when they were babies.

I remember thinking that she made an excellent babysitter. For a nine-year-old, she made a strong case to me about why she should be allowed to carry them and she did, all over the house, while playing with and entertaining them.

She was warm, loving, very responsible and I liked her a lot.

Today, I learn that the now-14-year-old has run away from home for six days, sniffs glue, uses f-words on her mother and grandfather, has a piercing on her lower lip and mixes with 18-year-old boys.

Her family have reported her glue-sniffing to the police and she apparently ran away from home while out on bail.

In a way, for her, the writing was on the wall.

Without going into details, her family circumstances were chaotic and typical of the children who go on to become Beyond Parental Control cases. I said my piece, but there is only so much a third-party can do.

It just seems like yesterday, though, when she was all full of eager innocence. And I can imagine exactly what sort of wholesome teenager she would be today if she had the right sort of loving family.

talent showcase

2011-11-02T23:13:00.003+08:00

Day’s school holds a Talent Showcase during recess time.

It’s just a stage which allows any kid who wants to perform to do so.

* The teacher's surprise item. They're really good.

Does the boy perform? Of course not.

Run mainly by the parents (which teacher has the time?), today I play MC and solo judge balancing Lu on my knee, while three parents hide in the safety of logistics.

The event is a raucous cacophony of a few hundred kids being released for recess combined with sound system, microphone shrieks and some genuine talent.

Jo and Lu, turned away from pre-school because they had slight temperatures in the morning, are with me. They are silenced into submission and sit quietly watching for an hour.

The school pupils keep staring at the girls because they’re smaller and cuter than they are. More than a few try to play with them, but Jo and Lu have none of it.

* The boy who sticks himself between Jo and me

What do the kids mostly sing?

(It's another glimpse into the modern Singapore child's influences)

Songs by Taylor Swift and Fahrenheit, and Bruno Mars also seems to be a hit.

Who again?

perfect

2011-11-01T21:13:00.009+08:00

Determined to release myself from the spurts of stress and adrenaline which fuel a typical day, I have listened to my body in the past two weeks or so.

Partly driven by the homeopath’s assertion that skin flare-ups are stress-related, it is mainly that I think my immunity seems to have gone down on the whole: Inside (flus, fevers) and outside (eczema, skin infection).

I want to do what my body tells me to.

How?

I turned down jobs in droves. Finished existing ones in advance if I could so I never have to work late into the night or panic. Think “so what” if an editor is chomping at the bit – at most I lose the job. Quit mindless surfing and time-wasting on the Internet while trying to get inspired. Just get the bloody job done by latest midnight, good or bad, and fix it in the morning.

Go back to my folks for meals as much as possible. Resist the urge to be doing housework to relax. Don’t worry about the thousands of little ways whether the kids are being raised right. Put love and heart into what I’m doing at the moment (from laundry to painting with kids) and forget about what’s coming up.

And this is the pattern which emerges, for a caffeine-less day.

I think it’s normal and typical. But to find that I fit into it by actually listening to my body is quite a novelty!

* I need eight solid hours of sleep at night. Starting 11-ish, I get tired. I should get into bed with a book and be out by midnight.

* I need one good nap a day, sometime after lunch, for about 30 minutes. I take it. I tell the kids to do their own thing while I zone off. (with a teh tarik in the morning, my fav poison of choice, I might not need this)

* I need lots of small meals throughout the day.

* I think – it’s too early to tell – that I do feel better with tonics and supplements (Vit C and fish oil and all that)

I also think that moderate exercise fits in somewhere. Not jogging or intense cardio which I suspect wears me out now (I get very tired by the end of the day), but walking, yoga type stuff. Only I haven’t exercised in a month because of the skin.

I just want a record. This is important for if I lose my mind again somewhere down the line and set stupid financial achievement goals.

The reminders will also stare at me in the face every time I look down at myself, because the dark coin-sized marks from this last round will stay with me forever.

I also note that I am in a very lucky position to be able to even listen to my body, which I have actually never done before (usually I just push myself to do more, more, more)

I am thankful.

all down

2011-10-31T22:57:00.004+08:00

Day spreads it to everyone, including me. KK, again, is the lone champion. While Jo, the one we thought was impenetrable, is badly hit.

So it's TV time!

Hours and hours and hours of glorious unadulterated uncensored TV!

No naggy mum!

On okto, on the Tab, on Youtube!

Hello, Sound of Music!

day's mc

2011-10-29T22:25:00.004+08:00

Sometimes, all a sick person needs is rest to recuperate. Let the body do its job.

It’s pretty much what we have done with the kids all along so we don’t bring them to doctors – who can get very expensive - very much.

In pre-school, I would just pull them out of school for a few days and let them rest at home with some fever meds at most.

Primary school is a different story. Day is required to show proof of sickness. He has to go to the doctor.

He falls sick for the first time this year - which is a blessing really considering he’s been healthy all year - with a rather high fever and a slight cough.

* The sick eyes

What would have been rest at home with (free) meds from the home pharmacy becomes a trip to the doctor for a $38 medical certificate.

I am also given three bottles of medicine for fever, cough and phlegm, none of which I give Day, because I know what works better is a bottle of Progesic in the fridge. His body will settle the cough, and it has.

* The home pharmacy of mostly (Thank God) untouched meds

Of course it’s a different story if it’s serious but nine out of 10, it’s garden-variety bugs.

What a waste of medicine. There must be a better way of doing this.

anti-yolk

2011-10-28T23:27:00.004+08:00

The aftermath of hard-boiled egg breakfasts for Day and Jo.

What can I do with the yolks?

Lu rejects eggs altogether.

missing babies

2011-10-27T23:19:00.006+08:00

Flipping through the old blog entries, I suddenly realize: I have absolutely no memory of my kids in their baby days.

When I look at old pictures of Day, I absolutely cannot recall what he was like then. How he moved, how he sounded, how he smelt.

All I can think of is present Day, not baby Day.

Same with the girls.

I wonder, who are these kids with the cheeks?

Thank goodness for video.

But suddenly, I also find that I miss my babies a lot.

* Gosh, who's this??

who looks like me?

2011-10-25T12:21:00.005+08:00

I happened to scan in an old photo for an upcoming performance programme booklet.

How old was I?

Five. It was a very happy moment in a cable car, in 1980.

KK and I are in agreement. Though all three look very much like him, one of them looks a little more like me than the others.

bouquet for mama

2011-10-24T22:58:00.000+08:00

From Lu. Flowers stay alive for a day or two!

muffin time!

2011-10-23T23:18:00.005+08:00

This time, Choon makes muffins with the kids!

He pulls a recipe off the Net, asks what flavour the kids want and we all settle on Banana and Chocolate Muffins.

This time, it is Jo who is very much involved. Day seems to have outgrown the novelty and he runs to the computer in between popping into the kitchen to have a look.

Lu's job is to beat the egg.

And the product!

Of which the kids eat a few bites. They don't seem to like muffins. But the adults lap it up.

bachelor bearing bike

2011-10-22T22:46:00.004+08:00

The eligible bachelor (yes I have to) returns from Darwin on a mission to deliver to his brother-in-law a customized bicycle.

Bike nut Choon had ordered the parts from all over the world to be delivered to Darwin, and then got on a plane with bike parts in tow to assemble for KK in Singapore.

Bill for KK: About $1,800 for the bike and half of Choon’s airfare (it would have cost about the same to send the bike back on its own as unaccompanied baggage, so KK might as well pay so we can all enjoy Choon for a week)

Both KK and Choon were terrifically excited about the bike, which Choon had built according to KK’s specifications (comfort, speed, lightness in order of importance, for KK's 20km daily ride).

Just as a matter of record (because we find ourselves going back to the blog to check on stupid things like these), The Bike is a combination of parts Choon had lying around at home (handlebars and stuff) and the new:

* Fully-sealed hydraulic disc brakes

* Mavic disc rims which weigh all of 350g and Swiss-made DT spokes which are light and stiff

* Shimano XT hubs

* Shimano SLX cranks

* Selle SMP hybrid seat which offers a comfortable gap for KK’s package (really to me this seems the most important)

To my questions of so what, so what, so what, Choon says: It’s strong and light. Whatever.

KK took it for a spin and pronounced that it’s completely different from the Cannondale which he had bought to replace the stolen bike (and which is coming to me now).

Kids were over the moon that Kaofu Choon is back again.

As usual, everyone waits up for him, jumps into his arms, plays with him and rapidly finishes the gummies he brought over from Darwin.

jo's first "swim"

2011-10-19T10:38:00.004+08:00

A few weeks ago, we finally managed to persuade Jo to join Day’s swim class.

She is a most reluctant student who mostly tries her level best to stick out her tongue (not in naughty fashion, in a put-out fashion) and scoot away from Vincent whenever he even comes near or calls “Jody!”

Vincent, a most gentle coach, has thankfully figured out a way to sweet-talk, cajole and tease her into going through the motions.

She also wants me to sit a metre away from the pool at the poolside so she can climb out and run to me whenever.

Here she is going through the Freestyle motions, with life jacket. She has discovered the insurance which a life jacket provides and will only do what is required of her, with a life jacket.

I’m just very glad her head is in the water.

hair matter

2011-10-17T22:14:00.001+08:00

KK has an opinion about the girls’ hair: Long hair suits Jo so her big face looks smaller (“so much face”, he says), but short hair will bring out Lu’s small face.

So I bring Lu to the hair dresser.

BEFORE

DURING (which she is perfectly still and composed)

AFTER

a responsible first-born

2011-10-17T11:04:00.005+08:00

Something interesting about the first-born: He’s so responsible. (I wasn’t though)

And nothing brings it out more than Chinese.

While the rest of his life is pretty much a breeze, Chinese is a hurricane which throws him up and spits him out.

OK it’s not as bad as that.

But of late, he has come to me with a suggestion: Mummy I think I need Chinese remedial and tuition classes. I am making mistakes in my work. Can I have Chinese classes in the holidays?

He diligently does the Chinese assessment books which he asked me to pick off the shelf at Popular.

Earlier in the year, I also record an episode one night where he broke down into a creature pitiful to behold.

Eyes red, nose dripping, he was so moved he spoke in a series of hiccups. He had Chinese mo xie, which involves memorizing a passage and spewing it out for the test.

“But... but... I... I... don’t want to... to... get everything... wrong... tomorrow!”

I’m thinking seriously about the Chinese holiday classes. I can’t fault his earnestness.

little touches

2011-10-16T12:04:00.002+08:00

Our house is festooned with happy little bits and bobs from the kids.

Some of it, like pictures on the fridge, I put up.

Others are surprises which I suddenly spot as I am going round the house.

The kids liberally use scotch tape and double-sided tape on the walls and doors which is probably damaging (the blu-tack has run out), but who cares?

Most of it is from Day.

* A Lego pull for their favourite cupboard in the house - the junk cupboard

* A paper sun at the entrance of his room

* One of my favourites because it looks so happy. A jellyfish which pops out from the wall with rope tentacles

Some of it from Jo.

* Who sleeps in this room

* No food, no drinks, no sleeping (Jo says it means non-members of the family are not allowed to sleep in her room)

None from Lu, yet, but likely coming soon!

day cooking

2011-10-15T23:45:00.001+08:00

I wake up from a nap and walk in to the kitchen.

I find Day labouring over a pot of instant noodles.

I thought it was funny.

g12 eye

2011-10-13T21:36:00.003+08:00

Yoopee! I've got the new cam!

With the G12, I come full circle.

I started out with a Canon G2 and it's still in my drawer, unable to work, but till this day I still wish it could. To me, it was magic.

Kids through the new eye...

* His teeth are visibly moving as his mouth gets larger

* Pretending she has a fever

save my skin

2011-10-11T22:29:00.010+08:00

There’s only so much bravado you can have in life.

Here’s what I believed: That people will survive.

On the small scale, it meant that we didn’t sweat the small stuff and, well, anything goes.

House near the road? Sure.

Dusty air? OK, the kids will get tougher.

A less-than-rigorous cleaning schedule: All the better.

Go camping? At the drop of a hat, minimal preparation.

I lived and let live, gung-ho, believing that it was all for the better.

I have changed a little.

In the past few months – for me - I've had two fungal skin infections requiring long courses of scary-sounding “sporanox” and three courses of antibiotics to clear up weepy skin infections. I have gotten used to the taste of Augmentin and it doesn't even make me want to puke anymore (I bite them). All of it is eczema complications.

I no longer dare to go into the sun (sweat), will probably never swim in a pool again (chlorine) and have given up all the rough-and-tumble sweaty activities I used to love.

I do not want to shake newsmaker’s hands or I hide my hands under the table because of the weepy lesions on my fingers. One time I had to write in a notepad, I covered up the lesions with a plaster only to realize that after half-an-hour the plasters were clearly, embarrassingly, soaked through with pus.

And no more spontaneous hugs from the kids. When they accidentally rub away the soft crusts on my legs and arms, exposing raw skin, it's a bitch.

The last derm visit was for a completely different non-eczema related deep-skin eroding scarring infection which had the doctor scratching his head: Hmmm. This typically affects homeless people who live in very unhygienic conditions. How come you have it?

The kids are fine. Lu's eczema is still well under control (maybe because we brought her while she was still very young) but Day does remark: Why do you have so many scars on your body, mummy? I don't want to have eczema! (I hope so too, boy)

No more. I do not want to live on antibiotics to kill bacteria along with my immunity just so that the infection goes away temporarily to return with a vengeance.

Clearly, my skin defenses are down. Compromised. Weakened.

If I have to live with this forever, I had better learn to manage it properly. I can’t be on antibiotics, steroids and anti-histamines forever.

So, the campaign: Save My Skin.

In a nutshell, I think I have to be very, very kind and careful with my skin. I have to become more OCD, like some of my friends, disinfect and clean everything. Yet, I cannot over-clean in case it becomes drying.

At the moment my skin seems to react to heat, humidity (which accounts for fungal and bacteria growth) sweat (my own), dust, metals perhaps. And maybe even stress, I don’t know.

The campaign will be costly. KK, the dear man, insisted on investing in an air-conditioner and an air-purifier so we can keep the air in our bedroom, the nearest to the main road, cleaner.

I have also visited a homeopath, and it was a very curious and lengthy experience with the strangest medicines.

And I am throwing away my goal of wanting to earn $X a month because that is clearly stressing me out, so I'm turning down jobs.

Keeping my weeping fingers crossed.

tab

2011-10-10T17:25:00.002+08:00

The latest toy to take our family by storm: The Galaxy Tab.

Why the Tab? I don't know. KK just came home with it one day.

Here’s what we all do with it:

KK takes it with him to the toilet and uses it to surf soccer news and check his e-mail when he doesn’t bring his laptop home.

I take it with me when I go out to check my email, or when I go to the gym, to entertain myself with Youtube vids as I walk on the treadmill.

Day plays the occasional game or watches some Youtube videos.

Jo and Lu watch Peppa Pig on it.

For now, I can also use it to take photographs before the new cam arrives (I traded in the Ixus for a Canon G12)

book nook

2011-10-09T09:34:00.007+08:00

The big bookshop is dying.

There used to be a Borders near us, but it’s gone the way of the dodo.

Now there’s only Kinokuniya.

Admittedly, we aided in the demise because we never buy books and I don’t like buying books for the kids. We only borrow.

But a bookshop is still a very important – and nice – place to be in to fall in love with books.

Good thing is, we have two bookshops within walking distance of home.

One was The Reading Place, which is thankfully still around.

The other is a new one which is less than a year old, and is clearly one of those dream businesses set up for love rather than money.

The Little Bookshop, up a flight of steps on the second floor of a shop house, hosts a smallish collection of books, curated by owner Irene, with a focus on cooking, travel, local fiction and Top Tens.

We always see Irene there, even though she has a full-time job.

There is a whole lot of heart and love put into everything in that space, from the thematic displays (Halloween now) to home-printed flyers on story-telling programmes and workshops, to the food which Irene cooks herself in a small oven and frying pan (cookies, brownies, quiche, brunch breakfasts on weekends)

Recently, they've started offering more food, presumably because food sells better than books.

The kids love The Little Bookshop to bits.

* The kiddy reading room

They run upstairs, remove their shoes, play in the space, flip through the books, eat ice cream. Day's fav: Sea salt and caramel. Lu's fav: Cookies and cream. Jo vacillates between those two.

We love it just as a warm and calming space, very near home, to hang out.

It helps that we’re always the only ones there and it literally is like hanging out in someone’s home.

We’ve always wondered if it would close down.

As much as we like the quiet, we hope more people come by and spend money so that it can stay open.

snap

2011-10-08T23:40:00.000+08:00

I took them, they took me.

opinionated

2011-10-07T23:42:00.002+08:00

It used to be that every outing is a sure success. Where, no matter where you go, the kids would enjoy it because they just want to see the world. A sandy beach, a park, even a boring office. It all works. There’s always something new to experience.

As Day tipped into primary school, it’s no longer the case.

This is his idea of a good day out: Can we go stay in a hotel, order room service and go for a spa? Can we go shopping please? (he doesn’t even sound like a boy)

Today we bring the kids to NTU. Well it was errand-driven – KK wanted to borrow books from the library – but we figured the university’s an interesting place, even for kids.

It’s big, full of open spaces and there’s stuff to see.

The entire way there, in the car, Day broods.

In the library, he broods. “There aren’t any books here I can read, it’s so BORING.”

He hardly looks around.

The girls, perhaps because they are younger, are still receptive. I think they perk up when we tell them that papa and mama met here and if not for the university, they’d not be here at all.

But the moment when everyone brightens up is when we discover Sakae Sushi, along with MacDonalds, Canadian Pizza and Old Chang Kee somewhere near where Canteen A used to be.

* The view from Sakae Sushi. Of the engineering faculty.

I mean, food in an air-conditioned restaurant. We have become so typical. Day sucks up his sushi with gusto.

We are the only customers at first. Then lecturers and students stream in for lunch. For a restaurant in NTU, it seems to be doing pretty good business.

* Spot the girls

But I don’t think I want to come back with the kids.

lu's art

2011-10-04T23:59:00.004+08:00

The art which a child first produces when they learn how to make marks on a piece of paper are, I think, the most unique.

Day and Jo draw very neat correct pictures these days, but what I really miss are the kinds of funny, abstract things which Jo used to draw.

Lu is there now.

Here's her idea of a Lollipop tree with a ladder going up the whole trunk, and apples exploding out of the foliage. I've never had a kid who thought apples should grow out of the tree.

Her drawing style: Pencil in right hand, eraser in the left, she is fussy to the max and is erasing as much as she is drawing.

(Jo contributes the four people beneath the tree: Me, Day, Jo and Lu. Of course.)

stewardess

2011-10-03T10:28:00.001+08:00

so singapore

2011-10-02T13:57:00.005+08:00

Day and I sit down for a lunch of fishball noodles at the hawker centre near his school.

Fishball stall auntie sits down to eat her lunch. She looks at Day’s uniform. She asks in Mandarin which school he is from.

I tell her. She says, Oh! Last time the principal there was very good. Who is it now?

We swing into a dialogue about the school, the pressures of her school system and how she is so pleased that Day is lapping up the noodles which she cooked.

Along comes another auntie. “Is this seat taken?” she asks in impeccable English.

Turns out she is a relief teacher from Day’s school. She narrows her eyes at Day: Are you Donovan? Day shrinks and looks into his beehoon for courage: No, I’m David.

She says, Oh, I think I have taught you.

We three aunties swing into English-Mandarin trilogue about what fishball auntie is eating. Rice with a bowl of soup which is filled to the brim with about 20 fish slices. I quip to relief teacher, who expresses envy: It's her stall, what. She can put in whatever she wants.

Along comes another auntie, with a handsome young man.

We the quartet swing into an involved discussion on whether the young man (her nephew) resembles her (yes in every way except for his hawkish nose), Day’s marvelous appetite for fishball noodles and the young man’s marital status.

Fishball auntie started it. “You married or not? Don’t wait so long ah.”

Then somebody from fishball auntie’s stall plonks down a plate of amazing whole brinjals soaked in oil and shallots, for her.

All conversation stops. Then starts around the brinjals. Whether we can buy the dish (no, it's only for internal consumption), how it’s cooked (boiled), how relief teacher ate it as a young girl, how the careless stall holders didn’t even bother to cut off the stems (probably because it is for internal consumption).

We strangers have become so convivial and pal-ly I almost open my mouth to ask if I can try some of that fabulous brinjal.

Day slurps up his beehoon, hastily stands up before he finishes chewing and announces "I'm finished!"

He can't wait to get away. (and I think, handsome young man too)

the great sick

2011-09-29T09:43:00.001+08:00

The result of the test: No lethal bacteria (salmonella etc) in her gut. That is, she is fine.

And she is. Apart from princess tantrums, she is eating normally and poo-ing quite normally.

The turning point came Monday night when, while we were going home in the car and Day and Jo were making a racket, she croaked: Can you all keep quiet?

Just this morning, she made fun of me.

I shit in my pants and, as she stood outside the toilet watching me with my head in my hands, lots of splashing sounds from the toilet bowl, she sang: Mama you need a Pamper.

Um-hmm. I got it from her.

Same pattern. A sudden high fever (39 degrees for me), followed by diarrhea (No vomiting. Yet) about a day later.

Our family has never had stomach issues. I’ve never had stomach issues.

Having to get up four times in the night to poo and pop fever pills is a first for me.

Perhaps I did not manage it well enough, which is why I got it from Lu.

The priority now is to make sure NO ONE else gets it. I have a good mind to stay with my mum until it tides over but that’s not possible.

I am also told there is this tiny thing called dehydration which I have to avoid.

Right now I am going to sleep.

* The sick ones

Lu

2011-09-26T16:49:00.001+08:00

She has not smiled in four days.

I know its only four days.

But it almost seems too much to bear.

food diary 6

2011-09-25T09:25:00.004+08:00

And what do you know? Lu shits out blood, clot included, along with her stool on Friday night. (yes, I brought her to an expensive paed and yes, her stool is being sent for tests)

Back to food. Traditionally, Saturdays are a big mess meal-wise. We wake up late, have brunch, and the next meal may be dinner. Or a late lunch and then a tiny dinner.

I never cook, because KK does not want to wash the dishes on the weekend. So it’s always eating out.

This Saturday, it’s different. As with any woman with a very sick kid with a truckload of soiled bed sheets and blankets to wash, and who treasures her sanity, what do I do? I run back to mum with Lu in tow.

KK brings Day and Jo for a nice cycling day out at the beach.

BREAKFAST

Day: Honey with oats.
Jo: Nothing.
Lu: Mum’s pork, scallop and dried oyster porridge. (well recipe from Mum, cooked by Gina). Lu eats. She also requests for bottled Chrysanthemum tea. No vomiting today.

Day and Jo share fried chicken and fries with KK at the beach. And ice-cream. That passes for breakfast and lunch.

I think the kids really enjoy eating out with KK because he doesn't think about cost or whether it's healthy. I'm forever calculating...

LUNCH

Lu: Beehoon soup with chicken and cabbage by Gina. Lu had asked for it. But she only takes two spoons.

DINNER

Jo: Beef noodle soup.
Day: Chicken rice.
Lu: She requests for, and gets, a packet of crackers which she eats a fair bit of and a can of coconut drink. She also shares a bit of my beef noodle and successfully keeps it down. She shows a bit of her true form when she screams at Jo for snatching her crackers. And she drinks 100 plus. KK says: She needs to replenish salts.

food diary 5

2011-09-24T23:11:00.005+08:00

Something awful happens on Thursday night.

Lu wakes up in the middle of the night with a 40.3 degree fever.

BREAKFAST

Day: Cornflakes with milk.
Jo: Wholemeal bread with jam.
Lu: Tiny spoonfuls of oats with honey.

LUNCH

Jo: Something in school, I cannot recall now.
Day: Chicken porridge cooked in the remainder chicken soup from two nights ago and scallops. He loves this. It looks awful because I didn't put in enough water.

Lu: A spoon of chicken porridge. She throws up the entire lot. She also starts leaking from her bottom end. She is still at 40 degrees.

DINNER

In Lu’s horrible, awful state, where she lies around hot and zombie-like without a sound, a cry, no liquid and no food for the entire day, putting up with the ignominy of having to wear diapers once more, we ask what she wants. We will feed her anything she wants.

She says: French fries. And green tea.

In her lowest moment, she thinks of MacDonalds.

We get it for her. But I manage to convince her to change it to a cup of corn.

Lu: A spoon of corn and one sip of green tea before throwing it all up.
Jo: Chicken McNuggets happy meal (four nuggets and French Fries) with iced milo.
Day: He has dinner at my folks. I’m not sure what he ate.

food diary 4

2011-09-23T23:51:00.002+08:00

BREAKFAST

Day: Cornflakes with milk.

Girls: Honey oats for Lulu (above, her favourite), fish biscuits and jam bread. She was inexplicably hungry. Beehoon soup from last night not enough, maybe.
Cornflakes (Honey Stars and Banana Nut Crunch) and milk for Jo.

LUNCH

Girls: Porridge with egg and apple in school.
Day: Chicken rice in school.

TEA

Fried beehoon with egg, mushroom, carrots and French beans, by Gina.

I have an afternoon appointment and whenever this happens, they go back to my folks, where food is fresh, ready and plentiful. It’s Gina’s Restaurant.

DINNER

At my folks, because my appointment ends at 5-ish and there isn’t time to fetch the kids, go back and prepare dinner.

It’s white and brown rice with French Bean omelette, dou miao, pork with peas and onion slices, and the stewed pork with carrots and potatoes from the night before.

The kids also get freshly-squeezed apple juice. And honey dew.

food diary 3

2011-09-22T13:35:00.003+08:00

BREAKFAST

Day: Coco Pops with cold milk.
Girls: Cheese on toast.

LUNCH

Day: Spaghetti with tomato sauce in school at recess. Two sausages and jelly at lunch (he has to stay back).
Girls: Rice, chicken, soup, fishballs from school.

TEA

Colourful biscuits. They love these old-time biscuits, the kind you buy from big tins with one clear panel at old provision shops. Fancy gems, Day calls the one on the left.

DINNER

Chicken beehoon soup with fishball, vegetables, mushroom and beancurd.

Again, it looks terrible but this one is a sure-win, sure-finish favourite. Busy days, I only chuck in meat and veg. If I have time to do some marketing (like this week), I chuck in more.

It’s a way of getting them to eat some good stuff. They seldom question what’s in their favourite beehoon soup.

I also supply a small dish of Maggi sauce which Jo liberally spoons up. One spoonful of noodle, one sip of sauce. Same for KK.

They both think the soup is bland, which is true. Even though it's slow-cooked from a whole chicken for about six hours, it's bland. But it’s deliberate. As far as possible, I avoid salt and sauces. I don’t even like oyster sauce and bottled chicken stock which I seldom use. Tastiness is compromised for health.

Everytime I cook I think: Should I dunk in the seasonings to make it tasty so they will eat more? Or keep it bland and super-simple and (I may be wrong here) healthier, the drawback being that they might push away their food?

food diary 2

2011-09-21T12:43:00.006+08:00

BREAKFAST

Day: Koko Crunch cornflakes with cold Meiji milk.

Girls: Pandan bread bun and one char siew bao each. Lu also drinks a cup of Gain IQ warm milk. She made me buy it from the supermarket after seeing it on the shelf. Only she drinks it. No one else can stand the smell and taste of the synthetic stuff. (Maybe she can sense she is lacking something... haha)

LUNCH

Girls: In school, they get rice with soup and chicken, watermelon and Yakult. I’m always thankful when the school settles their meals. When it comes to food I’m quite happy to outsource.
Day: He eats a pandan bun at recess. And a full portion of Nasi Lemak with fried chicken wing after school at the coffeeshop nearby.

TEA

This is the time they are at their hungriest. The litany of food requests are non-stop and I do a lot of waitressing.

Chin-chow in honey with ice for everyone, two slices of Coon’s cheese for Lu, crackers and biscuits, whatever leftovers are to be found in the fridge.

I might nap at this time (but not kids) so they unilaterally raid the cupboards and fridge. Which is why I try not to buy nonsense because THEY WILL FIND IT.

DINNER

It’s always a feast at mum’s. Gina is very free and dinner is her crowning achievement for the day.

A super-achiever I just interviewed said: Let someone specialize in something and do it every day and he or she will get good at it. Those who run here run there (sounds familiar) will never get anywhere.

Gina is great.

She does pork stewed with potatoes and carrots, steamed fish, kailan in oyster sauce...

Peas with mince pork (Lu’s favourite).

And (not pictured) grilled eggplant AND soup.

We only get our fish at my folks. I still can't do fish. (at least, every fish I do, they don't eat. Including cod and salmon)

KK loves fried fish, but the thought of frying a fish still scares me. And ugh. Bones. Hate fish bones.

Do the kids eat everything?
Almost. They don’t go for the eggplant or the soup.

We finish off with honeydew and Marks and Spencers chocolate chip cookies (my mum’s guilty pleasure).

The fridge at my folks is always well-stocked. Unlike mine.

When I eat at my folks, I don’t go looking for food at 10pm.

food day 1

2011-09-20T22:18:00.007+08:00

Since I have food on my mind, I’m going to start a 7-day food diary.

But unlike Sydney days when sentimentality was the driver, kids eating well, I think, is the motivator for this one.

I’ll document down to minute detail what it is that the kids put into their mouths on a daily basis, and some of the things I think about. It'll be boring but this is for me.

And it will be typical. No special effort will be made just because I’m blogging about it.

This week, however, is what I would consider a good, fairly typical week. Yes I have a lot of work due, but I do not have many external meetings, unlike last week when I was running between one or two a day.

Those will also be an opportunity for those with better house management skills / are better cooks / have someone at home who cooks to count their blessings! (Trust me, I will look bad).

So. Monday.

BREAKFAST

Cornflakes with cold Meiji milk for all. Cornflakes: Banana Nut Crunch.

LUNCH

Jo and Lu: Beehoon with carrots and eggs, milk and watermelon in school. I think there’s some meat involved but the girls couldn’t say what.

Day: He skips recess, which happens often. After I pick him up, we share garlic prawn pasta and beef sheperd’s pie at a café so he eats about half of both.

TEA

Packets of Mamee each and a soft drink (it’s a library ritual)

DINNER

100 percent organic macaroni (I doubt if organic makes any difference but I was conscientious that day in the supermarket), tossed in stewed tomato with minced chicken, onions, mushrooms, garlic, rosemary and thyme. It doesn’t look good but I like it.

The sauce is sour-salty because it's stewed from Malaysian tomatoes, the kind you find in the wet market (I hate tinned tomato sauces with a passion. But if I bought a tin perhaps the kids would prefer their dinner..)

Also, I've never figured how to properly fry mince meat such that it crumbles nicely. I end up chopping away with my ladle, manually breaking up the meat but it always ends up in biggish chunks.

Rosemary and thyme which actually look like weeds (ie. not from a shaker) are newcomers to my kitchen. I only have them because Day wanted to try out a potato wedges recipe the other day which involved the herbs and I just tossed them in the sauce because I don’t know how else to use them up.

Day picks out all the rosemary and arranges them next to his bowl, but laps up the pasta.
Jo removes the tomato chunks and finishes her portion.
Lu only wants plain macaroni because she hates tomato. I manage to persuade her to finish it by putting only chicken mince in her bowl.

* Jo... and then Lu's bowl

They finish dinner off with apple slices.

fruit meals

2011-09-19T13:14:00.007+08:00

Update from their horrified dietitian uncle: Low protein. No B-complex vitamins. No good fats for the brain. No oil for cooking means your kids lose out on all the fat soluble Vitamins. Vitamin A, D, E and K. (mainly A and E) How to put on weight? Poor boy.

The kids have fruits for meals!

Why? Because I’m busy again!

Work craziness once again tips my life over and pours it all out in a sludgy mess of unwashed clothes, dusty tables and tornado packing (throw here, throw there)

(Why am I still blogging? Because it’s a means to oil my writing wheels to gear up for the next article on the production line.)

Many times these few weeks, they come to me at 4pm whining that they are hungry and then I recall: Oh my God they haven’t had lunch.

I scramble to take out the bread, the biscuits, the cornflakes, the frozen peas and corn and my favourite – the Fruits.

* This is dinner, along with cornflakes

Fruits don’t need cooking. It's instantaneous. They eat up their fruits. And there is minimal clean-up with no soap involved (because there’s no oil) so it’s kinder on my eczema-ed hands. And it’s kind of healthy (though expensive).

I am starting to think that my son is super-skinny because I’m not feeding him right.

Then suddenly I realize with even more horror: They haven’t had lunch… wait. I haven’t had breakfast!

On a related point, I was thinking about food and how I’m going about it all wrong.

I want them to eat healthy, but by depriving them of what I deem as unhealthy food, and not having the energy or the commitment to provide those healthy alternatives, they’re STARVING. (Like I would rather feed them fruits and nothing else than bring them to Macs nearby)

lantern time

2011-09-18T13:25:00.003+08:00

This is the year I realize the kids are not really into lanterns.

That is, they do it for us, not for themselves.

The preceding build-up of excitement – of looking for rabbits in the moon, biting into juicy pomelo and sweet lotus paste, walking on a dark street with nothing but warm bobbing lantern light – is sadly all mine. (KK is as non-plussed as the kids)

Kiddos are not very keen, on all three occasions they get to imbibe in the Mooncake Festival.

What did I expect? That they would ooh and ah at something as provincial as the moon? They’ve grown up.

Most fun was probably the girls’ school lantern party at the East Coast Park, where a global hodge-podge of parents each brought a dish to the potluck and the barbeque pits were laden with a buffet of exotica, from Shanghai dumplings to sushi to Al Forno pizza.

* Lanterns all strung up for picking by kids

Factors for success: Friends, a great breeze which alleviated the stifling heat and humidity, and the greatest playground of all, the beach. Which was, to be frank, quite awful.

Next was our own little house party at my folks, where tradition was observed.

Then was Day’s school party, where a few hundred parents and kids descended on the school and we were typically overwhelmed, beating a hasty retreat before the mass walk.

I also make a strange observation: Every year, it’s Jo’s lantern which stays lit the longest. This year they all carried the same lanterns. I think she’s got the steadiest gait and hands.

And perhaps an insane sense of competition which makes her will her limbs into ensuring that her lantern stays lit longer than anyone else’s.

weird blog moment

2011-09-16T12:35:00.002+08:00

I was just saying the other day that I think blogs are falling out of favour. It’s Facebook (and maybe newer platforms which I am not yet aware of) which capture the eyeballs.

Recently, I went to conduct an interview.

I said hi to the young lady and was taking out my notepad when she said: Hey I read your blog. I read all about David, Jody and Lulu. Your voice is a lot deeper than I expected!

I froze.

When I do an interview, there is a certain comfortable relationship: Me, a friendly harmless anonymous writer, trying to dig out all sorts of private details from the person who is under the spotlight.

It’s a very strange feeling when your interviewee knows a whole lot more about you than you know of her! Very, very strange!

I asked her: Er, how did you come to this blog?

She said: I can’t remember. Through friends? I don’t really know.

Did she feel like she was talking to someone she knew when I asked her the questions? I don’t know.

But I sure got great answers!

bye, ixus

2011-09-13T22:29:00.002+08:00

Last photo my trusty little Canon Ixus took before the viewing screen completely died. All I can see are illuminated cracks when I turn it on.

I can try taking pictures without actually seeing anything (camera has no viewfinder), like this agak-agak shot of potato wedges:

But it's awfully out of focus.

It's been 3 1/2 good years. For a gadget which was thrown around a lot, it lasted pretty long.

Now it's time to get a new camera.

But which one?

princess is back

2011-09-13T12:07:00.003+08:00

She’s switched again.

One day as I am frowning furiously away at Jo, I suddenly realize that her sweet days number less and less.

While it lasted, I appreciated and savoured every peaceful day.

The wonderful age of four has come and gone. At 5 ½, she is entering awkward phase two (as with Day).

Let’s see now. Her drama always makes life more interesting.

* At some point every day, she shrieks like an outraged monkey. No words, just shrieking.

* At some point every day, she pronounces: I hate so-and-so. Could be me, could be KK, could be Lu, could be Day.

* Anecdote 1: Her wad of “ching gum” (chewing gum) drops out of her mouth. She turns on me, stamps her little foot, furious: You see! You made me talk and open my mouth and my chewing gum dropped out!

* Anecdote 2: She refuses to hold a lantern because it’s the wrong colour. KK holds it for her. After a while she shrieks. KK returns lantern to her. She grabs it with a savage frown. She whines: My candle is going to go out because papa held it for so long. KK says he could go back to get a new candle. She whines: But then I’ll have to wait so long for you to come back.

It all sounds very provincial. But there and then, we – including furious Day who represents me in an uncensored form ie he cannot grit his teeth and tolerate - all want to put our hands around her neck.

This round, however, unlike her twos, there is a difference. There is a lot of eye-rolling and petulant teenage-y pronouncements like: I don’t care or FINE.

There is also her incessant, mind-numbing, pointed, repeated questioning which I numbly proclaim to be good (when relevant) but which drills holes into my brain.

One of her favourite questions: What did you say just now? (I forgot) But, what did you SAY just now? (I forgot, Jo). TSK, BUT WHAT DID YOU SAY??!

* Her mock angry face

sept 11

2011-09-11T23:22:00.003+08:00

Just because there is an outpouring of sentiment, here’s what I was doing on Sept 11, 10 years ago.

I was in Mongolia (outer), living in a cold forest where my job was to ride on a white pony called Borathleg every day, get to out-of-the-way places where I could dismount, lay a piece of string on the forest floor, and count animal droppings.

It was part of an environmental initiative with volunteer mission group Operation Raleigh, to track the animal species in the forest.

In a place where there was no communication and where my only link with the outside world was monthly snail mail dispatches, the rest of the world was completely filtered out.

Upon my return to Singapore a week later, KK, the first time I looked upon his face in three months, looked at me very seriously and said: Something terrible’s happened.

And that was how I learnt about September 11, a good five days after the event.

I must have been one of the last people in the world to know.

jo's boys

2011-09-10T23:06:00.005+08:00

At five, Jo likes her boys.

Already fully aware of the difference between boys and girls, Jo gravitates to boys.

Not just any sort of boy. She likes boys with charisma who can make her laugh. And once she likes, she is intense and consistent in her adoration.

At school, her best friend has always been, and remains, Sam.

* Jo with Sam (in blue) and Jia-en, she calls them her boy friends. As in, friends who are boys.

They’re partners. They share the same bag and shoe cubbyhole, and they hold hands when they’re told to line up.

Sam is the sort of adorable tyke who’d flip up his eyelids and shriek “Ali Baba Chicken Man!” to raucous laughter.

Outside of school, the boy most on her mind is eight-year-old Josh.

Jo and Josh. Gosh.

A neighbor and playground playmate, my daughter would happily sit on the back rack of Josh’s bicycle, arms around his waist, and disappear off with him into the sunset with nary a backward glance.

Which is what actually happens, when Josh ferries Jo back home from the playground. She pleads, “Mummy can I please sit on Josh’s bike, please, please?”

This remarkable boy usually in singlet and shorts sings Justin Bieber, does a mean Bruce Lee impression, is street-smart to a fault and is completely left alone by his parents.

He cycles everywhere on his own, decides where he wants to go, doesn’t care much about mealtimes and when I stop him at my door to ask – But do your parents know you are coming to my house? – he waves me off with “never mind”.

He, brash and bold at eight, is accountable only to himself and has absolutely no fear of adults. He’d question me: Eh, how come you all not at home on Saturdays?

But he’s also the sort who’d know how to find his way back home, if he were lost, with no money and no phone without a tear.

KK is most disapproving.

Me, I like Josh. He has many qualities which I think local kids need (he’s not local).

But when Jo goes on and on – “Can we go to the playground to find Josh? Why is Josh not here? How come I don’t see Josh? Can I sit on Josh’s bike when he comes later? – I wish he’s far, far away!

hols

2011-09-09T12:47:00.003+08:00

When it rains, it pours.

The one-week September holidays are when all the work I have been waiting and pitching for, in a very free period in late August, pours down in a deluge.

So I leave Day mostly to his own devices.

His favourite thing to do is to go out of the house on his own, wallet in hand, to buy things.

But the one thing he really wanted was to go to the Science Centre. That would be his holiday highlight.

The Science Centre is something else.

It fits right up there with the library and museum as nice air-conditioned places for us to spend time and not money.

The negative is that there is only one crazy-crowded MacDonalds there which, everytime I go, requires me to stand 30 minutes in the queue.

Day was gunning for the exhibit on viruses. He’s still mad-crazy about the human body.

We went with PK and her brood. When I announce to the kids in the car that we’re meeting auntie PK, Kaining and Kaiqin, the girls hooray while Day slumps: What? All the girls again?

He hates being the only male in a group of seven.

That outing, however, breaks a family record for Longest Time Spent At One Place. I think we were there about seven hours and I don’t think we covered half the centre.

For the hols, teenagers set up lots of activity stations. Here, kids are making paper butterflies with weighted wings (washers stuck on with scotch tape) which can perch beautifully on a corner.

Most fun? The learning-about-water area, essentially a water playground.

* Amazonian Kaining, who is younger than Jo but taller than Day

* PK and Kaiqin, who takes a while to warm up to the water

tired at the wheel

2011-09-08T00:07:00.003+08:00

I never dreamt the day would come when I would say: I nearly fell asleep at the wheel.

But it’s here!

Driving, once so stressful, has become soothing, automatic, comfortable.

I - crazy multi-tasking woman with the strange female ability to keep one eye on the road and the other eye on a whole load of crap - can theoretically do a lot of things while driving.

But I made myself swear that, regardless of how many things I need to do, I would not. While driving, would not make that call on the mobile (unless I have a hands-free), would not SMS, would not check my bag contents, would not read (unless it’s a street directory in which case I check only at red traffic lights).

And oh, heavens, would not sleep.

But it has – heavens!! – become a familiar sensation.

I know myself. It typically happens around 1-ish or 2 afternoon when there’s a drop in my energy level (unless I have that cup of teh tarik in the morning), or after a particularly long and tiring day.

Worse, driving on the expressway is a very effective lullaby.

I grip the steering wheel with a death grip. I force open my eyes and refuse to blink. I play the radio, 98.7, at a crazy-loud volume. I talk to myself. I sing. I shout. I think of a mangled bloody wreck. I think of KK and the kids. I think, what if I crash into and kill someone else’s mummy. Shudder.

It works.

I am ready, always, to get off the roads and stop somewhere to kill the engine and snooze. I haven’t had to do that yet. And I wonder if it would work because I suspect, horrors, that it’s the motion of the car which tips tiredness into deadly fatigue.

Tuesday was one such day.

5pm, in the car, driving on the AYE, three kids behind, we (no KK or he would have driven) had had a full day at the Science Centre since 10am in the morning.

Lu fell asleep the instant her head hit the car seat.

I wanted to do the same. But I had to drive across the length of Singapore. God.

I think Day and Jo thought I was mad, what with the music and un-ending gibberish coming out of my mouth.

snapshot

2011-09-07T16:18:00.003+08:00

I recently covered a talk by one of those inspirational speaker types.

It got me thinking about where I want to go.

Not about motherhood, which remains first priority.

About my job.

I became a freelancer because of the kids. And I think I have pretty much committed myself to the lifestyle of a stay-home mum who writes on the side.

But where do I go from here?

I am in the perfect place to make my work meaningful. Without bosses to answer to, I can pretty much do anything I want.

As it turns out, over the years, I have realized there has only been one unfortunate motivating factor: Money.

I want to earn money. Not for myself, for the kids.

And I know what I am.

I’m good enough for editorial jobs from the Government and local companies.

I’m not good enough for big corporate MNC sell-your-soul type jobs which is where all the money is and which pay, oh, double or much, much more for the same amount of work.

I am realizing that puffery and advertising copy-writing may not be something I can pretend to do. I am just not inspired and without inspiration, words do not flow.

Now, instead of hitting my head against a stone wall, as the speaker would say, I should change my strategy to reach my goal of making money.

Completely out of the box, perhaps I should be a property agent. Or a trader. Or dabble in stocks and shares.

But then… maybe I should re-think the entire goal. Then the response would be: That's a cop-out!

por por's 65

2011-09-05T22:17:00.004+08:00

“It’s your MOTHER’S birthday,” said Lu the other day.

“Where’s your present? Where are the balloons?”

I stifle a slightly ridiculous feeling of guilt. “I-I-I’m treating por-por to dinner, see? That’s my present, see. The DINNER.”

Mum pays for her own cake from Fruit Paradise, a cake shop in Vivocity which we have been eyeing for over a year but never ate from until now. Mum had to pay because Teng was too slow to take out his wallet - so he says.

And so, my mother, who goes the gym every day after or before work, plays tennis and does tai-chi, hits her mid-60s.

I did suggest a party. But mum quailed at the prospect of a gathering held in her honour.

(Girls, I will be happy if you just spend some time with me when I’m 65. No need present)

gym-my stuff

2011-09-04T16:22:00.005+08:00

Bunk bed's good for many purposes. Lu can't do it, yet.

The logical next-step: A head-stand against the wall.

If I looked stressed here, I am. My heart rate went up. It's kinda good exercise. KK admonishes: You're twisting her arms. (pix by Lu)

Flying Jo.

Small fitness corners near HDB flats for senior citizens. Kids love it.

teacher's day

2011-09-03T23:38:00.004+08:00

Teacher's Day, I learn that one advantage of sending Day to this particular primary school is that it never lacks for funds.

What this means is that on Teacher's Day, its teachers are treated to a wedding-quality dinner at The Four Seasons Hotel complete with lucky draw (top prize a $500 shopping voucher) and a professional MC who manages to turn what could potentially be a very stiff event into a whole load of fun. You know, Bingo, floor games, Mr and Mrs contest.

Unbelievably, parent volunteers - like me - are invited too.

Of course I go. I would never turn down food.

The parent next to me mumbles in all confidence: With all that money, they could do so much more with the school, hire better teachers, be like that school next door which is top-class.

I bite my lip.

On Teacher's Day or on any other day, I happen to like Day's teachers a lot.

The kids and I hurriedly prepare small gift baggies the day before. Hand-written cards and, er-hmmm, lozenges.

Jo is long-winded to the max, writing long, long messages on her cards about how this teacher scares her but actually she loves her, so on and so forth.

Day writes equally long messages but he loses steam after card #3.

They, we, have been incredibly fortunate, to date. To be taught by teachers who seem to truly love what they do.

family meals

2011-08-30T23:27:00.002+08:00

There are certain SOPs to family meals, not the every day type, but the special-event, public-holiday type.

Who comes, who does what, who eats what.

I find these SOPs become more important as I age, because one day these SOPs will cease.

With my folks, it’s the BBQ and the popiah parties.

BBQs outside (of late we’ve been having BBQs for matchmaking purposes), popiah parties on the dining table.

Mum does popiah today, for lunch. It’s the sort of event which I will schedule my life around because I love popiah. And she doesn’t do it that often anymore.

I do a slap-on and roll-up demo for the kids.

Day and Jo gamely roll their own popiah. Day eats two with lots of chilli and says he loves it.

Jo eats one with no chilli and later says she does not like it.

Lu does not even go near. She rejects the whole idea of making her own food.

A new family meal which has started since Gugu got married, is meaty BBQs at Ho Choon's place.

Meaty as in, everytime we go, there is an excess of meat which we never finish. Thick slabs of beef and pork, lumpy sausages (as opposed to the smooth, plump ones), heaps of chicken wings.

Then Gugu vainly tries to get anyone who can play the piano to play the piano, and everyone says no.

earnest magic

2011-08-29T00:04:00.001+08:00

Day’s latest thing is magic.

The girls try their darndest to copy him.

Jo’s the best. She can lie with a straight face.

Here, Lu tries to make a coin disappear.

She really thinks that wrapping a coin in tissue paper and pressing it with a comb will make it vanish.

Still, I applaud her for her earnesty!

mozzie net houes

2011-08-28T09:50:00.004+08:00

Kids made a mozzie net house with three chairs and a clothes stand, and slept in their castle.

In the night the clothes stand fell on them, but no one minded.

They still get a thrill out of sleeping in something they made, and I get a thrill knowing they get a thrill.

I almost threw away the net. I'm glad I didn't!

* It's all quite new to Lu

voting for the president

2011-08-27T22:11:00.006+08:00

Today we voted for who we think would make the best President for Singapore.

It's the first time we get to vote for a President.

My vote was the result of daily reading and trying to dig up as much information as I could on the candidates. I knew a lot, and I still wasn't sure. But I went ahead.

KK's vote, this morning, before we went to cast our vote, he asked me a few questions about the four candidates. I told him as much as I objectively could and he made his choice based on what I said. He knew little, he had not even heard the candidates speak. But he was dead sure.

Based on what I said, his choice was diametrically opposed from mine!

Just saying!

attack 2

2011-08-25T20:49:00.003+08:00

Six months later, it’s Tata’s turn.

There’s a certain nauseating harmony in the old couple succumbing to heart attack in quick succession, one after the other.

Is it their household diet which caused the insidious build up on the walls of their coronary arteries and veins?

And what does two parents having coronary issues mean for KK and his siblings?

Uncomfortable in the chest, fatigued and food-averse, Tata is rushed to the hospital in an ambulance, just like Nene.

Procedure over and still in intensive care, Tata grumbles in Mandarin behind the oxygen mask: Just like Mother (mother meaning his wife). Don’t know why also.

The kids say: Heart attack again?

Second time round, they seem to have gotten used to heart attacks and, still blissfully unaware of what a heart attack can lead to, are seemingly unaffected.

What gets to them is not being allowed in to see Tata once there. Jo sobs.

The hospital policy is, no under-12s allowed. Which makes good sense, really. Kids shouldn’t go to germ and bug-ridden hospitals.

The Khoo Teck Puat hospital, however, is quite a kid haven outside of the sick areas.

We end up loitering around the hospital for a long time after our visit. KK remarks: It’s not like a hospital at all. They’re actually having fun.

I suppose it’s a sweet end to a bitter visit.

Sweet also because we know Tata will be fine and home soon.

* A very credible and large-ish fish pond with impressive fish species to knock the socks off the kids

* Fish food for $1 per capsule ball

* Just for fun

* Clean and slick food court which prints out the caloric content of your food on the receipts.

* A sculpture just outside the hospital. Lu is sore because she cannot climb up on her own. She rejects my help.

* Searching for flowers

* These flowers! I think they're morning glories.

* A huge drain which made for considerable entertainment when an old fellow effortless tossed slices of bread, frisbee-like, with unerring accuracy to feed the swarm of bright orange fish and turtles.

no squint

2011-08-23T23:33:00.004+08:00

This is how to test if a child has a squint: Get them to look at a torch (switched on) about a foot away from their nose.

If the little point of light is centred on both pupils, kid's eyes are fine.

Well that's what the polyclinic nurse did when I finally brought Jo in to check her eyes.

Both doctor and nurse looked as if I were mad when, in reply to their question of "What are you here for?" I said I wanted to check if my daughter has a lazy eye or a squint.

I really wanted a referral if she has an issue, so I can seek subsidized treatment elsewhere, but I think they thought I was a hyper-worried idiot of a mum.

So does Jo have a squint? (gotta look at the pinpoints of light in her eyes)

She did the torch test, the alphabet chart test and another one involving clear plastic blocks.

Diagnosis: Absolutely nothing wrong with her eyes.

I wanted to squeak up that one eye tends to wander around when she's lost in thought. But it seemed over-necessary.

tying hair

2011-08-22T23:36:00.005+08:00

It was to my great surprise to discover that KK didn't really know how to tie up long hair.

It seems common-sensical.

Jo's picked up the skill and these days she revels in tying up Lu's hair. This, is her consummate Big Sister role and she loves it.

Lu is, to her credit, generally a very patient and willing model. She comes whenever she is beckoned.

Especially since Jo, in line with her forceful nature, is none too gentle. You know how some people just have a gentle, "nua" touch. Jo is not one of them. I know because she's done my hair too.

Lu has the funniest expressions when Jo is tying her hair.

my favourite moment...

2011-08-18T23:40:00.003+08:00

…is when the three of them are quietly doing their thing while I serenade them on the piano.

It’s a bit of a fantasy come true.

hello, erin

2011-08-16T23:43:00.006+08:00

Seven months on, Erin’s developed an incredible fringe and an incredible set of lungs.

We visit the little girl.

The fair round ball is very smiley, very tempting, very responsive, and I can’t get my hands off her.

But no. No number 4.

* Keeping still, Erin is wondering why gor-gor Ethan and the two crazy girls are cackling away

The girls are initially charmed at the sight of something new, then the novelty of Erin wears off.

* I am so not used to seeing Lu as the jae jae

Day has experienced two baby girls underfoot so he doesn’t quite bother when he first sets eyes on Erin.

But he is the only one who actually helps to keep an eye on her and dutifully reports when she is in imminent danger.

I guess it's something he does every day.