Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

I've wanted to post on this for the longest time. But got sidetracked by Granny.

We watched Order of the Phoenix a week before Hallows came out. So there were lots of Stunning spells flying around the house as Owain kept going: Stupefy! Stupefy kor-kor!! And the kids squabbled amiably about who could be who in Harry Potter. "I want to be Ginny!" said Cait. Gillian bossily dished out the roles: Isaac could be Voldemort (!) and Owain would be Harry Potter (thanks to the scar right in the middle of his forehead!) , Gillian would be Luna and mummy be Hermione, Dad can be Ron!!

But no event was more anticipated that the arrival of Hallows on Sat 21 July. To be honest, I did not pre-order, sniffing at the hype that was churned up. But sniff or not, I too was swept away by Potter mania and surreptitiously bought a copy at MPH at 12nn on the same day. KH had refused to drive me to the nearest NTUC at 7am and was frowning at my interest in the book. Why so? Because my loving sister had pre-ordered a copy for Isaac and was going to courier it down from KL as a surprise. And until then, no one, ordered KH, should be fingering any copy of Hallows or it would spoil the surprise.

But I couldn't wait. So I bought a copy, ignored KH's frowns, gleefully waved it over Isaac's head while banning him from touching my book (my previous copies of HP are all tattered, torn and literally read to bits thanks to Isaac's manhandling! Think limp kiam-chye, dog-earred pages, coverless books, drenched by rain, dried by sun etc) and settled down to read from 3pm the same day. The kids had gone to their cousins for the night, so I could read without Isaac badgering me. Except an hour's break for Granny, and for a steamboat dinner, I steamed through the book until I finished it at 1am.

Here's my take on it. If you haven't read it, don't want to be 'spoiled', stop right here.

On the plus side, I like the rollicking adventure, as always. Rowling's simple language, as usual, is easy to access and very friendly and appealing to young readers and to adults. The magical world remains as fascinating as it has been, particularly with the inclusion of new elements such as the Hallows. The action sequences were rippingly good and took place at breakneck speed, leaving one gripping the book and really being quite unable to put it down until the sequence was over. In particular, in the early pages, Harry's evacuation from Privet Drive.

The death of familiar characters like Moody, Hedwig, Dobby etc did not make me tear up. These are ultimately still secondary characters. Had it been someone in Harry's inner circle eg Ron or Hermione, or even Mrs Weasley, that might have been different. And by the time the book ended with the deaths of Tonks, Lupin and Fred, one really feels quite immune. The sense of loss/grief did not quite reach me from the book and I got a sense that perhaps Rowling herself was a bit impassive about these characters.

While the plot was kept moving quite well, the entry of the Hallows into the picture might have muddied the waters a bit - perhaps I was expecting a straightforward search of the horcruxes and maybe an out-and-out race between Voldemort and Harry to reach the horcruxes before the other did. The introduction of the Hallows fleshed out the wizarding world a bit more but made it a bit disjointed.

I have mixed feelings about the emphasis on Dumbledore's past. On one hand, I've always been curious about Dumbledore - what was his life like, how he ticked etc. So I'm glad Rowling gave us a glimpse into it. But again, I got a sense that the emotional holes were not nicely filled in. Yes, we know how he felt, but we didn't quite 'feel' him - and I'm not sure quite how to put my finger on it. And then there's Snape, the anti-hero. It was a bit disappointing that Snape did not feature much in the book at all, even though by the end, it was clear that he played a pivotal role. He remains inscrutable as a character. Again, as with Dumbledore, I felt that Rowling did not flesh Snape out as well as she could. Somehow, there is a lack of emotional connection there.

The contrast between Snape, Dumbledore and Harry was nicely elegant. Dumbledore, whom Harry had worshipped, had feet of clay and was not perfect after all. Snape, whom Harry hated with a passion, was a far stronger and braver character than Harry had ever known. Through all 7 books, Harry had judged based on incomplete information and on appearances. At times he had been pretty virulent in his rants against Snape. Yet now, when it was clear that Snape had made sacrifices galore, and who loved with such lasting passion, I found it disappointing that Harry had not expressed more remorse or grief at having misread him. Apart from naming his son after Snape lah! So if I had to have a favourite character for the whole series, I think it would be a tie between Dumbledore and Snape. I'm not very impressed with Harry and find him a bit whiny, shallow and rather a poor judge of character!

With Dumbledore's past revealed, the message was clear: everyone makes mistakes - even the great Dumbledore, but what was more important was to learn from them. And clearly, Dumbledore did, never again seeking a position of prestige and power as he realised his weaknesses and temptations.

Finally, the climax was an anti-climax! Yes, speculation is right - Harry died. But rose again! I found that incredible, not realistic and a real cop-out. Perhaps Rowling had to cater to her young fans who would have been very upset had Harry really conked. But I think this under-estimates the intelligence and sensitivity of many other readers and closes the door to what could have been an interesting discussion on courage and strength as Harry did what would have been incredibly hard for anyone to do.

And here's the tick too - I thought the Elder wand would not work against its true master. Why then did Voldemort's Avadra Kedavra kill Harry the first time round? I think this is a plot hole that Rowling did not spot. If it isn't and if anyone knows the answer though, pls share.

And what's with the 19-years-later epilogue? That was really juvenile. Yeah, we all know Harry would have lived happily-ever-after with Ginny, Ron with Hermione etc but the details of their offspring were unnecessary and a bit boring. The epilogue threw up more questions than answers. Like: what happened to Hagrid? Or Luna? Or Kreacher - is Harry still having Kreacher as a house elf? Who's the new principal of Hogwarts? The ending felt unsettling and ended the book on a very uneven note. I thought a better way to end it, if she really wanted an epilogue, was to list: HP - what happened. Hagrid - what happened etc. Succinct but infinitely more satisfying that the rambling that 19-years-later was. But perhaps this is intentional? Wanting to contrast a fresh start with Harry's own experience so many years ago - to end where it all started - on platform 9 and 3/4? Nice touch if so, but not good enough.

Leaving an opening for a fresh series using new characters where the last book left off - HP the Next Generation??

Overall, I felt that Rowling was in a hurry to finish. Maybe it was already the last book, so let's get it over with? Looking at the series as a whole, I felt that the first three books were the best. They were charming, the boarding-school scenario reminiscent of Enid Blyton, the wizarding world fresh and unique. But as the Harry hype went into big time, the movie deals were made, the books started getting larger and more unwieldy and as the cast of characters became larger, it was harder to lend each one enough emotional resonance, harder to build and shape each person definitively. Much like the movie - which had so many great British actors (and nooo Radcliffe is not one of them!), but sadly all of whom roughly got about 5 minutes of screen time! While Rowling does spin a serviceable tale, her pen lacks the emotional gravitas to lend each character enough credence. Which is why, when Moody died, it was a case of: so? We are not told enough of him to feel for him. And the same for many other characters in HP.

Which is why this series can never match up to Narnia or LOTR. The series may have sold millions, but I'm not sure if it will last beyond the hype. We'll have to wait until 2010 when the last HP movie comes out to see. More than anything else, I think the HP franchise has been a fascinating lesson in marketing!

Granny Adventures

"Mummy, you have to see it in your head... Can you see it happening?"

That is a one-line lesson on visualisation. Similar to what I tell expectant mothers - visualise their birth, their labour etc. But this time, the lesson was for me. From my fishball boy Owain no less. He intoned it very solemnly too.

The scenario? The Granny Game.

I am, I have to confess, hooked on the granny game. This is the computer game called Granny in Paradise. Little old lady granny goes in search of cats, evading spear-carrying Tiki men, gorillas in tuxedoes, dogs and robots. We had bought the game for Isaac and downloaded it onto the PC. One day I sat down to try it out and that's it - hooked. So Isaac and I have been alternately competing with each other to see who has the highest scores and alternately helping each other by offering advice on how to get through each level. There are more than 100 levels - we've both since passed this already. So the granny itchy me went off to buy Super Granny 3 with more than 200 levels! So Isaac and I are now ploughing through that.

KH is amused/exasperated by us. The younger kids - Owain and Caitlin - are our audience. (Hence the earlier words of wisdom from him after one particularly frustrating round when Granny kept dying and dying and I was going aaarrgghhh!!)

And Trin? Just loves to nurse when I'm banging the arrow keys during the games. So sometimes when granny 'dies' I go: "Aiyah, see lah! Trin, you shouldn't have moved - I couldn't dig a hole fast enough!" Bad mummy to blame the baby, eh!

KH says that I get very anal when I watch Isaac play, offering advice all the time, that I should just leave him alone. Anal?? You haven't seen HIM offering 'advice' when I play! He says, in his usual rapid-fire way, stuff like:

"Mum!! For goodness sake, why are you always, forever, doing the wrong thing???"

"Dig a hole. You have to kill them here. Dig a hole. DIG A HOLE!! Now mum, dig!! DIG!!! Aargh! I told you to dig a hole! See lah!"

"Now run. Run mum, run!! No, no, no, not THAT way!!"

"Can you for once stop caring about getting all your flowers? Just run already lah. Get out of there! I don't understand whats so important about getting flowers when your life is at stake!!"

"Forget the cats. Granny is more important. Sacrifice the cats now!! JUMP!! JUMP!!"

I put up with this running critical monologue all the time. Can get very distracting. So sometimes I shush him. But when its his turn to play, its my turn to give the critique! Sometimes when I can't get out of a tight spot, I hand him the keyboard and tell him to go for it and get me out. Thats when I feel my age. Somehow he just has the knack to quickly figure out the best 'strategy' or 'route' to get Granny out alive. Whereas I usually have to sacrifice a few Grannies before I make it.

Playing Granny is always very fun with the kids all around. The girls tend to gasp and scream when Gran hits a tight spot. And the kids give the bad guys in the game names - like Crazy Poodle (for the demonic looking pink poodles with red glowing eyes that come after Granny). "Crazy Poodles' coming!" they cry as the poodle appears.

And for all the trash-talking that Isaac and I do, I think Granny has helped us bond in a certain way too. Reading The Wonder of Boys, it is similar to what Gurian says: that we need to communicate at their level. We need to reach them on their terms - and this means speaking the 'lingo', using their competitive nature etc. As a mother and a female, reaching out to boys is different from reaching out to girls. Girls are easy - (sort of) we share the same girly-issues. Like Gillian and I 'bond' over talking about fashion/clothes, celeb gossip (she is really, as they say in Chinese "Ba-gua"!) But Isaac is at the age when the boys move away from their mothers. So Granny is one very useful bridge between us. And so is Harry Potter - but that's a whole other blog post.

So if friends find that I am less often posting on AP or replying to emails a bit slower - ah, blame Granny. :-)

Conversations

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Isaac said: I want to be President.

I go: President of what? Timbuktu? USA? Singapore?

Isaac: Err... I think just Singapore lah.... Or no lah... I think I will just be a minister.

I go: Wah, that is very good! Being a minister means you must first do very very very very very well in school, get lots of scholarships etc.

Isaac: Errr... okay okay, I changed my mind! I'll just be a businessman!

KH steps in: Its not easy being a businessman, you need to work very hard to be successful. But at the end of the day, nothing in life will come easy - to do well, you just need to work very hard. If not, we might as well just sit in a corner and wait to die. Everything in life requires effort!

Caitlin: Mummy, mummy, I know what I want to be when I grow up! I want to be a ballet teacher and teach little girls how to dance!

Owain: I think I want to be a soldier. (He's more testosterone-laden than Isaac!)

I said: But what if there is a war? Won't it be dangerous?

Owain: No!

I said: What if people shoot at you? Isn't that dangerous?

Owain: No, I will just shoot them back!! Bambambambambambam!!!

Sigh.

Gillian: Er, I think I just want to be a mother just like you. I like to take care of babies and children.

I think she would be quite good at it too. And there can be no higher praise for me.

Nursing Owain

And while we're on breastfeeding. We love to tease Owain about when he's going to stop nursing. Especially my parents who will tut-tut and say that he's a big boy and should stop etc. I don't get indignant about this because I know they mean well and I am guilty of yanking his chain like this once in a while too. The boy is well able to defend his nen-nen turf. Thus far, he had always fended them off by saying that he will stop drinking nen-nen when he is 4 years old and ends by saying indignantly that he is still 3 years old!

But lately, as his 4th birthday draws near, he has changed his tune. He now says: When I am 4 years old, I will put a big sign that says "Mummies can give 4 year old boys nen-nen!" When I remind him that he said he would stop asking for nen-nen when he is 4 years old, he grins and laughs and denies saying it.

Well, he's the oldest I have nursed so far and he shows no signs of stopping. He still wakes up every 3 hours at night asking for nen-nen. I'm trying to night-wean him because my eczemic nipples are really crying out for some relief and because Trin is constantly on the breast at night - more so than Owain. Between this one and that one, it means almost constant nursing through the night hours. The poor latching and shallow suckling on broken skin and fissures is really agony. So I'm trying to wean Owain for the night - but it does not look like it's happening. He still wakes up regularly to ask for nen-nen.

These days at night, I ask for a story before nursing. He has to tell me a story before I nurse him. He always laughs and protests and then teases me by saying: "Once upon a time... The End!" and then he guffaws. When I insist, he tells me a 'story' - "Once upon a time... There was a boy called Owainy Benedict Chong Boon Khai... One day his baby sister went to the minimart... and Owainy couldn't find her. So he went to the minimart himself. The end!" Guffaw again.

We go a few rounds and then I relent and let my fishball boy nurse.

This thing about the minimart - the children love to go there and Lolita spoils them by taking them there and buying them little tidbits. Yesterday when I came home, Owain rushed up to me to say: Mummy, you will be very proud of me because I went to the minimart and I didn't eat Mamee Noodles! (His favourite unhealthy snack! He knows I disapprove of Mamee Noodles - those dried noodle snacks with a sachet of flavouring - MSG laden! - that is poured over the noodles and given a good shake.)

And the sweetest thing about nursing an older child - not just the verbal parlay, but the sweet expressions of love. Sometimes he would hug my arm, look up at me and say, mouth full of breast: Mum, I love you soooooo much. And I will never forget you.

Ah that pierces the heart so deeply. Words like that make me realise why love is always akin to a sword, one feels it sting so deeply and keenly, like a solid ache in the chest. I tell him too: I love you sooooooo much too. And I will never forget you also. Never ever.

I'm glad I'm blogging because this fishball boy will always stay this way in my blog - frozen in this kind of poignant sweetness. With every day that passes, he will grow up and away from me. The selfish part of me wishes I can stop time and keep him forever as my little smart-mouthed fishball boy. But no one can stop time. This is life. He will grow to be an older boy, then a teenager, then a man, get married, move away from me. And I will no longer be the centre of his universe as I am now. So now is the time to love as deeply and fully and richly as possible. But deep inside, I will always remember my fishball boy and the times when he tells me stories and tells me he loves me. Years later, these will be the memories I will call up to pierce my heart all over again.

How could I ever forget my fishball boy?

Setting a record... and then what?

Come 8 August 2007, breastfeeding mothers all over the world will be doing their bit to raise some awareness on breastfeeding. In Singapore, the BMSG is organising a mass breastfeeding event. Mothers are called to come nurse their nurslings in unity at the magic time of 10am Singapore time. This synchronises with other groups all over the world who are also breastfeeding then. The group hopes to set a national record to have the largest number of mothers breastfeeding simultaneously. So come one, come all, bring your nurslings and your breasts and together, we will sit and nurse. I'm not quite sure how they will do this - on the count of three? Okay I am being facetious.

Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against this. I support all efforts to raise breastfeeding awareness. Somewhere out there, I'm sure there will be mothers who will benefit from this.

Somehow.

And that, I guess, is my beef with this. So let me grouse - after all, this is my blog! WBW comes but once a year. What has quietly slumbered for 51 weeks suddenly roars to life as the media machinery (provided no other hot stories) scrambles. Photogs take pictures, journalists coax interesting soundbites as mothers smile, babies nurse (whats with the hullabaloo?) . The breast of course, never makes it to Page 1. All breasts, who are the stars of the show, ironically remain coyly under wraps. This IS Singapore after all... God forbid that a breastfeeding mother show more booby flesh than the cover of IHM!

But I digress. Again, not my beef. If the media goes to town with breastfeeding, and that results in one more mother, one more father and one more mother-in-law out there gaining respect and support for breastfeeding then I say - more power to the media!

But then, what happens the other 51 weeks of the year? What happens when the national record is set? So we get 1178 mothers nursing simultaneously in Singapore. Then what? What does it prove? What does it change? What practical help does this record offer?

We still get the same old rubbishy myths on breastfeeding being circulated eg breastmilk loses nutritional value after one year! There will still be mothers inundated with formula ads that tell half-truths or even plain untruths. There will still be employers who sniff at nursing breaks, who baulk at setting nursing rooms. Most of Singapore's hospitals will still remain un-Babyfriendly. We will still have a cord blood bank but sadly, not a milk bank. Formula manufacturers still gleefully test the thin line boundaries of the SIFECs Code.

And if this sounds gloomy and depressing, then wait a bit. We're really not half bad already.

In Singapore, I think the level of awareness for breastfeeding is higher than it has ever been. Our breastfeeding initiation rates are well into the 90+ percentile. Today in Singapore, we also have more support networks in place and more trained IBCLCs here to help. More mothers start out after birth knowing that breastmilk is the 'gold standard' (I actually disagree with this definition but that's another issue!) and they are motivated to at least 'try' to breastfeed. (Though a good friend I know always quotes Yoda when it comes to the word 'try'. The little guy gets it spot on!)

This places us in a far more fortunate position than many less affluent countries whose mothers are often more susceptible to the 'wonder claims' of formula manufacturers - not uncommonly sometimes with tragic results - especially if sanitation/hygiene etc is not well-established in the country. For us in Singapore, the decision not to breastfeed is not likely to end in tragedy - illness/death. But for fellow mothers elsewhere in poorer countries, this risk is, sadly, very real.

The scenario that played out 20, 30 years ago when the Nestle boycott first swung into action is still very much real. In countries where the WHO Code is not strictly enforced, manufacturers have a field day. Mothers go home with formula packs and are told that the product is 'superior' and can help the child do better in school, the child goes on formula, mother loses supply, poor sanitation comes into the picture, formula is made with contaminated water or wrongly made, or skimped on because the parents eventually can't afford it, then the child falls ill or sometimes dies. This is real.

Why am I saying all this? Because I have yet to make the final, logical link between 1178 mothers simultaneously breastfeeding and that baby dying in some third-world country! How, I wonder, does the national record, help them? And if we don't even think that is relevent, and we don't want to look that far, look closer to home. How does that national record help the factory worker mother here breastfeed her baby for longer than the 2 or 3 months maternity leave (if they even take maternity leave!)? How does that national record work towards persuading doctors, hospitals and the medical establishment to set up a milk bank? How will that persuade hospitals to shape up enough to become Baby-Friendly as under the BFHI set by UNICEF? (I know one hospital here is already working towards this - but others? I think every hospital that is involved with mothers and birthing should be certified BFHI but that again, is a different issue.)

Beyond just solidarity/making records on that one day in a year, I hope we can do more.

Looking beyond Singapore, is there a way that mothers here can show solidarity and support for other mothers elsewhere struggling to breastfeed/or help fly the breastfeeding flag in places where support is needed? Can part of the proceeds from this event go towards any effort to help fund/promote breastfeeding in parts of the world that may need help? Eg Filipino mothers in the Philippines from the recent press reports, are facing a lot of commercial pressure from formula firms. I'm not sure what can be done. But its worth thinking about.

I am all for establishing solidarity and support among breastfeeding moms. And I acknowledge that Singapore's level of breastfeeding awareness today certainly did not grow overnight if we did not have the solidarity created with the help/support of organisations like BMSG, LLL and other committed and dedicated health professionals who pushed for LC certification, training and recognition. Even informal e-groups like Asiaparents have been so instrumental in getting the breastfeeding message across.

So let’s make the records and keep breaking them annually as more mothers breastfeed together. I hope the organisers will think a bit harder about enlarging the picture. This need not just be a once-a-year tea-and-breastfeeding happy get-together for nursing moms. I think it can be a lot more focused and meaningful. We need to get the lactivist spirit going in our moms. For example, I'm all for charging for the event - when mothers know that the funds will be channelled to a good cause, I don't think charging will be a deterrent to participation. And kept to a central location, with a family-friendly restaurant/establishment supporting the cause by sponsoring drinks/meals, might help send secondary messages - eg "my baby eats where I eat" or something like that to show that nursing mothers need not hide in nursing rooms. And as for the funds? Show how the money will be used - perhaps setting up a fund to "Sponsor an LC for 6 months in the Philippines" programme? Or set a "Breast-friendly" certification for local eateries.

Innovative thrusts like this - to nurse simultaneously to create awareness/raise support etc - are good, but let’s not stop there. Otherwise, it runs the danger of just being gimmicky and loses credibility. To me, breastfeeding has to be meaningful year-round - and not just to set a record for WBW once a year.

And since this is my blog, I know what people will say: Well, easy for you to say! Walk the talk then! Join the BMSG and do something! etc etc... I know, I know... That's why its on my blog and not on Asiaparents - haha! It's so easy to be an armchair critic eh? But with two babes at my breasts (literally) and a new business to think about, my arms are quite full for now. Maybe when they wean eh?? Hah! According to Mr Owain, this is not likely in the near future!

Peeing in public

What would you do?

Was at the Novena MRT station waiting for my train last week when I witnessed a not-so-pleasant act. The station, on a weekday afternoon, was moderately empty. I had walked down the escalator heading towards an empty bench when I did a double-take at what I saw: at an adjacent bench, a mother pulling down the pants of a 6 or 7-year-old girl. The girl was giggling away. At first I thought the mom was helping the girl change - perhaps she had soiled her shorts etc. I thought it was odd and a bit uncomfortable that her private parts could be clearly seen by anyone. It was a very public place after all.

But no, she didn't need to change. The girl needed to pee. And the mother gave me an apologetic smile as she made the girl squat and held a plastic bag for the girl to pee into. All this was in full view of the handful of other commuters. After that, she wiped the girl up, tied up the bag of pee and looked for a bin (which, thanks to anti-terrorist measures, were no longer in existence in MRT stations). Failing to find one, she stuffed it into her stroller (she was also with a toddler and an older boy around 12yrs, and a man - presumably her husband). A puddle of pee was left on the floor - she didn't bother to wipe it up.

First, why let a girl of that age do this in public? I would have left the station to find a toilet. Not difficult - the basement of Sq2 (linked to the MRT concourse) had easy toilets - just round the corner. I can't imagine asking Cait to do something like this - and for heavens' sake the girl should be old enough to hold the pee until you reach the Sq2 toilets! She's not a toddler. At the age of 6, I'm conscious enough of girl modesty that I keep nagging Cait to sit properly, try not to let underwear show, not to scratch herself there in public etc. I would be curious about this little girl's mindset (and her mother's) with regards to modesty that she sees nothing wrong in peeing in public like that. Even a 3yo boy like Owain, when he has to pee and there is nowhere but the nearest bush/tree, is squeamish about it. He always says, no mummy people can see! So I wonder at this mother's total lack of self-consciousness. After all, this was not a tree/bush or even a semi-private area, but the waiting area of an MRT station!

Secondly, that puddle of pee. And here's where I think I did not do the right thing. I debated internally about that puddle. Should I walk up to them and ask that they wipe it clean? Or mind my own business? Or should I alert the station master to get a cleaner? Not to squeal on them, but just to clean it up? And what if the station master started asking questions - would I have to finger them? What if there was a scene? I hate scenes. And so on... until the decision was taken out of my hands by the arrival of the train.

To my consternation, the group entered the same train and ended up sitting right in front of me. The most I could do was to give an icy glare. But it was moot anyway since she conscientiously avoided looking at me.

Upon reflection, I think I did not do well there too. My courage failed me. The lack of civic consciousness displayed by that action is compounded by my silent complicity. By keeping quiet, I implicitly 'approved' the action. After all, we also believe a sin is caused by commission as well as omission. If I felt so uncomfortable about it, I should have spoken up. Would that have made a difference to the woman? Clearly she already knew it was not right and she felt uncomfortable about it - she would not meet my gaze. Hopefully she thinks about it and not do this again.

And as for me, I need to learn to take a deep breath and speak up when things do not sit right.
I tell my children it is important to speak up for people, for what they believe is right or wrong. But my action in this situation shows that I am unable to walk the talk. So... this needs more work.

We got in!

So God decided for us after all. And it will be CHIJ Toa Payoh for Caitlin.

I still have my doubts about it but it is really in His hands. We will just keep going on the path He has set and do the best we can along the way.

This morning, KH and I attended the balloting exercise. My first ever balloting exercise and I was curious to see how it would be conducted. We were early and could see other parents milling about outside the room. Among them, an old friend/colleague I had not seen in years! She was also trying for IJ TP for her daughter but because they lived in Yio Chu Kang, they were clearly out of the 2km. We exchanged notes and chatted for a while until it was time to troop in.

All the application slips were folded into quarters and slipped into a big glass bowl. There were 33 girls balloting for 18 places. So the chances were about 50-50. The atmosphere was tense as parents sat in rows and watched as the names of all the girls (and their application numbers) were called out.

We were number 137. My friend's daughter's number was 122.

The atmosphere was tense and no one spoke. You could cut the cool tense atmosphere with a knife cleanly! I never thought that I would be tense about it but I was! I, who had doubts about Caitlin attending IJ, had told myself and KH nonchalantly that it would not matter. We would attend out of curiosity but no biggie if she does not get in.

But who was I kidding? The competitive streak had come flaring out! We all wanted our girls in there and everyone stared daggers at the lady conducting the balloting.

After about five names, Cait's name was called! Jubilation! It reminded me of D&D lucky draws. I went to the front and picked another name out of the bowl - successful applicants got to pick the next one. I had mixed feelings - triumph, yes, but also the same niggling doubts and fears - would we be asking too much of Cait? Would it be too stressful for her? Could she fit in? Would she be happier with her classmates in Canossa? And at the same time, I felt bad going back to my seat next to my friend, whose daughter's name still had not been called. I felt bad for being happy that Cait was called.

There were still a couple more names to be called so we sat in silence wondering if her daughter's name would be next. But no, it was not to be.

It was awkward saying goodbye and leaving. I had gotten in and she had not. And I felt bad for it. I did not know what to say, fumbled about a bit and then said goodbye. While I wanted to plaster a big grin on my face, I felt it was in poor taste to do so. So I had to school my face to a sombre expression (did I ever tell you of my propensity to laugh at funerals? Well the urge to do so was happening again then!) and leave the room quickly.

I went home and told Cait. I think I was mean but I didn't say so directly, leaving the suspense hanging as well and finally, she looked at me tensely with those big eyes of hers and said: oh mummy, WHAT? Am I in the school or not? When I nodded, she burst into a big smile and clapped delightedly.

Oh we are celebrating tonight. This and also because it is KH's birthday today too. He said his birthday wish had come true.

Well, I hope the wish that comes true works out also best for Cait. Now this, is worth praying for.

No turning back!

This morning, thanks to KH telling me about the big long queue for air tickets, I panicked. I had not bought the NW tickets to Tokyo yet, preferring to wait until Sept. It was a wake-up call and I realised I'd better get moving on it. So I dialled in to NW and bought the tickets - buy 1 get 1 free! Yippee!

Next month, I will start making hotel reservations and if we're going to Kyoto, buy the rail pass - that will be a hefty chunk! Still mulling over whether to go, or just stay put in Tokyo...

BirthRight goes 'LIVE'

Finally eh??

Scary thing it is to see your webby go live. Now I'm out there for everyone to see. Makes me feel so naked. It's one thing to blog - I still feel some sense of anonymity. But the webby has my name, my face, my phone number...

Even getting this thing up has been one problem after another. After sitting on it, exploring options etc and dawdling, when I finally got down to doing it, there were hiccups galore. At one point I wondered if I was meant to do this or not!

So after wrangling with the design firm, writing, choosing pictures, down to some painstakingly amateur 'designing'/layout on word to show the design firm what I wanted, here it is!

www.birthright.com.sg

Welcome to the world!

Trin on her throne

We finally 'upgraded' Owain to a booster in the middle row and Trin to her very own car-seat (Owain's and Cait's second hand seat! Not bad for a $50 seat bought from one of the mums on AP so many years ago!) . Trin sits in the last row.

I hope I am not hexing myself when I write this, but I have been holding my breath in anticipation of the tantrums but it has not happened yet. Touch wood, touch wood! So far so good. She's been eagerly looking forward to sitting in her seat, docilely waiting to be belted in and throughout the journey, she's been looking out the window, singing or babbling away. No tantrum. The closest she went to a full-scale tantrum was some whining and off-on crying for about 5min. But that was because she was sleepy. When we looked back after some minutes of silence, we found her asleep.

The seat next to her is the hottest seat in the car. Owain and Cait (and sometimes Gillian) all argue over whose turn it is to sit next to her. And that one time when she had the on-off crying, all the kids were trying desperately to pacify her - rather noisily!

I get such a deep feeling of satisfaction when I peer back and look at the two rows behind filled with the happy faces of all my children - and all their squabbling, wrestling, arguing and bad singing. My car - and my hands - are full.

God help me if Number six ever comes along! We'll definitely have to buy a van...

U-turn

This P1 registration has more twists and turns than a korean drama.

Yesterday KH took the day off and we went to do the registration. We had pretty much decided it would be Canossa Convent. In the morning, after brekkie in Toa Payoh and while waiting for Toyogo to open so we can buy new shoe racks, we had a 'window' of free time - about 20min. So we decided to just swing by IJ TP to have a look - this is the trouble with being too free!

So we dropped by the school. I was swarmed by a group of little P3 girls (very cute all of them!) trying to sell me stationery - pens, pencils, rulers etc. They were doing their own 'business' and it was a class project. I found it all very entertaining to talk to these 'entrepreneurs', watch how they sell, get the change etc. I thought it was a fun sort of exercise.

The canteen looked homey to me. It had a reading corner with books untidily stacked on a shelf, with comfy chairs, two well-worn pianos and a combination of canteen tables and cafe tables/chairs. It was obviously recess time and the girls were all over the place. I liked the general atmosphere.

A check with the lady 'guarding' the entrance to the hall (who issues out the queue numbers and forms) showed that there were already 40 applicants ahead of us. IJ TP had 58 places available for Phase 2B. So gee, we thought, what are our chances? Moreover they needed parent's baptism cert - which I didn't have. So we left, but the germ of the idea of trying for IJ had already been planted. KH drove to Risen Christ to get Fr Adrian to write a letter to 'certify' that we are parishioners of the church but alas Fr had gone for a medical. Then the man decided to drive to St Michael's Church where I was baptised to ask for an extract. But the office was closed.

So what does it look like? This feverish rush from Pt A to Pt B to get documents - like we're trying out for IJ right??

We ended the morning by picking Cait up from school. I sauntered over to Canossa's registration point - which, unlike the IJ set-up, was pretty informal. They were just taking in registrations from the general office - just walk in and sign up. IJ had signages, forms, stations, and a battery of teachers ready etc.

Anyway Canossa had only 4 signed up in the morning. They had 57 places available for 2B. And no, they didn't need parent's baptism cert. We did not register. We were still in a iffy kind of mood.

After lunch, KH said: let's go back to IJ. So that Cait can have a look around before we decide. So off we went again.

All this time Cait is saying: I like Canossa Convent. I want to go there. NOT CHIJ!

And her dad goes: wait till you see the place first!

At IJ, we walked around a bit. Cait is pretty quiet. She thinks the place is big. But still says: I don't want this school. I want Canossa!

So I told her abt the pros and cons etc. She still maintained it was Canossa, so okay, we all pile into the car, got the kids belted in, KH drove out of the lot and I asked: You sure you want Canossa? And then Cait went: Err, no. I want this school.

KH stopped the car. We all looked at her. Repeat conversation. She now wanted IJ. And said: mum, you keep asking me the same question. I want this school!

And why? Transport issue. I had told her that it was harder to get home from CCPS than from Toa Payoh. And based on that, she now wanted IJ.

So we parked the car again, and went to register. At the point of registration, there were 49 places taken (including us). I had mixed feelings. One, while I like the general sense of the school, I feared a lack of compassion/help/support should Cait really be dyslexic or if she under performs. Two, I wondered if I 'forced' her into it with all the talk about transport etc. Three, I wondered if she would really be happy there. Canossa has a nice comfy small-town village feeling about it. IJ did not. I also noted a large number of girls who were from Marymount Kindy. Uh, a bit more of an 'atas' feel than the homey Magdalene's Kindy.

Looking at the numbers, very likely, there would be balloting. We decided to call back today to see what our chances were like.

So here we are today. I just called and as at 12nn, there are 61 applicants for 58 places. Those living within 1 and 2km are already in - 36 of them - so balloting is likely for those living outside the 2km zone (which means us). There are about 25 people who might need to ballot for the remaining places 22 places. That is IF there are no further applicants this afternoon. The school thinks it is likely that there will be and the final number of places to be balloted for might fall in the region of about 18.

KH says: let's ballot. He thinks we can still get a chance to get into Canossa if we are balloted out of IJ. I am hemming and hawing. I still have my doubts about whether IJ will fit Cait. I called Cait and she patiently answered all my questions. When I asked: What will you do if your friends are not in IJ and they have applied for Canossa? She said, very matter-of-fact: I don't know. Find new ones! Mum, she said, you've asked me the same question three times already!

Okay. We seem to be in a c'est la vie mood. Caitlin seems buoyant about IJ. It's really just me. I never thought I'd live through one of these 'balloting' events. But never say never. I just know that at 8am on 25 July (KH's birthday!) that I will be at IJ TP, gripping the edge of my chair!

And by the way, they checked Cait's immunisation records in the health booklet. And hey, no one mentioned anything about the lack of MMR!

Hair Today...

"I think you're exposing your children to a lot of necessary risk!" said the doctor.

"Well I think I would be exposing my children to many more unknown risks if I vaccinate them!" I retorted.

You can tell that the conversation had sort of degenerated by then.

I had brought Owain for his hair check-up. We have been going there for more than a year already and we have not progressed much. The doctors cannot say conclusively what is the cause of his poor/slow hair growth. Terms like Alopecia Areata were offered by some doctors and rejected by others. Then they suspected it was poor nutrition - which I indignantly object to since the boy, in addition to being breast-fed, also eats many other stuff. So they recommended multi-vits. Which I dutifully bought. Then they suspected it was hereditary. But when I brought all my kids along for one visit, that theory went out the window!

They finally ran out of theories and solutions. So the latest is, they think (or at least THIS doctor thinks!) it is 'congenital hypotrichosis' - a term which generally means someone who is born with little or no hair. I love it - all these little official-sounding names that basically just means that no one knows what is happening or what to do!

First, this doctor asked me about his weight-height co-relation and what percentile he was in. I said I don't know. Owain has never visited any paed or polyclinic for these evaluations before and I don't give a good hogwash about this either. So she took his height and weight, but the clinic did not have a growth chart! She tried to search the internet. I helpfully suggested the new charts by WHO for breastfed children. She could not find them.

She looked at him and said, he seems small for his age. Really? I was surprised. It didn't strike me. But then she looked at me and said: But mummy is short (yes thanks!) and daddy is...

Short too. I replied. Ah, she nodded. I didn't bother to explain that Isaac was so short for his age he is below the 3rd percentile! (As I recently saw from his health booklet!)

Then she suggested it could be a nutritional deficiency. I said that, as per recommendations, he was already taking a multi-vit supplement. But there has been no obvious progress/improvement. She suggested iron supplements to add on. I am never in favour of blanket supplementation. So we had an exchange on what happens if there was excess iron, etc. She said it was no problem with excess iron because the body passes out the excess. (This is so typical of many doctors - not giving the full picture). I argued that excess iron causes problems like constipation and interferes with immunity function. The only way to tell if a person is anemic, I said, is by a blood test. Which can also show other deficiencies. If that is what they are looking for. She said it's invasive. I agreed. She said she did not like to subject children to these invasive tests. I also agreed. Then she said looking at him, he did not seem anemic - his colour was good and results may only indicate a borderline anemia. You could tell all this, she said, just by looking at him! Argh!

She goes on to ask if he was doing okay in school. When I said he was not in school, she went: Not Nursery? No, I went. I might send him to K1 next year but no, he's never been to school. Then her eyes widened again and she repeated: Not even Nursery??

No, I said evenly. Not even Nursery. Then she went: Oh then you must be homeschooling him! Before I traumatised this woman any further with more examples of my bad, idle parenting, I decided to bite my tongue and just say: yes.

The only 'homeschooling' I did was to let him scribble with a pencil, build robots and play Rush Hour. You think that counts?

Then I asked the 6mil dollar question. Is it alopecia areata? Some of you say yes, so what is the conclusion? I decide to be frank- big mistake. I said I wanted to know if the cause of his poor hair growth was due to a glitch in the immune system ie alopecia areata. And if it was an auto-immune thing, then I could make decisions about whether he could be vaccinated in future. Actually, if it was, I would want a letter stating the diagnosis, which I would keep in his file.

That was when she asked: You mean he has not been vaccinated at all in his entire life? Not even once?

I said yes and that was when she shot me that line. And so we had that little icy exchange. I went on to say that all vaccinations affect the immune system. And if this condition is clearly caused by an immune system that has gone a little wonky, then I am not prepared to do more in vaxing him. If it isn't, then I would be open to vaxing him when he was a little older.

When I pushed harder about how we can find out, she says that they do not have the right equipment (or the expertise to interpret the results!) to find out. That would mean sending hair samples overseas for testing and that would cost a lot. And even if you find out, she finished, that would be a purely academic exercise. Because? Because there really isn't anything that they can do to reverse/improve the situation. Ah I see.

So there it is. One year and many visits later.

We still do not know why Owain's hair does not grow, why it comes out by the fistfuls whenever someone (ie Trin!) tugs at it or when he pulls off his goggles after swimming. And why that never seems to hurt him. We still don't know why it grows so slowly that he has never had a haircut in his life. And we still don't know how we can treat this.

All I can say is, lucky he's a boy - at most we can just shave him botak and do a Kojak. I think he would look kinda cool actually. Maybe when he's outgrown his baby look. Right now the combination of round face, soft curls still make teenaged girls and aunties coo: Sooo CUTE!!

We have another appointment to come back in six months. Meanwhile, there's nothing we can do but just sit back, relax and watch the hair grow.

Happiness

KH had come home from work and said to the children: I've decided to give your mummy an ice-cream treat. We can go anywhere she wants and she decides who she wants to come along.

Well can I say no to five eager faces looking at me for ice-cream??

So we all went. The mood was quite festive. Ended up at Island Creamery at Serene Centre. The place was still crowded at 9+ at night. I had Kahlua Latte. The kids and KH had Black Forest, Reverso and Cookies 'n' Cream. The ice-cream as usual, did not disappoint. It was dense and rich. What a lovely treat.

Moments like this spell Happiness. Just a drive out on a weekday night, sitting round a table eating ice-cream companionably. Very simple, everyday stuff, but we will remember and enjoy these times. After ice-cream, it was a straight drive home after detouring and gawking at the Gallop Road mansions.

In the car, radio on, children snoozing and those awake chatting quietly to each other. It was a nice cocoon to be in. Even Trinity fell asleep in her car seat (yes we graduated Owain to a booster in the middle row and Trin got her own seat in row 3. A bit of a squeeze and when Lolita comes along, the booster seat will have to go.) and did not rouse even when we moved her from the car to the bed.

Contentment.

Asleep in their beds

Last night marked the first night of our new sleeping arrangments.

Isaac moved out into the new Blue room where he had his new loft bed. Cait moved into Isaac's space in the 'new' Pink room. (and by the way, they are not pink and blue because of gender stereotypes. The girls chose their own colour and the boys chose their own!)

The girls were okay about it and Cait settled into her 'new' bed/arrangement easily. Isaac wandered into my room when I was tandeming Trin and Owain, and said: Er mum, is Owain going to sleep in my room tonight? He looked a bit sheepish. For all his expostulations about Owain sharing his room and 'messing it up' and generally cramping his style, he still wanted Owain in the room because he was afraid of sleeping alone. On hearing Isaac's question, Owain paused his nursing to say: kor wants me to sleep with him cos he's afraid of the dark.

Haha - that was spot-on!

I also moved Owain's little bed (formerly Cait's but now his) into the Blue room - it's where he would sleep eventually. We thought we'd try it out for a night to see if he could sleep without me and without his nen-nen. I didn't think he would but we just thought we'd try. Well that worked for about all of 10 minutes. He tried out the bed, we moved the bedding and proclaimed he liked it. I was delighted. But later as he got sleepier, he asked to nurse and I agreed. Okay, I said, you can have nen-nen but after that you have to go to your room alright? He agreed so we tandemed in my bed with Trin at her usual space.

After he nursed and got off the breast, I said: okay good night. Remember that you can come back here to mummy's room anytime at night if you want nen-nen okay?

He nodded and sidled to the door, went out, but came back in a minute later to say with his cheeky grin: hi mum...

I smiled - I could guess what he wanted. Then he said wistfully: I wish I can sleep in your room... So I said: well let's just try sleeping in your own room for just tonight okay? But if you want to, you can come lie down next to me for now and daddy will shift you over later.

So he happily jumped back in bed, snuggled in and conked out in five minutes. When KH came back in, he saw Owain sleeping and instead of shifting him back to his room, just chuckled about it, moved him further in to make space. And that was that - Owain never spent the night in his room after all. He just continued where we left off - in the same bed.

Baby steps. With Caitlin gone out of my bed, then now, out of my room at the age of 6, only Trin and Owain are left. They have years yet.

Hint hint

Had a meeting last week with both my bosses - BigBoss (BB) and JuniorBoss (JB). Ostensibly to discuss my work performance - it was appraisal time. So BB did most of the talking. Said he recognised my performance even though I was not on 100% (!!) because I was working half-time instead of full-time. He said I was not being 'utilised' the way I should be. But nevertheless, he recognised it and gave me a slightly higher increment than the norm. Well thanks! He also took the opportunity to hint, actually he came right out and said it: I've been patient for 3 to 4 years already, supporting your part-time work scheme. But it would be easier for us if you came back. No pressure, no pressure! Still, it would be nice if you could talk to your husband, talk to your family... see if you can come back soon...

I mumble something about coming back next year maybe. And BB heartily goes on, that would be good. So just think about it, talk to the family eh?

Not that I have not been thinking about it.

I have been working half-time for the past 6 or 7 years already. I have been getting half my pay, half my benefits, half my leave. I have had to forgo my long-service award and my long-service leave increase. I have seen my peers move up the ladder - managers, section heads, asst directors. Today, my profile is so low that people who meet me on campus say in surprise: Eh, you left and came back ah? or You're still here?? I thought you'd left? What have you been doing?

In a way it stings because before this, okay in the days before babies 3, 4 and 5 came along, I was heading media/pubs and you'd see me on campus-wide committees and generally I'd be seen more often.

But I can't and I don't blame the babies. I have had a richer life since I cut back 7 years ago. I think of how, when it was only Gillian and Isaac, and the constant rush to bring them to my mom's place when they were babies, coming back in the evenings, rushing back home to pasir ris, bathing them, feeding them, reading to them, (quality time!) and how it all felt like I was on a treadmill. I felt like I missed their babyhood. I'm glad it was not like that for Cait, Owain and Trin. And anyway, cutting back was not just because of the babies, it was because I was burnt out. I was just very tired of what I was doing, liaising with the press, writing releases, meeting deadlines.

I was so sick of things that I badly wanted to leave back then. I was 6months preggie, and had secured a job offer to head a well-known local parenting magazine. But my CEO (lovely man!)stepped in, got me a transfer, approved my cut hours. And got me thinking about my priorities. Well-known parenting magazine had also wanted me back in the office one month after I gave birth (to Cait). They were not willing to give me maternity leave and they were well within their rights not to do so. Yes the job was challenging (it involved revamping the whole publication) and the money was decent. But when I realised that it was just a leap from one treadmill to another, that was when I baulked and said forget it.

So I have been happy the past few years. Very comfortable too. But even comfort has its limits.

Now that Trin is growing, I do feel restless. I wonder if it's time to return. Having said that, I still also grapple with the same old issues of losing touch with my kids. It will not be easy to go back to full-time work. I will miss my freedom of having 'free' days in the middle of the week, of being able to do things with the kids, or alone by myself. What price this kind of freedom?

It's also not true to say that the kids are growing up and they no longer need me as much. I think my kids will always need me at every stage of their development - already I have broody adolescents on my hands! And its not about 'problem' kids either. Ordinary kids need their mums around too. And having BTDT with working f/t and having kids, there is no such thing as 'quality time'. There is only time itself - and very often, too little of it to go round. I see KH when he comes home at night and the kids swarm around him. He has precious little time to spend with each and every one of them. If I go back to f/t work, it will be the same for me.

Then there is BirthRight. If I return to full-time work, where is the impetus to work at BirthRight? Sam posted a message some time ago on whether it was time to 'change my line'. I don't feel ready to chuck it all and go f/t on BirthRight. At the moment, in its current form, BirthRight can never give me the same financial security that my f/t job can. And honestly, as I told Rita once, I don't think I have the killer instinct/guts to go out and run a business. I hate feeling stressed because of competition. I enjoy my work in BirthRight and I love meeting the couples but I honestly dislike the 'business' end of it - thinking of the website, thinking of how to market it.

Well, I have until March 31 2008 to think about it.

Books, brains and games

Yesterday Owain came up to me and said: mummy can you teach me to read? then I can read any book to you! Ah music to my ears. I'd been waiting for this.

He's been sitting aside watching me and Cait go through the Ladybird books. Once or twice before he would try as well. But when he got it wrong or seemed put out by his mistake, I let it go. No pressure. He would learn when he was ready and more importantly, when he wanted to!

So last night, he came up to me with this and we sat down with book 1A. He found it harder than Cait, probably because Cait already had some visual knowledge of sight words from school - it was not all foreign to her. But for Owain, it was all new. He seemed to concentrate/focus hard and was frustrated when he got it wrong. I was ready to stop but he said no, want some more. So we ploughed on a bit more. Finally, I didn't want to kill his enthusiasm so I stopped for the night and was adamant about stopping despite his pleas for more.

Cait has finished books 1A and 1B and is now starting the first couple of pages of 2A. I am also reading Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons, thanks to Ee Lin's recommendation on AP. The book looks formidably cheem initially. And it is a bit dry. But I like it that they tell you exactly what to teach (takes the thinking out of it for me!) and what they say also makes sense. Eg I learnt that one should not teach a child the letter names but rather, letter sounds. So we should not say this is the letter 'M'. Rather, we say this sounds like Mmmmm. These are initial tools of decoding which is necessary for reading skills. I'm still in the early pages but I like what I am reading.

Also reading The Wonder of Boys by Michael Gurion. Interesting first chapter on the biology of boys. He also mentioned the idea of testosterone levels being affected and altered during the prenatal days by maternal stress and therefore resulting in a less 'male brain' being structured or even homosexuality tendencies coming into play. Very interesting reading about the differences between the male brain and the female brain. The fact that girls have a higher level of serotonin and lower levels of testosterone and boys the opposite, would explain the differences in attitudes and behaviour among boys and girls. Boys being more aggressive and more active and more ambitious. Girls demonstrating more conciliatory behaviour.

Its not just about upbringing. The differences are hardwired in the brain. So it does not matter whether you let your boy play with guns or dolls. A boy will just as easily bend a barbie doll and pretend it's a gun! I see this with Owain all the time. Every chance he gets he makes a 'gun' or a robot that 'blasts the enemies!'. Even an umbrella can be a sword. And so on. Both boys now enjoy wrestling with each other. They do this everywhere. Isaac may not seem as active-aggressive as the typical boy (certainly not as much as Owain), preferring to read etc, just watch him in a computer game or during any form of game/competition (even playing scrabble!) and see how emotionally competitive he gets! The aggression and competitiveness will manifest in different ways - both overt and subtle.

The girls on the other hand, are more into 'talky' games - pretend play, playing with dolls, playing shop, tea-sets etc.

Speaking of games, the older kids are into Scrabble now. I play with them because Scrabble is a game I enjoy but could not find anyone to play with until now (my sister lives in KL and KH has refused to play with me since 1988 when he had a fluke win - he's been boasting ever since that he has beaten me already so no need to play anymore. No amount of threats/cajoles will get him to a re-match). So these days, you'll find me, Isaac and Gillian sitting around the coffee table in the living room, the Scrabble board set up nicely. Of course I trounce them lah, with margins of more than 60 points but its still fun. Isaac never gives up trying to trounce me. :-)

Not only Scrabble but Dum. KH had taught Owain and Cait how to play. So last night all the kids crammed into my bedroom for some games of 'Dum' (checkers). The younger kids had a go and then the older kids. And along the way everyone would shout instructions and opinions. Inevitably someone would yell: "Oi!! Can't you see you're letting him/her win??" and "Noooo... you cannot go BACKWARDS!"

I only step in when words like 'stupid' or 'idiot' or 'blind' get bandied about. I am ok with 'goondu' and 'silly' though.

I commented to KH: Wah, so noisy for just a game of 'Dum' and KH said: five children you know... haha, yes I know...

The School Health Comes A'Knockin'

Phone call came from the SHS - how come Isaac still not vaxed for the DT booster. Well I've stalled from P1 to last year, and then last year till now. So I told the nurse that we forgot to send him for his vax last year and said that we would do it this year. So I will postpone again until after our Tokyo trip.

Next Thursday will be P1 registration day for Cait. I am hoping that (a) they won't ask for the booklet and (b) that I can plea bargain for some extra time. But I do know that this will come eventually so I have prepped Cait to expect that she will get an injection sometime this year. Well, I've held off since she was 18mos. So I might not be able to hold off for much longer. Even so, it will be a single measles shot instead of the combined one.

Things will get more interesting two years later with Owain who has never been vaxed at all before! And then it will be Trin's turn all over again!

The Quest for Gorm

We've been 'camping'. Moving from room to room to evade painters, electricians, dust, paint fumes and noise. To no avail. They all keep following us!

It has been a challenge to keep our sanity living amidst renovations. We finally decided to do something about the leaky roof, the flooded rooms and the electricity that goes kaput when it rains.

So for the past 5 weeks the builders have moved in and we are camping out in our own house. It does not help that the builders' sense of project management is so skewed, nor that our budget is modest and our renovations not extensive enough to warrant heavy-duty manpower. So they have been sending us one or two workers a day who putter through what they have to do at a very leisurely pace - which infuriates me of course but there is nothing I can really do. Tried calling to plead for more workers to speed up the pace - nada. Resorted to sarcastic smses - nada. Just got to put up with it.

So right now, we have a hole in the kitchen wall that has not been patched up, a single mattress sits in our living room and has turned into the children's trampoline, we eat 'out' in the living room on a coffee table which is too small for all 7 of us because our dining area has been hijacked by tons of stuff which we have had to move out from the rooms.

ALL our bedrooms have got plastic bags of 'stuff' higgledy-piggledy thrown in for 'sorting'. Laurel and Hardy are parked in one bedroom painting and smoking (I've found cigarette butts in my garden and IN my bathroom!!). The front of my house has been painted, but the side is half painted with sealant and the other half still with my old yellow paint. The porch roof that was done has to be re-done because they cut the rafters and beams too short - the rain now splats into the porch instead of into the drain. Brilliant lot aren't they.

An 'electrician' (and I use this term loosely - he seems to be more your average construction worker than a trained/certified electrician) is wandering around our house dreamily as if in search of a muse - poor chap has no equipment to speak of (he has had to unplug my fridge to use his drill - poor sod did not even have an extension wire! I finally lent him ours when I got tired of seeing my fridge unplugged and re-plugged) and we fear, sketchy electrical knowledge. Yesterday KH came home to find him testing live and dangling wires "for current" and sceptically asked him if he knew what he was doing. The chap waggled his head and said yes. So I'm just crossing my fingers here. And did I mention that the guy cut one wire and now my entire second floor is 'light-less' - all overhead lights no longer work. Sigh. He did that to the TV antenna and killed Kids Central two days ago - the kids howled and our friend had to fix the problem in double-quick time.

Also, we sort of went nuts at Ikea and ended up buying two new sofas. So we threw out the old - it was high time anyway since the fabric had frayed, the stuffing was coming out and one arm had splintered so much that a whole stick of wood was sticking out of it. Too bad. It was might comfy and grungy and was the spot for many an afternoon nap but it was time to go.

Trouble is, the new sofa looked so spanking sleek and new that it (a) sticks out like a sore thumb next to my well-worn cane gem and (b) its so huge that it just dominates the space. So now the living room looks really unco-ordinated and weird.

And speaking of Ikea - we spent five consecutive days at ikea (tampines and alexandra) trawling for stuff. We found most of what we wanted.

But the item that drove us nuts was the Gorm storage shelves. It was quite the head-spinning effort to find the darn shelves.

Useful things I learnt the hard way about Ikea: (1) People working on the showroom floors and people working in the market/warehouse floor DO NOT talk to each other. I wish they would. (2) the Ikea computer system does not know the full inventory/stock list either. Maybe only the head honcho keeps a handwritten list by his bedside updated nightly by elves! No, actually I think elves would have been a lot more efficient. (3) Ikea Tampines and Ikea Alexandra are just pretending to be related - they are actually two different stores totally - and yes, again, they do not talk to each other. I wish they would.

You can gather from this that we went up to the shop floor at Ikea Tampines and were told that Gorm shelves were available. When we went down to the market floor - nup, all were missing. None on the shelves at all.

When we asked the market floor guys, we were told: oh out of stock. Clearly upstairs did not know what downstairs was doing. When was stock coming in? Er, not sure. Okay, so we asked if Alexandra had stock. Uh, dunno - came the reply - our computer systems not linked. Check with Info counter. Right. Info Tampines called Info Alexandra. Alexandra confidently chirped: oh we have more than a thousand pieces in stock! Okay the race was on! Dang the torpedoes!

You know what I mean right? When fate seems determined to foil you and you are equally determined to sock one in its face... KH (by now in one of his I-MUST-GET-THIS moods) drove us (the whole brood plus Lolita) down to Alexandra at the other side of the island. Zoomed into Market Hall and voila! NO stock! Bored salesperson said: check with specialty area.

Wah, I was ready to tear my hair out or tear Ikea's hair out. Went to Specialty area. Asked a sales staff there and she goes: huh? What specialty area?? Not my department, can you try (looking wildly around) that man over there!

I pounced on that unfortunate soul walking past and hissed: Where are your Gorm shelves??

Answer: Er if they're not there, then they're out of stock lah. That's when I had it. I launched into this polite but hissy-sounding lecture about why 1000 missing parts of Gorm were in the Ikea neverland, why couldn't they pay for a better computer system that actually talked to each other and why oh why couldn't someone please just give me some accurate information for a change!

The long and short of it is, after cornering one after another Ikea staff and looking like a volcano about to erupt, one lovely Maggie went behind swing doors and came back with - miracle of miracles! - 9 Gorm shelves that we wanted! Hooray.

KH later said that he was impressed that I pushed on with The Quest for Gorm. He was about to throw in the towel. Yeah right.

You know that if I can go ballistic over 9 sorry Gorm shelves that the reno is really really getting on my nerves.

And yes in case you were wondering, we ARE Friends of Ikea! But honestly after 5 days at Ikea , I don't think I want to see another Swedish meatball anytime soon.

At last!

It was an charged moment when I came downstairs yesterday to get a drink and spotted the thick large envelope that came from Australia.

I knew what was in there. I had waited so long for it but yet when the time came, I felt a strange reluctance to open the envelope. I debated about waiting for KH to come home, to open it together. But then I thought just heck it and open lah! So I sat on the mattress in my living room (did I mention that we are now squatters in our own home? more on that later) and ripped it open.

The envelope contained my transcript, a congratulatory letter from Andrea Robertson, principal of Birth International, a list of qualities which a certified birth educator is now equipped with and of course, the cert itself.

In purple letters: Graduate Diploma in Childbirth Education. My name beneath.

Well, I worked for it alright. Unless you've gone through this course, you can have no idea how rigorous it is. I'm going to reminisce my journey now, so feel free to skip if you already know/don't want to know!

I thought back to the very beginning: 2004 - I'd just joined 4tri and the discussion was between A, G and I on what course I could take to be trained in birth education. There was the local one which A had taken and which G was also taking, run by the local doulas.

Then there was this: run by ACE Graphics, Birth International. Both A and G said they liked this course. It was very comprehensive, but it was also very costly. The local course would have cost about $1k+. The projected cost for the ACE course was around A$5000? Not including my airfare, postal costs, living costs for the Aus workshops etc. I think in all, I must have spent about S$10k in all!

I decided to go with ACE eventually because firstly, it was accredited. The local course is not. I wanted a qualification that could stand up to scrutiny. I thought that Singapore being the paper-chasing place it was, I'd better have something accredited. ACE's course is accredited by the Aussie govt. It was the first and I think, the only course to have accreditation. I would be qualified to teach in Aus, hospitals or otherwise.

Yes, it would be more costly and it looked tough: there were lots more components to this than to the local one. But I felt that if I wanted to do this, let's do it all the way - no half measures. KH agreed with me and my mom also supported me, so let's go!

Because I did not have a basic qualification or tertiary training in midwifery, medicine or any related field, they accepted me into the course as a Special Entry student. Which meant I had to pass two of the Self-Study Units to demonstrate that I could read/analyse complex material and write papers before I would be allowed to stay in the course.

I had not studied or written long papers for the longest time and I was so rusty I was scared! I could not even reference correctly in the beginning! And the first paper I had to complete was on Teaching Adults - yikes! What did I know about that?? I fumbled through it, gasak-butah (Malay for blind guesswork!) and luckily passed it. I managed to pass both papers and was allowed to stay on.

The Self-Study units were not easy - my earlier papers were about 30-40 A4 sheets long. But the later ones - the ones on Maternity Care, Pregnancy etc - all ran into more than 100 A4 sheets each. Each paper required lots of research and reading, from textbooks (my Myles Midwifery text is splitting in the spine already!) and from the Internet, the Cochrane Library. The questions were detailed and technical in nature. I remember asking A once about the HPL hormone and she didn't know the answer, commenting that the ACE course was a lot more 'technical'. But while I cursed and swore and stayed up nights hammering out the papers on the PC, I also found myself learning a lot and shoring up the info base.

By then, things were not working out smoothly on the friendship/business end and I had parted ways with G and A. It was a very emotional period for me. I found it very hard going then. And very lost - I didn't have any other friends in the same 'industry'. And at times, lonely - because I had no one who could understand when I needed to de-brief a birth, or analyse an event/process that had happened, or who to toss ideas with etc. I still feel this loneliness from time to time.

And later, thanks to what happened after Meghan's birth, when the doula community closed ranks against me, I felt even more depressed and marginalised. The incident was a real low point but it just spurred me on to continue and to plug on with the course. And it spurred me to register BirthRight as a legit business! So maybe not so bad after all? God always has a plan.

Well, there were high points as well.

Getting High Distinctions twice for the self-study units were high points. Going to Australia when Trin was 3 weeks and Owain 2yo to attend the compulsory 5-day workshop on prenatal education and the 2-day workshop on active birth was wonderful. I met a bunch of warm, fun, lovely women who were also part of the same journey. They were from different parts of Australia - Sydney, Cairns, Adelaide, some from New Zealand and one from Finland! I learnt a lot.

It was also great having Trin in class with me. She wasn't the only baby - there was another 9-mo baby there too. But she was so precious - I nursed her in a sling and kept her in-arms. She hardly made a peep. I had brought along a 'nest' for her to lie down and that was kept in a corner but was hardly used since she was happy to stay in the sling. We stayed in the YWCA which is where the workshop was held and every morning, you'd see me slinging Cait, holding the large 'nest' or The Boat as we called it, my folders, a bag of diapers etc and taking the lift down to the meeting room. KH would head out for the day with Owain. They'd go to the park, or to the zoo, or to the museum or on many ferry rides criss-crossing Sydney Harbour. We'd meet at the end of the day, walk to Chinatown or down Liverpool St for dinner. I think I really enjoyed those days.

Finally meeting some of my fellow coursemates - Helen, Gill and Vina - really helped keep me going as well. We moaned to each other a lot on email and that helped us de-stress when it mattered - particularly the supervised teaching phase, during the exam and the observations. And now I can't wait to meet them again at the bi-annual NACE conference next year in Melbourne!

Then came the exams - taken right at my cubicle at TP on my day off with my lecturer colleague invigilating me! It was kosher all the way - no extra time just because we were colleagues! Passed one paper with a Credit and the other paper with a Distinction.

Then came the grueling bit - the supervised teaching phase. First - unnerving to finally put into practice what I have learnt. Second - logistics difficulty. Thanks to Julie who lent me her digicam, I taped each session. Then borrowed the DVD recorder to transfer the tapes into DVD, then got to rush to the post office and send the tapes off to my Supervisor. Christine Choong, a certified IBCLC and Grad Dip CBE, who ran a lactation consultancy and birth classes in KL was my supervisor. Always so reassuring and so kind, her comments were always spot-on and constructive. I never felt discouraged with her. And really, thanks to God, who sent some lovely couples my way for my first class!

Then came the next few months of dragging feet and doing the Observations - talking to hospital staff, LCs, lactation counsellors etc. Tedious but it helped build my knowledge base. And finally, the last Presentation Unit which again required videoing and sending over - this time to Australia.

Till now - this thin sheet of paper resting on my lap. It's been quite a long ride.

So here's the GradDip thank-you speech: I could not have done it without my friends cheering me on - Gayle, Sam, Rita, Cory, Mag, Julie (who very generously lent me her digicam twice!). They have restored my faith in loyalty being a cornerstone of friendship. Definitely could not have done it without KH who stoutly defended me when I hit the low points, believed in me and gamely went with me to Aus and took care of O while I went to my workshops. Could not have done it without my able helpers Panem and Lolita who swooped babies away when I needed to get cracking. Christine, my lovely supervisor - so patient and kind! Vi my sis who was my 'despatch girl' in KL. My kids who provided sound and light entertainment and noise. Writing an essay on the characteristics of four different pelvis shapes and the impact this makes on labour and birth is already bad enough. Doing this with one kid at the breast, another kid whining about his sister who won't let him have his book back, another kid asking if I prefered princesses to fairies cos thats what she was going to draw - well, that's a whole different challenge.

And finally, I could not have done it without my mom who listened while I ranted on the medicalisation of birth, shared her memories and insights on birth as a midwife and quietly supported me all the way. I never made it to uni and never had a 'tertiary' cert - 'A' levels not counted. So mom, I can finally put some letters behind my name!

So now that this is done, what's next?

Driving lessons!!

Canossa or not?


KH and I met the Principal of CCPS. A very nice and warm lady. No airs, she was very friendly, no-nonsense, down-to-earth and frank - I like her! We also liked what she said about CCPS.


She was honest and said that CCPS was 'quite' academically oriented. But they don't turn the screws until P3. In P1 and P2, the focus is to get the girls reading well first.

Also like the fact that the Canossian Sisters are still very much involved in the running of the school as well. Also like it that the school is not going for upgrading or PRIME anytime soon. Its a 1941 building and we like it that way! Not going single session anytime soon either - because of the lack of space, so they will still be am/pm sessions. Discipline in the school is strict. No catechism lessons and no Days of Obligation masses (the nuns believe that catechism is the premise of the parents).

Some of the kids from the hearing-impaired school will join the girls in the class. I also like this because of the integration of special and 'normal' (what is a normal kid anyway?? NO kid is 'normal'!) children. Cait already has this in her kindy class. No one makes a big deal out of it and thats how things should be. I like how this extends into the primary school as well.

We will miss orientation for sure because of our trip to japan in nov. But the principal says this is usually no biggie especially for kids who are now in Magdalene's Kindy. The girls who are from there usually tend to be the Ms Know-It-Alls because they are familiar with the grounds, with the Sisters and probably already know some of their classmates.

You can tell where this is going right? I do like CCPS. I think it will be right for Cait. But KH and I will have to do some talking first...