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...
Friday, July 13, 2007
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!
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!
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, July 06, 2007
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!!
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!!
Monday, July 02, 2007
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...
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...
Thursday, June 28, 2007
A school for Cait
Here we go - round three of the Primary 1 registration rigmarole. This time, for Caitlin.
Last week, KH returned the IJ OLGC form with the "I-do-not-choose-to-register-my-daughter" box ticked.
Tomorrow we will meet the principal of Canossa Convent and the Special Needs teacher from Yang Zheng Primary. So far CHIJ TP has not replied to my email.
We've narrowed it down to these three schools.
Canossa - because it's in the same compound as Magdalene's Kindy where Cait goes to school and so it's familiar turf to her. Also because they will have a Special Needs (SN) officer trained to help dyslexic children in school. Not saying that Cait is dyslexic since she has not been tested, but with a family history and with her showing some familiar signs, I thought it might be better to be safe than sorry. We also like the school environment - very home-like and friendly. And of course, it's a Catholic girls' school. However, the downside is that it seems to be 'out of the way' - not connected to a town centre like IJ Toa Payoh and public transport links to and from school is not as convenient. And while Canossa is affiliated to St Anthony's Convent Secondary - it is in Bedok and way too far from home.
CHIJ TP - Used to be our first choice. Near home, good transport links, Catholic all-girls' school etc. But with our fears/concerns over dyslexia surfacing, I wonder if it would be the right place. Same concerns re Gillian - a less stressful and academic-driven environment might be better? We also like IJ because it seems to be a more dynamic, 'happening' school in a vibrant township. Also, they are affiliated to IJ Sec - which helps. On the other hand, er, too much 'vibrant town life' may lead to 'unauthorised' after school jaunts etc. Have you seen the many IJ girls hanging out in Toa Payoh Central lately - those with the belts pulled low on their hips, pinafores pulled high up halfway past their thighs?? Granted these are the Sec Sch girls but still!!! OK, I sound like a bit of a judgemental prude don't I? :-)
Yang Zheng - like it because it's just round the corner - Cait can easily walk to and from school. And in later years, can even hop to her mama's (grandmother's) house less than 300m away should this become necessary. Yang Zheng is an old school with a lot of history - 101 years old - and perhaps the local neighbourhood/chinese-speaking environment might help improve Cait's Chinese? It also has a SN Officer but not for dyslexia but autism. But perhaps with its experience with special needs children, it may be an environment which is more sympathetic and compassionate to children facing difficulties. However, it is not a Catholic school and a mixed-gender school is untested territory for me.
Two nights ago, I tried to teach Cait to read. She seemed to pick up quite fast. She's pretty enthusiastic about it. We've 'finished' Book 1A of the Peter-and-Jane Ladybird series. She can also read half of Book 1B. We finished 1A in one night. She seems to recognise the words, reading each as opposed to memorising the structure/context (coping skills that dyslexic children employ). She can read the words I point to. But when I show her a similar word in a different book, she's stumped. So I am going to be cautious about this. We'll go through Book 1A and 1B again slowly until I am confident that she really can read the words and is not just relying on memorising those pages/whole sentence structures.
School has started and Cait has been crying two days out of the four that has gone by. She is fearful about going to school because she lost her chinese book or tore her chinese worksheet and is afraid the Chinese teacher will scold. The crying usually starts the night before.
I feel sorry for my baby and I empathise with her - the fear/and the stress of facing a scolding - never pleasant! I talked to her about being brave. She is the bravest of all my children (this is true and I tell her so!). She has a great deal of inner strength and determination - and while she may cry at night and before the bus comes, when push comes to shove, she will make herself go. I tell her it's alright - things will work out, she will be fine, to ask Mother Mary to cover her with her blue cloak when she is scared, that she can come home and I will be there to hold her tight if she feels sad.
I also volunteer to write a note to the teacher.
Now, I normally don't do this because I think if the kids do something wrong they just have to face the music (I tell Cait this too - that if she tore the paper accidentally, she just has to own up to Lao Shi and be honest, face whatever Lao Shi says as bravely as she can), BUT I also have a gut feel about this particular teacher that does not sit right with me. In my interactions with her, from the time we first met, during PT- meetings etc, when I pick Cait up from school and from the casual comments dropped by Caitlin about what happened in Chinese class, what Lao Shi says etc, I don't think this woman particularly likes children very much. Something about how she smiles - a thin, icy smile that never quite reaches the eyes. I sense a certain impatience and lack of warmth and tolerance. I suspect she can be quite stinging in her rebukes/scolding. I don't know if I am right - just a gut feel that I have.
So I wrote a note - a casual, non-committal one - to the class teacher, telling her how Cait feels and hoping that the Chinese teacher will be gentle. Incidentally for what it's worth, Cait never has an issue with her main class teacher. She is a lovely, warm woman, patient and enthusiastic with the children and you can tell this from just talking to her.
Yesterday after work, I asked Cait how was school. And she chirped, oh it was fine! Lao shi didn't scold me after all - I did what you said and told Lao Shi the truth - that I was sorry I tore the paper and Lao Shi said it was ok!
Phew.
Do not a repeat of the 'I-Don't-Want-To-Go-School' trauma that I had with Gillian!!
Here we go - round three of the Primary 1 registration rigmarole. This time, for Caitlin.
Last week, KH returned the IJ OLGC form with the "I-do-not-choose-to-register-my-daughter" box ticked.
Tomorrow we will meet the principal of Canossa Convent and the Special Needs teacher from Yang Zheng Primary. So far CHIJ TP has not replied to my email.
We've narrowed it down to these three schools.
Canossa - because it's in the same compound as Magdalene's Kindy where Cait goes to school and so it's familiar turf to her. Also because they will have a Special Needs (SN) officer trained to help dyslexic children in school. Not saying that Cait is dyslexic since she has not been tested, but with a family history and with her showing some familiar signs, I thought it might be better to be safe than sorry. We also like the school environment - very home-like and friendly. And of course, it's a Catholic girls' school. However, the downside is that it seems to be 'out of the way' - not connected to a town centre like IJ Toa Payoh and public transport links to and from school is not as convenient. And while Canossa is affiliated to St Anthony's Convent Secondary - it is in Bedok and way too far from home.
CHIJ TP - Used to be our first choice. Near home, good transport links, Catholic all-girls' school etc. But with our fears/concerns over dyslexia surfacing, I wonder if it would be the right place. Same concerns re Gillian - a less stressful and academic-driven environment might be better? We also like IJ because it seems to be a more dynamic, 'happening' school in a vibrant township. Also, they are affiliated to IJ Sec - which helps. On the other hand, er, too much 'vibrant town life' may lead to 'unauthorised' after school jaunts etc. Have you seen the many IJ girls hanging out in Toa Payoh Central lately - those with the belts pulled low on their hips, pinafores pulled high up halfway past their thighs?? Granted these are the Sec Sch girls but still!!! OK, I sound like a bit of a judgemental prude don't I? :-)
Yang Zheng - like it because it's just round the corner - Cait can easily walk to and from school. And in later years, can even hop to her mama's (grandmother's) house less than 300m away should this become necessary. Yang Zheng is an old school with a lot of history - 101 years old - and perhaps the local neighbourhood/chinese-speaking environment might help improve Cait's Chinese? It also has a SN Officer but not for dyslexia but autism. But perhaps with its experience with special needs children, it may be an environment which is more sympathetic and compassionate to children facing difficulties. However, it is not a Catholic school and a mixed-gender school is untested territory for me.
Two nights ago, I tried to teach Cait to read. She seemed to pick up quite fast. She's pretty enthusiastic about it. We've 'finished' Book 1A of the Peter-and-Jane Ladybird series. She can also read half of Book 1B. We finished 1A in one night. She seems to recognise the words, reading each as opposed to memorising the structure/context (coping skills that dyslexic children employ). She can read the words I point to. But when I show her a similar word in a different book, she's stumped. So I am going to be cautious about this. We'll go through Book 1A and 1B again slowly until I am confident that she really can read the words and is not just relying on memorising those pages/whole sentence structures.
School has started and Cait has been crying two days out of the four that has gone by. She is fearful about going to school because she lost her chinese book or tore her chinese worksheet and is afraid the Chinese teacher will scold. The crying usually starts the night before.
I feel sorry for my baby and I empathise with her - the fear/and the stress of facing a scolding - never pleasant! I talked to her about being brave. She is the bravest of all my children (this is true and I tell her so!). She has a great deal of inner strength and determination - and while she may cry at night and before the bus comes, when push comes to shove, she will make herself go. I tell her it's alright - things will work out, she will be fine, to ask Mother Mary to cover her with her blue cloak when she is scared, that she can come home and I will be there to hold her tight if she feels sad.
I also volunteer to write a note to the teacher.
Now, I normally don't do this because I think if the kids do something wrong they just have to face the music (I tell Cait this too - that if she tore the paper accidentally, she just has to own up to Lao Shi and be honest, face whatever Lao Shi says as bravely as she can), BUT I also have a gut feel about this particular teacher that does not sit right with me. In my interactions with her, from the time we first met, during PT- meetings etc, when I pick Cait up from school and from the casual comments dropped by Caitlin about what happened in Chinese class, what Lao Shi says etc, I don't think this woman particularly likes children very much. Something about how she smiles - a thin, icy smile that never quite reaches the eyes. I sense a certain impatience and lack of warmth and tolerance. I suspect she can be quite stinging in her rebukes/scolding. I don't know if I am right - just a gut feel that I have.
So I wrote a note - a casual, non-committal one - to the class teacher, telling her how Cait feels and hoping that the Chinese teacher will be gentle. Incidentally for what it's worth, Cait never has an issue with her main class teacher. She is a lovely, warm woman, patient and enthusiastic with the children and you can tell this from just talking to her.
Yesterday after work, I asked Cait how was school. And she chirped, oh it was fine! Lao shi didn't scold me after all - I did what you said and told Lao Shi the truth - that I was sorry I tore the paper and Lao Shi said it was ok!
Phew.
Do not a repeat of the 'I-Don't-Want-To-Go-School' trauma that I had with Gillian!!
Hitting a wall with Isaac
First it was Gillian who hit puberty and all the defiant angst that pre-pubes have. Now its the boy's turn.
Overnight, well over the holidays, I sense a change in Isaac. He no longer seems to be committed to doing his work, more inclined to be introspective and in a world of his own, and more secretive, more withdrawn.
A couple of weeks ago, in exasperation because he had not bathed in three days (yes you read that right! I was just as aghast when I realised it!), I hauled him to the bathroom and gave him a good scrubdown. In the process, I realised two things: one, he had underarm hair and two: his erm, sexual organs looked a lot more mature now!! I think that would be the last time I'd ever give my 10year-old son a scrubbing in the shower. I thought he looked rather embarrassed too. We've always been open with our bodies in our household - we don't think much of the kids being in the same room as we change after a shower etc, or being in the same bathroom when we shower while they use the toilet or vice versa. But now, I will be more careful about things like this.
I was just very taken aback at how fast he was maturing. I'd always pegged him as my little boy - and certainly, because he is small for his age and scrawny, it never occured to me that he was growing up on the quiet. With Gillian, who is a lot more vocal and dramatic, and bigger sized, this was clear. But not Isaac. And he is still only 10 for crying out loud!
Later on, I kept observing him and realised, from the finely etched shoulder blades, the trim shape of his arms - that he was no longer looking like a little boy. Quietly, without me noticing, he is shaping up to be a fine young man.
Geez! Where did the time go??
Emotionally too, I see changes. He is a lot more withdrawn, quieter with us. He is also, disturbingly, off his work. He had projects to finish for the school hols. I drew up a work schedule, nagged countless times, lectured etc - to no avail. I found myself on the Fri and Sat before school re-opened, at the PC at midnight frantically typing out snippets of Singapore's history for him to glue on his 'game board' - he had to create a board game out of Singapore's history before independence. (KH asked me the next morning how much of the work was mine and how much was his! Heh. I plead guilty to the parental crime of homework hijacking.)
The point is, he seems to require much much more pushing than before. He just looks like he is not interested in his work. I am worried because there is so much at stake. The Olympiad is coming up. And while he can do the work (we bought the Maths Olympiad book for him to try - at $44 a book, this is the most expensive 'assessment' book I've ever bought!), he does not seem inclined or interested to do this. We've had many 'chats' where I spelled out the pros/cons of not doing well especially since his Chinese still sucks. Nothing works. He just sits there and gives me a fish-eyed stare and punctuates his long silences with 'Um' and 'Er' - not particularly articulate as you can tell.
It has been very frustrating. And because he is so cryptic and non-communicative, it's hard to know what he is thinking or if I am getting through. His dad tried to talk to him - went for a walk round the neighbourhood one-to-one - and came back frustrated because (a) the guy didn't talk at all! and (b) refused to promise his dad that he would at least do his work. It ended with KH stalking into the bedroom and announcing that his son was spending the night outside the house! So much for father-son bonding.
I was concerned and went out to talk to him. But ended up frustrated too and keeping him outside! It stormed that night and I woke at 2am wondering if he was still outside. KH said Lolita had let him back in the house already early on and he was now sleeping on the sofa downstairs.
I just cannot figure him out. He is not openly defiant or rude. He does not talk back. He just seems very apathetic and aloof. I am worried. Don't know how to reach him. But also don't want the gap to get too wide if I let him be.
All the more also, that I am enjoying Owain and Trinity for now. Babies are so much less complicated than broody adolescents!
First it was Gillian who hit puberty and all the defiant angst that pre-pubes have. Now its the boy's turn.
Overnight, well over the holidays, I sense a change in Isaac. He no longer seems to be committed to doing his work, more inclined to be introspective and in a world of his own, and more secretive, more withdrawn.
A couple of weeks ago, in exasperation because he had not bathed in three days (yes you read that right! I was just as aghast when I realised it!), I hauled him to the bathroom and gave him a good scrubdown. In the process, I realised two things: one, he had underarm hair and two: his erm, sexual organs looked a lot more mature now!! I think that would be the last time I'd ever give my 10year-old son a scrubbing in the shower. I thought he looked rather embarrassed too. We've always been open with our bodies in our household - we don't think much of the kids being in the same room as we change after a shower etc, or being in the same bathroom when we shower while they use the toilet or vice versa. But now, I will be more careful about things like this.
I was just very taken aback at how fast he was maturing. I'd always pegged him as my little boy - and certainly, because he is small for his age and scrawny, it never occured to me that he was growing up on the quiet. With Gillian, who is a lot more vocal and dramatic, and bigger sized, this was clear. But not Isaac. And he is still only 10 for crying out loud!
Later on, I kept observing him and realised, from the finely etched shoulder blades, the trim shape of his arms - that he was no longer looking like a little boy. Quietly, without me noticing, he is shaping up to be a fine young man.
Geez! Where did the time go??
Emotionally too, I see changes. He is a lot more withdrawn, quieter with us. He is also, disturbingly, off his work. He had projects to finish for the school hols. I drew up a work schedule, nagged countless times, lectured etc - to no avail. I found myself on the Fri and Sat before school re-opened, at the PC at midnight frantically typing out snippets of Singapore's history for him to glue on his 'game board' - he had to create a board game out of Singapore's history before independence. (KH asked me the next morning how much of the work was mine and how much was his! Heh. I plead guilty to the parental crime of homework hijacking.)
The point is, he seems to require much much more pushing than before. He just looks like he is not interested in his work. I am worried because there is so much at stake. The Olympiad is coming up. And while he can do the work (we bought the Maths Olympiad book for him to try - at $44 a book, this is the most expensive 'assessment' book I've ever bought!), he does not seem inclined or interested to do this. We've had many 'chats' where I spelled out the pros/cons of not doing well especially since his Chinese still sucks. Nothing works. He just sits there and gives me a fish-eyed stare and punctuates his long silences with 'Um' and 'Er' - not particularly articulate as you can tell.
It has been very frustrating. And because he is so cryptic and non-communicative, it's hard to know what he is thinking or if I am getting through. His dad tried to talk to him - went for a walk round the neighbourhood one-to-one - and came back frustrated because (a) the guy didn't talk at all! and (b) refused to promise his dad that he would at least do his work. It ended with KH stalking into the bedroom and announcing that his son was spending the night outside the house! So much for father-son bonding.
I was concerned and went out to talk to him. But ended up frustrated too and keeping him outside! It stormed that night and I woke at 2am wondering if he was still outside. KH said Lolita had let him back in the house already early on and he was now sleeping on the sofa downstairs.
I just cannot figure him out. He is not openly defiant or rude. He does not talk back. He just seems very apathetic and aloof. I am worried. Don't know how to reach him. But also don't want the gap to get too wide if I let him be.
All the more also, that I am enjoying Owain and Trinity for now. Babies are so much less complicated than broody adolescents!
This n that
Just some quick updates.
Well the BP looks like it is inching up, but I'm still kept on the same dosage of meds. The pee test came back ok but Dr C says the test showed no major albumen in it, there could be micro leaks as was shown in the last test so he will keeep an eye on this.
The house and the reno - we are living in a layer of dust! Bags of cement, debris, ladders, pails, stacks of sand, poles of PVC pipes etc lie in my garden. The house looks like a refugee camp with mattresses in the living room, boxes and plastic bags of clothes lining the walls. The maid's room at the back has been partitioned. The new porch roof is up. The next major thing to do is to repaint the house outside and in. But it's taking far too long and I've sent the contractor a couple of SMSes asking for more men so that work can finish fast - chop-chop!! Today he promised more workers to scrape the paint off the exterior wall, paint the sealant etc. So we'll see.
The car - sigh. The Wish is not to be. The kids are very disappointed about the video screen being a thing of history. But can't be helped. Dealer came back to us to say must top up COE. KH was furious because he signed on the dotted line on the basis of the dealer's earlier promise that no additional top-up was required. So he huffily got a refund of his deposit and kissed his Wish goodbye. So we are now proud owners of a new Carens which will arrive next week. Does this sound familiar??
The new Carens actually looks not bad - I like the seats better and always felt that it was a more comfortable ride than the Wish. Its higher than the Wish - which works better for me since I tend to get carsick. Upon further exploration of the car interior, I thought it had more nifty storage than the Wish. We even have a 'secret' compartment - great for bootleg dvds haha!
In terms of fuel consumption - yeah, not as good. But since the engine is more powerful than the current Carens (2000 vs 1791), hopefully it will be more efficient than the current Carens we have.
After we signed on the dotted line two weeks ago, KH and I went for Marutama Ramen (which he grudgingly conceded was nice but pricey at $12 a bowl - I agree. From what I read, a bowl of ramen in Tokyo can be had for less than 1000yen) and a walk around Clarke Quay sans kids. Can't remember the last time we had a nice post-dinner walk like this with no kids around. It felt nice, but strangely self-conscious and awkward, as if we were no longer used to this. We marvelled at the watering holes around Clarke Quay, shaking heads primly over how Singaporeans spend on drinks and how they love the good life - heh.
Today is wedding anniversary - we registered our marriage 16 years ago today. I still remember my mother telling me in the car as dad was parking the car: you can still change your mind you know. Are you sure you want to marry him? We can turn around and drive away!!
Gee thanks mum!
How mum loved KH eh? Hee. She just wanted the best for me - all mothers do. And I'm sure I will be asking my girls this same question too when its their turn. But mothers just get antsy about their children's happiness and while we always want to do our best, elicit guarantees of happiness and success from life and fate, in truth, we can't. Just need to trust God, keep fingers crossed and wing it.
Anyway, in that instant just as mum said that, I saw him standing at the entrance to the Registry of Marriages, eagerly smiling, almost dwarfed by this giant bouquet of lilies he was carrying. There was something so touching about that sight. How could I just turn around and leave? (You can tell - I have a saviour complex when it comes to vulnerable-looking men)
So here I am, 16 years and 5 babies later, married to this guy who now has a paunch and a head of salt-n-pepper hair. Well, I can't say its been all joy, doves-cooing, bells ringing everyday kinda thing. More like a potholed bumpy road with some nice views along the way. :-)
Some celebrity was quoted recently to say something like: love is not challenging because it has an ending, but marriage is a process. Something like that. I agree. It's easy to fall in and out of love, but harder to work at the process of marriage, a lifetime of negotiation and compromise, acceptance, tolerance and companionship.
Just some quick updates.
Well the BP looks like it is inching up, but I'm still kept on the same dosage of meds. The pee test came back ok but Dr C says the test showed no major albumen in it, there could be micro leaks as was shown in the last test so he will keeep an eye on this.
The house and the reno - we are living in a layer of dust! Bags of cement, debris, ladders, pails, stacks of sand, poles of PVC pipes etc lie in my garden. The house looks like a refugee camp with mattresses in the living room, boxes and plastic bags of clothes lining the walls. The maid's room at the back has been partitioned. The new porch roof is up. The next major thing to do is to repaint the house outside and in. But it's taking far too long and I've sent the contractor a couple of SMSes asking for more men so that work can finish fast - chop-chop!! Today he promised more workers to scrape the paint off the exterior wall, paint the sealant etc. So we'll see.
The car - sigh. The Wish is not to be. The kids are very disappointed about the video screen being a thing of history. But can't be helped. Dealer came back to us to say must top up COE. KH was furious because he signed on the dotted line on the basis of the dealer's earlier promise that no additional top-up was required. So he huffily got a refund of his deposit and kissed his Wish goodbye. So we are now proud owners of a new Carens which will arrive next week. Does this sound familiar??
The new Carens actually looks not bad - I like the seats better and always felt that it was a more comfortable ride than the Wish. Its higher than the Wish - which works better for me since I tend to get carsick. Upon further exploration of the car interior, I thought it had more nifty storage than the Wish. We even have a 'secret' compartment - great for bootleg dvds haha!
In terms of fuel consumption - yeah, not as good. But since the engine is more powerful than the current Carens (2000 vs 1791), hopefully it will be more efficient than the current Carens we have.
After we signed on the dotted line two weeks ago, KH and I went for Marutama Ramen (which he grudgingly conceded was nice but pricey at $12 a bowl - I agree. From what I read, a bowl of ramen in Tokyo can be had for less than 1000yen) and a walk around Clarke Quay sans kids. Can't remember the last time we had a nice post-dinner walk like this with no kids around. It felt nice, but strangely self-conscious and awkward, as if we were no longer used to this. We marvelled at the watering holes around Clarke Quay, shaking heads primly over how Singaporeans spend on drinks and how they love the good life - heh.
Today is wedding anniversary - we registered our marriage 16 years ago today. I still remember my mother telling me in the car as dad was parking the car: you can still change your mind you know. Are you sure you want to marry him? We can turn around and drive away!!
Gee thanks mum!
How mum loved KH eh? Hee. She just wanted the best for me - all mothers do. And I'm sure I will be asking my girls this same question too when its their turn. But mothers just get antsy about their children's happiness and while we always want to do our best, elicit guarantees of happiness and success from life and fate, in truth, we can't. Just need to trust God, keep fingers crossed and wing it.
Anyway, in that instant just as mum said that, I saw him standing at the entrance to the Registry of Marriages, eagerly smiling, almost dwarfed by this giant bouquet of lilies he was carrying. There was something so touching about that sight. How could I just turn around and leave? (You can tell - I have a saviour complex when it comes to vulnerable-looking men)
So here I am, 16 years and 5 babies later, married to this guy who now has a paunch and a head of salt-n-pepper hair. Well, I can't say its been all joy, doves-cooing, bells ringing everyday kinda thing. More like a potholed bumpy road with some nice views along the way. :-)
Some celebrity was quoted recently to say something like: love is not challenging because it has an ending, but marriage is a process. Something like that. I agree. It's easy to fall in and out of love, but harder to work at the process of marriage, a lifetime of negotiation and compromise, acceptance, tolerance and companionship.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Japan akan datang
The more I read about Japan the more excited I get. I am looking forward to everything - the neon of Shinjuku, the temples of Kyoto, Disneyland, the food, the ryokan experience...
At the same time, I am apprehensive about how the kids are going to experience Japan. And I dare not think of the cost involved in bringing the brood there! While we are already saving $$ by going on some frequent flier points, there is still a lot to cover. I think Japan, for the solo or even the couple traveller, will not be expensive. But bringing a brood over can add up very quickly. For example the Japan Rail Pass is already 28,300yen per adult (and yes, Gillian is counted as an adult!) so that makes it about S$360 each. Kids below 6 go free. Kids 6 to 12 are half price. So I will have to spend about $1500 just on the Rail Pass alone. Of course if we don't go to Kyoto, things might be significantly cheaper since we won't need the rail pass then. But everyone I've asked say must go to Kyoto. My Japanophile colleagues, those who live/work there, all say that Kyoto is not to be missed. And if I am going there for koyo, then Kyoto is the best place to see autumn in her glory.
I think we intend to stay in hostels for the most part, with perhaps a ryokan experience in Hakone. So we will all be in ONE room sleeping on tatami mats! KH sniffed at this since he had this experience in Kobe already many years ago, but I think its fun and a whole different experience from the usual hotels. I am also looking forward to the baths - hee!
I think food need not be a problem - kaiten sushi (conveyor belt sushi!), ramen shops, bento boxes in convenient stores and department stores (at closing time!) and okonomiyaki restaurants all mean food that is not expensive. The kids are already being exposed and trying different types of Japanese food so it won't be a culture shock.
I think I am more worried about meltdowns caused by tiredness - and travelling in Japan means lots of walking. Maybe its a good idea to 'train' up the kids by letting them carry backpacks individually for long walks around the neighbourhood now. Inevitably though, I'm sure we will have the odd meltdown or two. I will also get my colleague to write simple name tags in Japanese that say: "my name is so-and-so. I'm lost! Please call my daddy at xxxxxxx." Each kid will get one. And yes, must buy new socks! There will be plenty of times when we will need to take our shoes off and let me say that I don't want to embarrass myself by showing off lots of hole-y socks!
We will have about 9 days in Japan. I am still split about whether to head for Kyoto or stay put in Tokyo but visit the outlying countryside eg Kamakura, Nikko, Hakone etc. The SIL also poured cold water on the period that we are visiting, saying that all the autumn leaves have fallen, it will be wet and cold (and altogether miserable!). I have asked this question online in Japanese forums and so far the information I have is reassuring - the second half of Nov is the best time for koyo in Kyoto and in Tokyo! So hopefully they will be right and she's wrong! Yes it will be cold and wet but I would not expect otherwise.
Tentatively the itinerary is this:
Day 1 Fly to Tokyo. KH and his team will arrive about 5hours before me. So they will head in to the hostel first. By the time I reach the hostel with the girls it should be around 7.30pm already!
Day 2 Sensoji Temple in Asakusa, then take ferry down the Sumida-gawa to Odaiba. Visit the Miraikan (the Museum of Emerging Sciences and Innovation), the ferris wheel at Palette Town etc. A mix of old and new. Then take the 'monorail' back to the Yamamote line and back to the hostel.
Day 3 Disneyland!
Day 4 DisneySea!
Day 5 Hop on shinkansen to Kyoto bright and early. Spend day walking around the old Higashiyama district. If kids not too tired, we could walk the north-eastern end of Kyoto, the Philosopher's Path and the Kinkakuji Temple.
Day 6 Maybe take the train down to Osaka, to the aquarium and/or Universal Studios.
Day 7 Leave Kyoto for either the Hakone circuit. Which means staying overnight in the ryokan in the Hakone area, or straight back to Tokyo.
Day 8 If we returned to Tokyo last night, then we would visit the Ghibli Museum today. We could also return to Tokyo this morning, stuff the backpacks into the left luggage lockers and then head for Ghibli if kids not too shacked. Actually I think I would be more shacked!
Day 9 Morning at Meiji-jingu shrine, Harajuku and Omotesando people-watching and shopping. Afternoon to the airport for our flight back.
Day 10 Arrive SG early hours of the morning.
The non-Kyoto alternative would mean we go to Kamakura for a day and Hakone for two days.
By Aug I have to start making reservations for the hostel, the rail pass, the Ghibli museum tickets etc. I'm SO excited! Now must save more money, and sell 'excitement' to the family particularly KH who is dragging his feet. I will post a travel blog on Japan when its all over.
The more I read about Japan the more excited I get. I am looking forward to everything - the neon of Shinjuku, the temples of Kyoto, Disneyland, the food, the ryokan experience...
At the same time, I am apprehensive about how the kids are going to experience Japan. And I dare not think of the cost involved in bringing the brood there! While we are already saving $$ by going on some frequent flier points, there is still a lot to cover. I think Japan, for the solo or even the couple traveller, will not be expensive. But bringing a brood over can add up very quickly. For example the Japan Rail Pass is already 28,300yen per adult (and yes, Gillian is counted as an adult!) so that makes it about S$360 each. Kids below 6 go free. Kids 6 to 12 are half price. So I will have to spend about $1500 just on the Rail Pass alone. Of course if we don't go to Kyoto, things might be significantly cheaper since we won't need the rail pass then. But everyone I've asked say must go to Kyoto. My Japanophile colleagues, those who live/work there, all say that Kyoto is not to be missed. And if I am going there for koyo, then Kyoto is the best place to see autumn in her glory.
I think we intend to stay in hostels for the most part, with perhaps a ryokan experience in Hakone. So we will all be in ONE room sleeping on tatami mats! KH sniffed at this since he had this experience in Kobe already many years ago, but I think its fun and a whole different experience from the usual hotels. I am also looking forward to the baths - hee!
I think food need not be a problem - kaiten sushi (conveyor belt sushi!), ramen shops, bento boxes in convenient stores and department stores (at closing time!) and okonomiyaki restaurants all mean food that is not expensive. The kids are already being exposed and trying different types of Japanese food so it won't be a culture shock.
I think I am more worried about meltdowns caused by tiredness - and travelling in Japan means lots of walking. Maybe its a good idea to 'train' up the kids by letting them carry backpacks individually for long walks around the neighbourhood now. Inevitably though, I'm sure we will have the odd meltdown or two. I will also get my colleague to write simple name tags in Japanese that say: "my name is so-and-so. I'm lost! Please call my daddy at xxxxxxx." Each kid will get one. And yes, must buy new socks! There will be plenty of times when we will need to take our shoes off and let me say that I don't want to embarrass myself by showing off lots of hole-y socks!
We will have about 9 days in Japan. I am still split about whether to head for Kyoto or stay put in Tokyo but visit the outlying countryside eg Kamakura, Nikko, Hakone etc. The SIL also poured cold water on the period that we are visiting, saying that all the autumn leaves have fallen, it will be wet and cold (and altogether miserable!). I have asked this question online in Japanese forums and so far the information I have is reassuring - the second half of Nov is the best time for koyo in Kyoto and in Tokyo! So hopefully they will be right and she's wrong! Yes it will be cold and wet but I would not expect otherwise.
Tentatively the itinerary is this:
Day 1 Fly to Tokyo. KH and his team will arrive about 5hours before me. So they will head in to the hostel first. By the time I reach the hostel with the girls it should be around 7.30pm already!
Day 2 Sensoji Temple in Asakusa, then take ferry down the Sumida-gawa to Odaiba. Visit the Miraikan (the Museum of Emerging Sciences and Innovation), the ferris wheel at Palette Town etc. A mix of old and new. Then take the 'monorail' back to the Yamamote line and back to the hostel.
Day 3 Disneyland!
Day 4 DisneySea!
Day 5 Hop on shinkansen to Kyoto bright and early. Spend day walking around the old Higashiyama district. If kids not too tired, we could walk the north-eastern end of Kyoto, the Philosopher's Path and the Kinkakuji Temple.
Day 6 Maybe take the train down to Osaka, to the aquarium and/or Universal Studios.
Day 7 Leave Kyoto for either the Hakone circuit. Which means staying overnight in the ryokan in the Hakone area, or straight back to Tokyo.
Day 8 If we returned to Tokyo last night, then we would visit the Ghibli Museum today. We could also return to Tokyo this morning, stuff the backpacks into the left luggage lockers and then head for Ghibli if kids not too shacked. Actually I think I would be more shacked!
Day 9 Morning at Meiji-jingu shrine, Harajuku and Omotesando people-watching and shopping. Afternoon to the airport for our flight back.
Day 10 Arrive SG early hours of the morning.
The non-Kyoto alternative would mean we go to Kamakura for a day and Hakone for two days.
By Aug I have to start making reservations for the hostel, the rail pass, the Ghibli museum tickets etc. I'm SO excited! Now must save more money, and sell 'excitement' to the family particularly KH who is dragging his feet. I will post a travel blog on Japan when its all over.
Red flags
Went for my appointment at SGH for my blood pressure. I have been on meds for sometime already and have been seeing Dr C at SGH for about a year. All this time my BP has been kept pretty stable thanks to the meds I am taking (except for the times when I forgot and then everything went haywire!). And when at the clinic, BP also measured good levels - usually 120/80 or thereabouts. Dr C was happy enough with my progress that he lengthened the time in between visits - from three monthly intervals to six.
But this time, things did not go so well. The BP tested showed an increase - 155/80. He tested it twice just to be sure. I mentioned that once in a while, I did have scores like that at home - 150/100 - but those were recorded usually in the evenings and I assumed, were probably just due to fatigue. But Dr C was not happy. He scrolled through my records again and zeroed in on my urine test results from a year back. Said that although the renal ultrasound showed no abnormality, the pee had trace amounts of protein, trace amounts of white blood cells (which indicate infection, but I am asymptomatic).
So he wanted to test the pee again. Geez. Now I have to return on Thurs with pee collected. And if the results showed positive again, he would change my meds and add one more. Yikes. Not looking forward to that! Tried to dissuade him, saying that it was only 'trace' amounts so er, no big deal right? Tried to say that this was 'normal' because I always get the 'trace' results every time I go for a medical. But all these arguments cut no ice with him - he said ANY amount of protein in the urine is not normal. I've just got to go and re-test the pee.
To make myself feel better (and you can tell I am in some denial here), I headed for Central after that and stuffed myself with slurpilicious ramen from Marutama Ramen (thanks to Cory's recommendation on her blog). The slice of pork was of the melt-in-your-mouth variety, the braised egg nicely half-done in the middle and the chicken-based stock was a lovely bright yellow, generous with the smell of chick and with a nice sheen of invitingly twinkly oil on the surface. Very Yum. Very. Since I am going back to SGH to see the doc on Thursday, I think I will pop in to Marutama again.
Went for my appointment at SGH for my blood pressure. I have been on meds for sometime already and have been seeing Dr C at SGH for about a year. All this time my BP has been kept pretty stable thanks to the meds I am taking (except for the times when I forgot and then everything went haywire!). And when at the clinic, BP also measured good levels - usually 120/80 or thereabouts. Dr C was happy enough with my progress that he lengthened the time in between visits - from three monthly intervals to six.
But this time, things did not go so well. The BP tested showed an increase - 155/80. He tested it twice just to be sure. I mentioned that once in a while, I did have scores like that at home - 150/100 - but those were recorded usually in the evenings and I assumed, were probably just due to fatigue. But Dr C was not happy. He scrolled through my records again and zeroed in on my urine test results from a year back. Said that although the renal ultrasound showed no abnormality, the pee had trace amounts of protein, trace amounts of white blood cells (which indicate infection, but I am asymptomatic).
So he wanted to test the pee again. Geez. Now I have to return on Thurs with pee collected. And if the results showed positive again, he would change my meds and add one more. Yikes. Not looking forward to that! Tried to dissuade him, saying that it was only 'trace' amounts so er, no big deal right? Tried to say that this was 'normal' because I always get the 'trace' results every time I go for a medical. But all these arguments cut no ice with him - he said ANY amount of protein in the urine is not normal. I've just got to go and re-test the pee.
To make myself feel better (and you can tell I am in some denial here), I headed for Central after that and stuffed myself with slurpilicious ramen from Marutama Ramen (thanks to Cory's recommendation on her blog). The slice of pork was of the melt-in-your-mouth variety, the braised egg nicely half-done in the middle and the chicken-based stock was a lovely bright yellow, generous with the smell of chick and with a nice sheen of invitingly twinkly oil on the surface. Very Yum. Very. Since I am going back to SGH to see the doc on Thursday, I think I will pop in to Marutama again.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Two ends of the rainbow
Owain had a quick screening/test last week. I was fascinated by his Rush Hour progress - (by the way, he is now halfway through the expert level of the last pack. Can imagine the Rush Hour withdrawal symptoms when the game finally ends) and wanted to know where he stood vis a vis other children. To say that I suspected my son of being gifted makes me sound horribly smug and boastful. So lets just say that I thought he was a bit 'unusual' for his age. I felt that it was good to know for sure if he was a 'special' child in some sense - if he was, then we could do something about it (I don't want any 'gift' to be killed off by rote learning in schools) and he was not, then we can also move on.
I tried surfing and emailing a few agencies here but did not get very far, apart from finding out that MENSA does not test for children younger than 10, and that the standard psych evaluation in psych clinics cost about $700 and up (so that rules it out!). Then I came across Morris Allen who runs the Morris Allen Study Centres. He is apparently the Chairman of the Singapore Association for Gifted Children.
I left an email for him and he was kind enough to call me back. We agreed to meet. He would have 'a chat' with Owain and make some observations. He also wanted to meet Cait, believing from his experience, that siblings generally tended to share similar IQ levels. I tried telling him about how Gillian had scored slightly below the 'normal' range and he pooh-poohed me, saying that children frequently under-performed on tests. So okay, won't argue with that, we'll just have a go and see.
The upshot was that we (Cait, Owain and I) met with him and the kids were 'tested' or 'screened'. The paper comprised a few sections, each focusing on different aspects eg classification, differentiation, sequencing etc. I thought Caitlin's paper looked more complex and required some thought and careful observation. She didn't give much thought and gave her answers quickly. I suspect a lot of the time, she was just taking a guess rather than actively thinking about it. Owain looked bored when Cait was doing the 'test' with Morris. He fidgeted about, asked for nen-nen etc. When it came to his turn, he frowned through most of the paper. Unlike Cait, his brow was furrowed and he took time to think about it.
One of his questions in sequencing was about the life cycle of a frog - there were several pictures, one of an adult frog, one of tadpoles, eggs and a younger frog - Owain had to indicate which picture was the 'start' of the story. He picked the picture of the adult frog. You think he's right or wrong? As I commented to Morris: this is the classic question - which came first? The chicken or the egg? :-)
Anyway, the upshot of all this is that Cait scored 14%. Morris noted that she showed signs of reversals and that she did not display the same concentration/focus/attention that her brother did. I asked if there was a possibility that she was dyslexic like her sister. He dismissed it saying that he did not believe in dyslexia, believing that it was more often the product of poor teaching. I know what he is saying but I also disagree that dyslexia is not a 'real' condition. I believe it is. But I also believe that teaching methods play a large part. Morris felt that most of us were visual learners but are not taught that way - we are taught in an auditory manner. Eg reciting aloud to learn words for spelling as opposed to visually breaking up the words into forms and shapes that are easily recognisable.
I came away with mixed feelings. Cait is not slow. I believe she is very bright. She learns fast, catches on fast. Verbally, her skills are streets ahead of her siblings at that age. And she has a big advantage going for her. As KH said, when I shared the possibility that she might be slightly dyslexic, she had one thing different from Gillian: a great deal of will-power. She is one heck of a determined child. As fearful as she was about the water, about learning swimming, she never let it stop her. As much as she used to dislike school (and she still asks from time to time, if she had to go to school 'today'), she would still steel herself to go.
So I take Cait's results with some optimism. I was also relieved: the fact that someone else spotted this propensity to reversals told me that my gut feeling was right. I had seen this, but typically, shoved it to the back of my mind (basically in denial), did not want to believe that I had another Gillian on my hands, preferring to believe that I was just paranoid since Gillian's experiences. Now that someone else has corroborated with what I observed, I can't shut this down anymore. She might need some help and a lot of patience, but I think she does have a lot going for her already and that will help her a great deal.
As for my curly-haired boy, well, he scored about 78%, according to Morris, placing him in the top 20% of the general population's IQ. Morris believes he is very bright and he showed a very high level of concentration/focus. He says that Owain should come back when he was five or six for a test again. At three, he is really very young and it is hard to test for this with any certainty at this age. However, he believes that Owain needs to be exposed to a wide variety of activities and concepts and the answer to this is a good Montessori environment. My problem is that good Montessori environments cost lots of moolah...
So there you have it - two different children, two different sets of 'issues' and challenges. I think we're going to have our work cut out for us again. sigh.
Friday, June 08, 2007
...and love stories and love letters
While in the process of clearing stuff, I came across a pink file packed with yellowing foolscap paper. Handwritten, the black and blue inks were fading already.
They were my stories. The short stories that I had written in my teens. Good Lord, I read them and cringed. My hair stood. Geez, they were BAD!!! Cheesy, corny, hair-raisingly, goosebumply BAD!!! All about how boy meets girl (usually me!) - ugh, teen romances in the line of Sweet Valley High!! Yikes!
I stopped reading after one or two horrified glimpses of some passages. I could not continue. They ought to be trashed. And fast! The world would be far safer without this kind of drivel floating around!
They ought to be stuffed into the trash pronto. But did I? Nope. I stuffed them quickly back into the pink folder and zipped it shut. Why? After all, I would not read these again - not even under pain of torture. So why keep them? Did I want my children to read them after I died? No, then they would know their mother was a closet Mills&Boon fan who writes delusional soapy trash! So why the heck am I taking up valuable shelf space (and believe me, shelf/storage space is premium space in Riang!) by keeping them?
I guess it's hard to throw away that part of the past. And these stories, like my many volumes of diary, contain a borehole in the well of memories I have of life back then. Yes they are sappy - but then, so was I. Yes, wishful thinking, lots of fantasy - but that was how I was back then too - lots of daydreaming and make-believe. When you're not the belle du jour, the class clown, the rich girl, the girl with the cute boyfriend, then fantasy is always a nice escape. So those stories which are about the girl who secretly has a crush on the cute guy, but who doesn't stand a chance because she wears coke-bottle glasses and is short and pudgy, goes through a makeover, comes out a confident swan and leaves hearts broken. Sheer fantasy. Frivolous fiction. Self-indulgent. Look closer and you'll see the girl I was, the sort of girl I wished I could be etc.
It was uncomfortable for me to read those words because I could not stand to see the girl I was. It was a case of "Eew! That can't be me!" How could I have been so irritatingly needy, so emotionally exhausting, so self-indulgent (ok, that last bit still holds true because... behold the blog!)!
Uncomfortable to read now, but maybe one day, I will. Then I may be more ready to torch them or trash them for good.
I also found, in the same stack, my old 'O' level exam question papers! Interestingly, I had chosen Reproduction in Human & Social Bio as one of the essays to write. Looking at those, I can only shake my head and try to recall my grades and be thankful my time for exams is over. Also found Lit notes from my first three months in VJC - class 85A13. Ah great class. Fun times. Great bunch of people. Wish I never left. Wonder where they are now.
And then I found letters that I had written to KH while he was on a year-long working trip at sea. No email then. We lived through snail mail. And believe me, it was snail mail that kept our relationship going. Today email has taken the romance out of this. Replies can be so instantaneous. None of the agony of waiting, none of the constant re-reading of worn letters in bed at night, none of the peering at the letterbox daily. There's something to be said, even today, as I fingered the bundles of letters with stamps from countries all over the world, about letter-writing. Love letters written in the e-medium seem so cold. One easy press of the 'delete' button and they're gone.
With handwritten letters, you can feel the paper, hold it up and inhale deeply of the smell of a ship's cabin, imagine a rocky sea, the faint smell of diesel and salt, the smudge of a beloved fingerprint. And when photographs fall out of the envelope (as opposed to a click and open attachment), you can touch the glossiness, hold the thin papers to you, keep them under your pillow at night. And years later, you could still find them bundled up with rubber bands and string, half-forgotten but ready for re-reading and re-telling.
KH had sailed everywhere then - Japan, across the Pacific, Hawaii, the US coast, and back. On previous trips he went through the Panama Canal, down to Cuba, the eastern seaboard of the US, across the atlantic, in the Mediterranean, the Suez Canal, Africa, Goa, Indonesia, Australia, New Zealand and so on. And during the long months apart, we would write. And write.
Those letters, telexes and faxes, I would never throw away. They are sappy yes. Eye-rollingly sappy as I read them today. But I could never throw them away. His letters are full of grammatical errors, spelling errors and so on but through them I saw port life in Kobe, re-fuelling in Alaska (was it?), saw Disneyland LA for the first time. I travelled through his eyes. And I have to say, for someone who HATES writing, the guy wrote PAGES! hee...
And when we needed to talk urgently, I would telex him on the ship (very costly in those days) from the local post office here. And he would call me from wherever he was. So we have had phone calls in phone booths in unknown cities and ports at odd ungodly hours of the day (due to the time differences) with him 'tonking' in coin after coin, operator's impersonal tones cutting through our conversation and sometimes in the frantic goodbyes, getting cut off before we were ready.
So we have his letters to me and mine to him. It would be interesting to read them in sequence one day when we're old and grey! That is, if they have not all faded or devoured by bugs and dust by then.
While in the process of clearing stuff, I came across a pink file packed with yellowing foolscap paper. Handwritten, the black and blue inks were fading already.
They were my stories. The short stories that I had written in my teens. Good Lord, I read them and cringed. My hair stood. Geez, they were BAD!!! Cheesy, corny, hair-raisingly, goosebumply BAD!!! All about how boy meets girl (usually me!) - ugh, teen romances in the line of Sweet Valley High!! Yikes!
I stopped reading after one or two horrified glimpses of some passages. I could not continue. They ought to be trashed. And fast! The world would be far safer without this kind of drivel floating around!
They ought to be stuffed into the trash pronto. But did I? Nope. I stuffed them quickly back into the pink folder and zipped it shut. Why? After all, I would not read these again - not even under pain of torture. So why keep them? Did I want my children to read them after I died? No, then they would know their mother was a closet Mills&Boon fan who writes delusional soapy trash! So why the heck am I taking up valuable shelf space (and believe me, shelf/storage space is premium space in Riang!) by keeping them?
I guess it's hard to throw away that part of the past. And these stories, like my many volumes of diary, contain a borehole in the well of memories I have of life back then. Yes they are sappy - but then, so was I. Yes, wishful thinking, lots of fantasy - but that was how I was back then too - lots of daydreaming and make-believe. When you're not the belle du jour, the class clown, the rich girl, the girl with the cute boyfriend, then fantasy is always a nice escape. So those stories which are about the girl who secretly has a crush on the cute guy, but who doesn't stand a chance because she wears coke-bottle glasses and is short and pudgy, goes through a makeover, comes out a confident swan and leaves hearts broken. Sheer fantasy. Frivolous fiction. Self-indulgent. Look closer and you'll see the girl I was, the sort of girl I wished I could be etc.
It was uncomfortable for me to read those words because I could not stand to see the girl I was. It was a case of "Eew! That can't be me!" How could I have been so irritatingly needy, so emotionally exhausting, so self-indulgent (ok, that last bit still holds true because... behold the blog!)!
Uncomfortable to read now, but maybe one day, I will. Then I may be more ready to torch them or trash them for good.
I also found, in the same stack, my old 'O' level exam question papers! Interestingly, I had chosen Reproduction in Human & Social Bio as one of the essays to write. Looking at those, I can only shake my head and try to recall my grades and be thankful my time for exams is over. Also found Lit notes from my first three months in VJC - class 85A13. Ah great class. Fun times. Great bunch of people. Wish I never left. Wonder where they are now.
And then I found letters that I had written to KH while he was on a year-long working trip at sea. No email then. We lived through snail mail. And believe me, it was snail mail that kept our relationship going. Today email has taken the romance out of this. Replies can be so instantaneous. None of the agony of waiting, none of the constant re-reading of worn letters in bed at night, none of the peering at the letterbox daily. There's something to be said, even today, as I fingered the bundles of letters with stamps from countries all over the world, about letter-writing. Love letters written in the e-medium seem so cold. One easy press of the 'delete' button and they're gone.
With handwritten letters, you can feel the paper, hold it up and inhale deeply of the smell of a ship's cabin, imagine a rocky sea, the faint smell of diesel and salt, the smudge of a beloved fingerprint. And when photographs fall out of the envelope (as opposed to a click and open attachment), you can touch the glossiness, hold the thin papers to you, keep them under your pillow at night. And years later, you could still find them bundled up with rubber bands and string, half-forgotten but ready for re-reading and re-telling.
KH had sailed everywhere then - Japan, across the Pacific, Hawaii, the US coast, and back. On previous trips he went through the Panama Canal, down to Cuba, the eastern seaboard of the US, across the atlantic, in the Mediterranean, the Suez Canal, Africa, Goa, Indonesia, Australia, New Zealand and so on. And during the long months apart, we would write. And write.
Those letters, telexes and faxes, I would never throw away. They are sappy yes. Eye-rollingly sappy as I read them today. But I could never throw them away. His letters are full of grammatical errors, spelling errors and so on but through them I saw port life in Kobe, re-fuelling in Alaska (was it?), saw Disneyland LA for the first time. I travelled through his eyes. And I have to say, for someone who HATES writing, the guy wrote PAGES! hee...
And when we needed to talk urgently, I would telex him on the ship (very costly in those days) from the local post office here. And he would call me from wherever he was. So we have had phone calls in phone booths in unknown cities and ports at odd ungodly hours of the day (due to the time differences) with him 'tonking' in coin after coin, operator's impersonal tones cutting through our conversation and sometimes in the frantic goodbyes, getting cut off before we were ready.
So we have his letters to me and mine to him. It would be interesting to read them in sequence one day when we're old and grey! That is, if they have not all faded or devoured by bugs and dust by then.
Socks...
The workers (ok, ONE worker) started yesterday on the main roof of the house. It was a hot windless day with deep blue skies and nary a cloud on the horizon. I felt sorry for the lone man up on the roof - it must have been blazing hot! Even we in the house, fans going on full blast, still wilted - what more the poor guy! All invitations to come in for a spell, drink some ice water etc were turned down politely with a smile.
To get the back room ready, I had to do some serious clearing. Found lots of bags full of old socks - KH's straggly grey office numbers, colourful pink, red and yellow socks with Pooh on the ankle, pom-poms on the rear. If you lined the colourful socks up from smallest to biggest, you could tell the story of my children's lives. This one worn by Gillian when she was in Australia, that one worn by Isaac as a baby. The nice white ones with frills worn only once by Gillian as flower girl at my sister's wedding. Those tiny red sneakers were hand-me-downs from Isaac, to Owain, Cait and so on.
The cotton on the majority had snagged into little balls, the elastic was loose and threads were sticking out everywhere. I threw away the bulk of these - the grotty-looking sports socks yellowed with age especially! But could not bring myself to throw away a bunch of the children's socks. I tell myself it's because they will need this when they go to Japan in November. But who am I kidding. It's all about me - not being able to throw away these little booties and socks because of sheer sentimentality. I'll probably end up buying new socks for the lot of them. And these old ones are likely to go into a bag, stuffed in a storeroom I guess will never see light again until its time for one more clearing deep into the future.
Will I throw them away next time?
Nahhh...
The workers (ok, ONE worker) started yesterday on the main roof of the house. It was a hot windless day with deep blue skies and nary a cloud on the horizon. I felt sorry for the lone man up on the roof - it must have been blazing hot! Even we in the house, fans going on full blast, still wilted - what more the poor guy! All invitations to come in for a spell, drink some ice water etc were turned down politely with a smile.
To get the back room ready, I had to do some serious clearing. Found lots of bags full of old socks - KH's straggly grey office numbers, colourful pink, red and yellow socks with Pooh on the ankle, pom-poms on the rear. If you lined the colourful socks up from smallest to biggest, you could tell the story of my children's lives. This one worn by Gillian when she was in Australia, that one worn by Isaac as a baby. The nice white ones with frills worn only once by Gillian as flower girl at my sister's wedding. Those tiny red sneakers were hand-me-downs from Isaac, to Owain, Cait and so on.
The cotton on the majority had snagged into little balls, the elastic was loose and threads were sticking out everywhere. I threw away the bulk of these - the grotty-looking sports socks yellowed with age especially! But could not bring myself to throw away a bunch of the children's socks. I tell myself it's because they will need this when they go to Japan in November. But who am I kidding. It's all about me - not being able to throw away these little booties and socks because of sheer sentimentality. I'll probably end up buying new socks for the lot of them. And these old ones are likely to go into a bag, stuffed in a storeroom I guess will never see light again until its time for one more clearing deep into the future.
Will I throw them away next time?
Nahhh...
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Early morning smiles
This morning, something happened in bed that reminded me why I enjoyed sleeping with my babies in the same bed.
Baby Trinity woke up, turned towards me. Our faces inches apart, her eyes opened and she gave me a big smile. A grin of pure joy - like she was so happy to find me there next to her in the morning. Why? It surely would not be a surprise to her to find me next to her right? We were together every night. Surely she would be used to me being there, take my presence for granted already? But no, that smile was one of sheer delight. Seeing a baby wake up and smile like that makes me wonder why we all can't wake up and view the day ahead with equal delight and optimism.
My daughter has such a beautiful smile that lights up every corner of her face. There is no hesitancy, no shyness in her smile. It is a smile that gives it all. The outer corners of her eyes crinkle sleepily upwards, all her teeth can be seen - tiny white buds - I can see two tiny white smudges against her pink gums (she is teething again). Her hair, thin and sparse, are lit bronze in the morning light. And yes, she has that whiff of sleepy baby smell.
Mornings like this remind me why it's worthwhile. Worth all the kicking, squeezing, knee in the back, hogging of covers and occasional sprained neck.
Poor parents who put their kids in cots in another room. They don't know what moments of pure joy they can be missing.
This morning, something happened in bed that reminded me why I enjoyed sleeping with my babies in the same bed.
Baby Trinity woke up, turned towards me. Our faces inches apart, her eyes opened and she gave me a big smile. A grin of pure joy - like she was so happy to find me there next to her in the morning. Why? It surely would not be a surprise to her to find me next to her right? We were together every night. Surely she would be used to me being there, take my presence for granted already? But no, that smile was one of sheer delight. Seeing a baby wake up and smile like that makes me wonder why we all can't wake up and view the day ahead with equal delight and optimism.
My daughter has such a beautiful smile that lights up every corner of her face. There is no hesitancy, no shyness in her smile. It is a smile that gives it all. The outer corners of her eyes crinkle sleepily upwards, all her teeth can be seen - tiny white buds - I can see two tiny white smudges against her pink gums (she is teething again). Her hair, thin and sparse, are lit bronze in the morning light. And yes, she has that whiff of sleepy baby smell.
Mornings like this remind me why it's worthwhile. Worth all the kicking, squeezing, knee in the back, hogging of covers and occasional sprained neck.
Poor parents who put their kids in cots in another room. They don't know what moments of pure joy they can be missing.
Musing about driving
Couple of moms in the AP group are talking about carseats, how safe it is to be belted up, every child should be in the carseat etc. The issue of ILs taking a ride in the car, squeezing in without seat belts etc also came up. One mother fretted about ILs coming into the car for road-trips up north and another maintained she would not give ILs a ride but take a taxi instead. If I tried that often enough, I think one day KH would call my bluff and say: ok lor, you take the taxi lah! Wah, then you'd see fireworks!!
But I digress. I sense (and my gut feel is seldom off) that a lot of this is really due to IL politics more than safety issues. :-)
I can understand the rationale behind belting up. I even agree with it. But the practicalities/ politics of life still apply right?
In my car, we have one baby seat, one booster seat, five children and two adults. I have to confess here that I am one of those 'irresponsible parents' because Trinity travels in my lap. We just don't have space for another carseat. We have a 7-seater MPV, yes. But even then, it is a tight squeeze for all of us. On days when the helper comes along, eg on Sundays when we go to church for mass, you should see the squeeze in the middle row.
But isn't it dangerous? I can hear the nay-sayers gasp. Yes it is. Am I putting my baby's life at risk? Others will huff. Yes I am. Am I being irresponsible? Yes to that too. Did I not see the extremely touching videos on YouTube of toddlers who died because they were not belted up or belted up but with the wrong 'type' of seatbelt? Yes I did and I have to confess I even sniffled at some parts.
I plead 'guilty' to all the charges of irresponsibility. But short of striking Big Sweep and buying a bigger car or a van, I don't quite have a choice in this. Even riding in a taxi isn't safe. Even riding in a bus isn't safe. Nor is a train. Those, of course, are not good excuses for not belting up. But what I am saying is, there are times when we just have to live with the constraints and practicalities of the situation. And fatalistic though this may sound, I believe that do what you will, when death chooses to claim you, it will. Nothing about it being unfair, about not taking responsibility, about poor timing, about assigning blame etc. Death just is. Tragic though it can be at times, it will happen.
So no matter how many vitamins we pop, how many miles we run, how many mammograms we go for, how carefully we count the numbers of french fries our children eat, how many times we look over our shoulder, no matter how faithfully we belt up, how many times we look for a child running ahead of us in a crowded place, I hate to say it but s**t still happens. Children still drown in a crowded pool, toddlers still get kidnapped off a beach somewhere, babies get flung out of cars, healthy young men still die in their sleep, motorcyclists still die on the road when idiotic and callous drivers hit them, run over them and drive off (there are unmentionable words for people like that but this is not the time or place). S**t happens. And the rest of us just got to deal with it, live with it, carry on, wondering why and wondering how we can make the world safer for our babies and ourselves. When the underlying fact is, we really can't. We just do the best we can with what we know, with the resources we have.
I'm rambling.
Some of my best childhood memories are of me standing in the backseat of my grandad's old car, windows down, wind whipping in, trees blurring past as we zip through the kampong-lined, veggie field laden back roads of old Tampines to Changi beach. The sternest warning was to keep our hands in the car and not caress the breeze by waggling it out of the window - tempting though it was. And of course stern hisses to: "Shh be quiet! Your grandad's driving! Let him concentrate!" (but of course to my grandma, having the car radio on at full blast would not affect grandad's concentration in the least!)
KH remembers those days when his dad used to pack him and his four siblings into a car and head back to Malaysia on the dusty trunk roads. Zooming back, children tightly squashed against each other, sweaty and hot in a Datsun 120Y. Those were the days of tailgating, big trucks/lorries lumbering on the trunk roads, daredevil overtaking on single-lane carriage ways. Not saying that this was safe or good. It just was done that way.
Life had fewer rules back then. But somehow, it seemed happier.
For now though, my tiny MPV will just hold who or what it can- belt or not belt, carseat or no, and if this means the ILs take a ride elsewhere, or can't come with us on road trips up north, well, I can't say I am displeased. Now can I? ;-)
Couple of moms in the AP group are talking about carseats, how safe it is to be belted up, every child should be in the carseat etc. The issue of ILs taking a ride in the car, squeezing in without seat belts etc also came up. One mother fretted about ILs coming into the car for road-trips up north and another maintained she would not give ILs a ride but take a taxi instead. If I tried that often enough, I think one day KH would call my bluff and say: ok lor, you take the taxi lah! Wah, then you'd see fireworks!!
But I digress. I sense (and my gut feel is seldom off) that a lot of this is really due to IL politics more than safety issues. :-)
I can understand the rationale behind belting up. I even agree with it. But the practicalities/ politics of life still apply right?
In my car, we have one baby seat, one booster seat, five children and two adults. I have to confess here that I am one of those 'irresponsible parents' because Trinity travels in my lap. We just don't have space for another carseat. We have a 7-seater MPV, yes. But even then, it is a tight squeeze for all of us. On days when the helper comes along, eg on Sundays when we go to church for mass, you should see the squeeze in the middle row.
But isn't it dangerous? I can hear the nay-sayers gasp. Yes it is. Am I putting my baby's life at risk? Others will huff. Yes I am. Am I being irresponsible? Yes to that too. Did I not see the extremely touching videos on YouTube of toddlers who died because they were not belted up or belted up but with the wrong 'type' of seatbelt? Yes I did and I have to confess I even sniffled at some parts.
I plead 'guilty' to all the charges of irresponsibility. But short of striking Big Sweep and buying a bigger car or a van, I don't quite have a choice in this. Even riding in a taxi isn't safe. Even riding in a bus isn't safe. Nor is a train. Those, of course, are not good excuses for not belting up. But what I am saying is, there are times when we just have to live with the constraints and practicalities of the situation. And fatalistic though this may sound, I believe that do what you will, when death chooses to claim you, it will. Nothing about it being unfair, about not taking responsibility, about poor timing, about assigning blame etc. Death just is. Tragic though it can be at times, it will happen.
So no matter how many vitamins we pop, how many miles we run, how many mammograms we go for, how carefully we count the numbers of french fries our children eat, how many times we look over our shoulder, no matter how faithfully we belt up, how many times we look for a child running ahead of us in a crowded place, I hate to say it but s**t still happens. Children still drown in a crowded pool, toddlers still get kidnapped off a beach somewhere, babies get flung out of cars, healthy young men still die in their sleep, motorcyclists still die on the road when idiotic and callous drivers hit them, run over them and drive off (there are unmentionable words for people like that but this is not the time or place). S**t happens. And the rest of us just got to deal with it, live with it, carry on, wondering why and wondering how we can make the world safer for our babies and ourselves. When the underlying fact is, we really can't. We just do the best we can with what we know, with the resources we have.
I'm rambling.
Some of my best childhood memories are of me standing in the backseat of my grandad's old car, windows down, wind whipping in, trees blurring past as we zip through the kampong-lined, veggie field laden back roads of old Tampines to Changi beach. The sternest warning was to keep our hands in the car and not caress the breeze by waggling it out of the window - tempting though it was. And of course stern hisses to: "Shh be quiet! Your grandad's driving! Let him concentrate!" (but of course to my grandma, having the car radio on at full blast would not affect grandad's concentration in the least!)
KH remembers those days when his dad used to pack him and his four siblings into a car and head back to Malaysia on the dusty trunk roads. Zooming back, children tightly squashed against each other, sweaty and hot in a Datsun 120Y. Those were the days of tailgating, big trucks/lorries lumbering on the trunk roads, daredevil overtaking on single-lane carriage ways. Not saying that this was safe or good. It just was done that way.
Life had fewer rules back then. But somehow, it seemed happier.
For now though, my tiny MPV will just hold who or what it can- belt or not belt, carseat or no, and if this means the ILs take a ride elsewhere, or can't come with us on road trips up north, well, I can't say I am displeased. Now can I? ;-)
Monday, June 04, 2007
Welcome with Love
This is a great children's book which showed birth the way it should be. Beautifully illustrated with soft warm tones. It showed a child's view of a birth taking place at home - with a midwife, her tools, the family witnessing the birth etc.
I loved the fact that the book showed a woman labouring in different positions. There was mention of pelvic rocking, vocalising (the child was reassured that 'yelling helped mummy feel better'), long walks in the woods (paralleling the power of nature with the power of birth) and the birth itself took place in a standing position! (Brought back memories of a beautiful birth I supported once!) The placenta was shown, and the cord was shown to be left untouched until it stopped pulsating. Wonderful! And after the birth, the whole family bedded down together with the new baby. The prose was lyrical in the setting of the mood.
When we borrowed it at the library last week, I was not the one who selected it. We were in a hurry to check out all the books so I didn't have time to 'screen' them as I usually did. KH just passed me the book and said: ok this one is about birth but I'm sure you will like it! It's the sort of birth you are always talking about!
He wasn't wrong!
After KH read this to the younger children last night, Cait was full of questions: what is the umbilical cord for? Is this how I was born? What is the placenta?
I was happy to explain of course.
Birth as we know it today has been inaccurately dramatised for tv - with screaming women, in sterile hospital environments, treated like an emergency, usually fraught with fear and tension and worry.
We need to 'take back' the power that rightfully belongs to a good natural birth. A book like this does so in the right way - by exposing children to the beauty of what birth ought to be like - a wondrous natural life event, nothing managed or technical, attended to by the whole family. Nothing to be feared, a lot to marvel about.
I think it's a lovely book to read to children, to prepare them for birth. Not text-heavy, simple to read, also great for non-birthing parents to read to their children. Am contemplating getting this for myself - so rarely do I come across gems like this - and at the National Library to boot!
Do a search at the National Library - title: Welcome with Love. By Jenni Overend and Julie Vivas.
This is a great children's book which showed birth the way it should be. Beautifully illustrated with soft warm tones. It showed a child's view of a birth taking place at home - with a midwife, her tools, the family witnessing the birth etc.
I loved the fact that the book showed a woman labouring in different positions. There was mention of pelvic rocking, vocalising (the child was reassured that 'yelling helped mummy feel better'), long walks in the woods (paralleling the power of nature with the power of birth) and the birth itself took place in a standing position! (Brought back memories of a beautiful birth I supported once!) The placenta was shown, and the cord was shown to be left untouched until it stopped pulsating. Wonderful! And after the birth, the whole family bedded down together with the new baby. The prose was lyrical in the setting of the mood.
When we borrowed it at the library last week, I was not the one who selected it. We were in a hurry to check out all the books so I didn't have time to 'screen' them as I usually did. KH just passed me the book and said: ok this one is about birth but I'm sure you will like it! It's the sort of birth you are always talking about!
He wasn't wrong!
After KH read this to the younger children last night, Cait was full of questions: what is the umbilical cord for? Is this how I was born? What is the placenta?
I was happy to explain of course.
Birth as we know it today has been inaccurately dramatised for tv - with screaming women, in sterile hospital environments, treated like an emergency, usually fraught with fear and tension and worry.
We need to 'take back' the power that rightfully belongs to a good natural birth. A book like this does so in the right way - by exposing children to the beauty of what birth ought to be like - a wondrous natural life event, nothing managed or technical, attended to by the whole family. Nothing to be feared, a lot to marvel about.
I think it's a lovely book to read to children, to prepare them for birth. Not text-heavy, simple to read, also great for non-birthing parents to read to their children. Am contemplating getting this for myself - so rarely do I come across gems like this - and at the National Library to boot!
Do a search at the National Library - title: Welcome with Love. By Jenni Overend and Julie Vivas.
Calm before the chaos
Chaos begins on Wednesday.
On Wednesday, the workers come in and start their job of giving Riang a facelift.
Its been 9 years since we moved into Riang. June 26 1998 marked our first night here. I remember we slept on a mattress in the kids' room (all four of us) and could see the moon rising above the trees, with the smell of new paint and newly varnished wooden floors in the air.
We moved in with two children below the age of 7. Gillian was then in K1 and Isaac was in Nursery. This house has seen my life change in so many ways, including the arrival of three new little ones. Owain, Caitlin and Trinity are my little Riang babies. Now, with flaking paint on the outside, a leaky roof, a backroom that floods when it rains and numerous black finger/hand prints on the walls, Riang is showing her age and needs a good shot in the arm to perk her up a bit.
It's about time.
So we're going to tear down the front porch roof and build a new one. We're going to scrape off the old paint, re-plaster the old walls, put sealant and paint again. A new gutter is going up on the second floor roof. Checks will be made to see if there are leaks up there and to fix it if there are (which I think is likely even though we re-roofed the 40-year-old roof when we moved in). At the back near the kitchen, the gutter will be torn down, replaced, old roof boards will be changed and repainted, cracks replastered and sealed and so poor Lolita's room will finally be leak-proof! No more rushing in with a bucket, mop and various assortment of rags everytime it starts to pour!
In the ground floor room which Lolita now occupies, the room will be split into two. Lolita will get a smaller space. A new opening will be cut in the wall to allow access into the kitchen. The 'new' room that is formed by the split, will be the study room. We will move the study from the second floor down (a very good time to clear the loads of files, knick-knacks, photographs etc). That room will now be Isaac's and Owain's room. Cait will move from the master bedroom where she has been sleeping with us since birth, to Gillian's room. Eventually, Trinity will also come to share that room with the two girls. I don't think Owain will be moving to Isaac's room anytime soon since he still nurses a lot at night so for now Isaac will have a room to himself!
There will be other small stuff to be done eg the plumbing, changing of taps, repairing the toilet bowl, repainting the other rooms etc.
Not a lot of massive changes but some pretty significant ones. Not so much in the area of aesthetics but more for practicality and functionality. The family is growing and we just need the space. We do have the option to move out but Riang has grown on us. Isaac is constantly pleading for us to just stay put since all his friends are here and ditto his favourite wanton mee! My mum is just round the corner and really, I can't find a more convenient location - just minutes from the CTE, a new MRT station being built, a couple of bus-stops away from Toa Payoh and Bishan. So unless the price is really really very good, it looks like we're staying right here...
The contractors will take about 3 weeks to finish, so we do have to put up with the noise and dust for a while and it looks like the Malaysia trip to the East Coast is off the charts for now too. But meanwhile, I'm having fun looking at the paint catalogues and browsing the Ikea catalogue.
The garden too needs to be rejuvenated. There are a couple of plants I am thinking of getting. In particular, a large pot of jasmine. I love the scent and I don't care if it is commonly associated with the scent of spirits! We already have a plumeira tree in the garden and this too has been linked with cemeteries and spirits etc. But I love the bright pink flowers and that, plus the new pot of jasmine, would be a lovely combination in the garden. I can just imagine sitting on our porch on a moonlit night and taking a large deep sniff of the fragrance of the jasmine! Lovely!
Chaos begins on Wednesday.
On Wednesday, the workers come in and start their job of giving Riang a facelift.
Its been 9 years since we moved into Riang. June 26 1998 marked our first night here. I remember we slept on a mattress in the kids' room (all four of us) and could see the moon rising above the trees, with the smell of new paint and newly varnished wooden floors in the air.
We moved in with two children below the age of 7. Gillian was then in K1 and Isaac was in Nursery. This house has seen my life change in so many ways, including the arrival of three new little ones. Owain, Caitlin and Trinity are my little Riang babies. Now, with flaking paint on the outside, a leaky roof, a backroom that floods when it rains and numerous black finger/hand prints on the walls, Riang is showing her age and needs a good shot in the arm to perk her up a bit.
It's about time.
So we're going to tear down the front porch roof and build a new one. We're going to scrape off the old paint, re-plaster the old walls, put sealant and paint again. A new gutter is going up on the second floor roof. Checks will be made to see if there are leaks up there and to fix it if there are (which I think is likely even though we re-roofed the 40-year-old roof when we moved in). At the back near the kitchen, the gutter will be torn down, replaced, old roof boards will be changed and repainted, cracks replastered and sealed and so poor Lolita's room will finally be leak-proof! No more rushing in with a bucket, mop and various assortment of rags everytime it starts to pour!
In the ground floor room which Lolita now occupies, the room will be split into two. Lolita will get a smaller space. A new opening will be cut in the wall to allow access into the kitchen. The 'new' room that is formed by the split, will be the study room. We will move the study from the second floor down (a very good time to clear the loads of files, knick-knacks, photographs etc). That room will now be Isaac's and Owain's room. Cait will move from the master bedroom where she has been sleeping with us since birth, to Gillian's room. Eventually, Trinity will also come to share that room with the two girls. I don't think Owain will be moving to Isaac's room anytime soon since he still nurses a lot at night so for now Isaac will have a room to himself!
There will be other small stuff to be done eg the plumbing, changing of taps, repairing the toilet bowl, repainting the other rooms etc.
Not a lot of massive changes but some pretty significant ones. Not so much in the area of aesthetics but more for practicality and functionality. The family is growing and we just need the space. We do have the option to move out but Riang has grown on us. Isaac is constantly pleading for us to just stay put since all his friends are here and ditto his favourite wanton mee! My mum is just round the corner and really, I can't find a more convenient location - just minutes from the CTE, a new MRT station being built, a couple of bus-stops away from Toa Payoh and Bishan. So unless the price is really really very good, it looks like we're staying right here...
The contractors will take about 3 weeks to finish, so we do have to put up with the noise and dust for a while and it looks like the Malaysia trip to the East Coast is off the charts for now too. But meanwhile, I'm having fun looking at the paint catalogues and browsing the Ikea catalogue.
The garden too needs to be rejuvenated. There are a couple of plants I am thinking of getting. In particular, a large pot of jasmine. I love the scent and I don't care if it is commonly associated with the scent of spirits! We already have a plumeira tree in the garden and this too has been linked with cemeteries and spirits etc. But I love the bright pink flowers and that, plus the new pot of jasmine, would be a lovely combination in the garden. I can just imagine sitting on our porch on a moonlit night and taking a large deep sniff of the fragrance of the jasmine! Lovely!
Waiting
I am waiting for that piece of paper to come in the post.
Birth International in Australia has returned me the last of my assignments - all marked with good passes. So that means that's it - the end. I've done everything. Passed everything. Now all that is left is the actual piece of paper that tells me I have a Graduate Diploma in Childbirth Education. Those words give me a nice tingle!
I'm restraining myself. I won't shout for joy until I get that piece of paper in my hands. Everyday I check the mail and I know its anyday now. I can't wait!! But I won't believe it and I won't say it until I have it in hand.
I am waiting for that piece of paper to come in the post.
Birth International in Australia has returned me the last of my assignments - all marked with good passes. So that means that's it - the end. I've done everything. Passed everything. Now all that is left is the actual piece of paper that tells me I have a Graduate Diploma in Childbirth Education. Those words give me a nice tingle!
I'm restraining myself. I won't shout for joy until I get that piece of paper in my hands. Everyday I check the mail and I know its anyday now. I can't wait!! But I won't believe it and I won't say it until I have it in hand.
Music and Lyrics
We were in the car listening to a CD full of old songs. Gillian was very taken with 'Streets of London' by Ralph McTell and 'Same Auld Lang Syne' by Dan Fogelberg. She concentrated hard to listen to the lyrics and said at last that she could not hear everything but thinks there are stories in there.
I agree.
Call me an old fogey but I like the old songs - simply because there are stories in there. I grew up on songs like "Tell Laura I Love Her" which had corny lyrics and told a cheesy story of a boy who loved a girl so much that he died in a stock car race to win the prize money to get her a diamond ring. Stupid chap. But it sure kept me round-eyed as a little girl. (Now you know where I get my diehard romantic streak from!) And who can forget songs like Conway Twitty's "Joni Please Don't Cry" which was about love lost, love that came too late.
Sure, today's songs do have stories but they are less of a narrative nature. And there's something about putting a story to music, seeing the story unfold before your mind's eye. I also think it is easier for someone learning a language to listen to narrative stories.
All this gives me an idea - to teach Gillian English using what she loves - song lyrics. Why not use this for listening comprehension, composition, vocab work?
I'll let her listen to it, read the lyrics, discuss the story, write out what she feels about the song, re-write the story in her own words in a short 'composition' and discuss the issues found in there eg in Ralph McTell's "Streets of London", the song speaks of loneliness - different types of loneliness, forgotten people, and also of optimism. Dan Fogelberg's "Same Auld Lang Syne" is poignant and speaks of yearning. Both deal with the issue of loneliness in different forms.
New project!! I like...
We were in the car listening to a CD full of old songs. Gillian was very taken with 'Streets of London' by Ralph McTell and 'Same Auld Lang Syne' by Dan Fogelberg. She concentrated hard to listen to the lyrics and said at last that she could not hear everything but thinks there are stories in there.
I agree.
Call me an old fogey but I like the old songs - simply because there are stories in there. I grew up on songs like "Tell Laura I Love Her" which had corny lyrics and told a cheesy story of a boy who loved a girl so much that he died in a stock car race to win the prize money to get her a diamond ring. Stupid chap. But it sure kept me round-eyed as a little girl. (Now you know where I get my diehard romantic streak from!) And who can forget songs like Conway Twitty's "Joni Please Don't Cry" which was about love lost, love that came too late.
Sure, today's songs do have stories but they are less of a narrative nature. And there's something about putting a story to music, seeing the story unfold before your mind's eye. I also think it is easier for someone learning a language to listen to narrative stories.
All this gives me an idea - to teach Gillian English using what she loves - song lyrics. Why not use this for listening comprehension, composition, vocab work?
I'll let her listen to it, read the lyrics, discuss the story, write out what she feels about the song, re-write the story in her own words in a short 'composition' and discuss the issues found in there eg in Ralph McTell's "Streets of London", the song speaks of loneliness - different types of loneliness, forgotten people, and also of optimism. Dan Fogelberg's "Same Auld Lang Syne" is poignant and speaks of yearning. Both deal with the issue of loneliness in different forms.
New project!! I like...
pork chops
A big hit with the kids. And very simple to do too. Just marinate with salt, sugar and pepper. Leave to stand for a while. Fry in butter. Serve hot with a dollop of organic apple sauce (buy from supermarket). Its actually good enough to eat plain too. A side dish of steamed veg - broccoli, carrots and pumpkins goes well. As does a simple can of Campbells Cream of Mushroom soup. The kids were disappointed when the chops ran out.
A big hit with the kids. And very simple to do too. Just marinate with salt, sugar and pepper. Leave to stand for a while. Fry in butter. Serve hot with a dollop of organic apple sauce (buy from supermarket). Its actually good enough to eat plain too. A side dish of steamed veg - broccoli, carrots and pumpkins goes well. As does a simple can of Campbells Cream of Mushroom soup. The kids were disappointed when the chops ran out.
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