Number 5 and out in the cold

On Sunday the MP came by.

In our 8/9 years there, we have never seen or met our MP. Now election over and MP changed, and so we finally get a chance to meet the man. Mr Seah Kian Peng. Good firm handshake.

Took opportunity to 'pour out my woes' - heh.

There is a small park in a corner of Jln Riang. The kids of the neighbourhood love to hang out there. There's a playground with sandpit, a bastketball court and some swings. In the evenings, the maids of the neighbourhood hang out there with their charges, children kick around a ball, older kids shoot some hoops and place comes alive with chatter and noise. Unfortunately, the park is right next to the house belonging to the resident killjoy.

This launty living there loves to call the cops and confiscate stray footballs that go over her wall. And no matter how the children plead and apologise, they don't get their balls back. She's got a big box full of balls - at least 20 of them. I have seen one expat Australian family (with 5 kids in tow!) standing outside the auntie's house pleading for their ball back. Quite funny because the Australians can't quite understand the auntie, who keeps yelling: "我听不懂！ 我不会给你你们的 ball!" but to their credit, remained calm and kept repeating their apologies and asking for the ball. The aunty must have given in out of frustration for I saw the family walking past with said ball - the lone survivor out of ball prison.

This auntie has complained many times and the cops have come to take down particulars, given the kids' warning etc. Finally, she got the RC to lobby to change the park - so the basketball court went. The dwarf fir trees went up flanking her wall. The No Football signs went up.

According to my brother who has played many a basketball game on the court before it was demolished, this aunty has always been like this, complaining and confiscating stray balls for years.

I thought it rather mean-spirited of her - denying kids the chance to play and run and let off steam. We live in a private estate which means no space to kick a ball around unless we do so in the roads, which is dangerous. So the only place for kids to do this is in the park. So much for healthy lifestyle, community bonding etc.

I thought it was time someone spoke up for the kids.

Also raised pet peeve of zero benefits and zero baby bonus for my children. All have been denied any benefits due to dates. Number three was born 9 days shy of the Apr 1 2001 launch of the baby bonus scheme. Number 4 was born without any benefits because benefits only applied to the third child. By the time they extended the benefits to baby number 4, baby number five was born - and so did not get a cent.

We now talk so much about declining population, the need to have foreign talent etc. And newspapers are doing a great PR blitz with stories of happy immigrants, big happy families etc. Tax dollars are going into schemes to help entice foreign talent to come and stay etc. Yet we put caps on benefits for children of large families. If every Singaporean is important and indeed, as the PM himself said, no Singaporean will be left behind, then how come my kids don't get a red dime?

They are Singaporeans too are they not? My 4th child will serve NS and my kids will contribute to the economy someday. But somehow, they don't count.

I say: if it is so important and crucial to raise the population by births, don't stint and stinge. Give to ALL children, regardless of birth order, regardless of deadlines or dates. Those are just numbers. But the gift of children are real. Real to us as parents, and eventually, real to the country as citizens as well.

Husband says I can talk till the cows come home but nothing will change.

I am an optimist. And there are no cows in Singapore.

I hope Mr Seah passes the message on.

In the eyes and mouth

Noticed the boy has a bit of red-eye and the conjunctiva looked swollen. So I asked him to come over so that I can squirt some breastmilk into his eye. Always worked like a charm - within 20min of administering some breastmilk, the pink-eye always improves, thanks to the anti-bacterial properties of breastmilk. So much better and faster than the usual eye-drops the doctors give.

But this time, the boy was dawdling and refused to let me put some in his eye. After some cajoling, he and said: "You give nen-nen in the eye. How about nen-nen in the mouth also?"

Yep. Never lose an opportunity to nurse.

Nursing Owain this long means it's the longest I have ever nursed any baby. And because he is so verbal at 3 years old, it's so much fun to listen to all the negotiations and wise words that come out from his mouth when it comes to nursing.

Such as: "Breastmilk makes me stronger and bigger!"

"I like nen-nen! It tastes like ice-cream!"

"Please mummy, please can I drink nen-nen?" and when I say no, he clasps both chubby hands together and pleads: "Just a little bit, just a little while, please, please!" and if I still say no, he goes: "Arrrgggh!"

When he sees me nursing Trinity, he persuades: "I drink together with Trinity! Please mom, I like it!"

So while on one hand I get really antsy with his frequent nursing sessions, as frequent as 5 minutes apart sometimes, on the other, I wish he would never stop. Or at least, not so soon.

The 'Damaged' Person

"Daaaaddddd...." Owain hollers from back of our car. "Can we go to Queensway McDonalds?"

That sparks off our Saturday ritual of Deciding Where To Go For Breakfast. With so many members in the family, everyone wants a say and of course everyone feels like eating different types of food. There is usually a great deal of wheeling and dealing and lobbying going in the backseats as the kids try to garner votes, make alliances to pressure mum and dad into having breakfast of their choice.

So while mum and dad were hemming and hawing in the front, frowning in concentration to fit food and errands into locations which were convenient to each other, the back rows were noisy with discussions and arguments.

Through this noise, suddenly a voice piped up in very serious tones: "Mummy, you have to listen to the damaged person." This was Caitlin.

Huh? What damaged person? "Owain of course! He's got a wound in his head remember?" she says.

Who can argue with this recommendation?

The Damaged Person won and the Chongs had brekkie at Queensway McDonalds - our favourite outlet. The kids love the little garden and the turtles. And there's something nice about a lazy brekkie amidst greenery (and this includes the algae-laden pond) while the kids hang out at the bridge checking out the turtles and the resident large arrowana which occasionally surfaces, scales gleaming gold amid the green.

After brekkie, we tried to drug our son in preparation for the removal of stitches. The doc had given us some chloral hydrate syrup and Owain had to swallow 15ml of the stuff to be knocked out. I was not in favour of this, preferring to nurse him through the process - which is also very relaxing. But KH said no. So he was on his own when it came to giving the boy the stuff - which Owain promptly spat out onto himself and his daddy.

End result - nothing went in and my boy was not drugged after all. The removal of stitches went smoothly. He lay there while I talked to him, pointing out the big OT lights, asking him how many lights there were, telling him why we needed the lights etc, while the doctor snipped and pulled the stitches loose. He was a real trouper!

Milestone!

She stands! Last night came home from work to find Trinity standing all by herself. She stood there, hands busy fingering a toy, for at least a minute or so, until she realised that she was standing without grabbing anything. Then she let the toy fall and her eyes widened in panic as she reached out to find something to grab on to. Very cute! Also, saw yesterday that she's now able to climb on top of the low coffee table. She's been trying very hard over the past week or so and now finally she's done it. Yesterday, she also appeared to be more confident when negotiating the step from the dining to the living. She used to panic, cry a bit when she had to negotiate it and usually came down on her front, one foot at a time. Yesterday, she came down butt-first - which is safer.

She also shows a great deal of personality - I don't remember the other kids showing as much spunk and personality as she does when they were her age. These days she wriggles, snorts and makes noises to show she wants me. When she sees Owain nursing, she'd scuttle over and try to pull/push him off, then grab on and pull herself up on my other arm. Its her way of telling me she wants to nurse. When you feed her something and she doesn't like it, she'd grab the spoon and pull it away. She loves her hide and seek games. Gets really excited when her kor-kor and che-che play catching with her. She loves to 'run' with me in the sling.

Seems like there's a growth spurt happening because I see these changes coming fast one after another.

Before I know it, she'll be toddling away.

They grow so fast...

Humpty Dumpty

...fell on some rocks and cracked his head open.

Owain, my fishball, round-shaped Owain, did a Humpty Dumpty on Sunday. We were at the reservoir trying to catch some unsuspecting prawns. It was a nice golden evening. KH and the kids were perched on rocks, patiently luring the prawns out with some bait. I was sitting on a bench nursing Trinity. I saw Owain throwing one of his crocs into the water and called out to him: "Owain! Shoe!" The boy retrieved it and I continued nursing and day-dreaming. Next thing I knew Gillian yelled: "Mum! Owain fell! He's bleeding!"

Being mom to 5, you can really write the chapter on kid accidents so I was slow to react, Trinity was still latched on and I remained seated. Then I saw two women (other mothers!) racing towards him and something told me this was different from the scrape and cut we were used to.

I unlatched Trinity and yelled for KH to go over. By the time we reached Owain, blood was dripping from a deep open gash in his forehead. Dead centre. One mother said, "Give him some sugar. Got any sweets?" and I remember saying automatically: "It's ok, I'm breastfeeding. Breastmilk is sweet." And true to form, my injured babe was yelling: "I want NEN-NEN!!"

Everything happened so fast. We didn't even thank the mothers for the tissue papers. I told KH: "Hospital. Now." So I cradled Owain while KH organised the kids, the nets, the pails of prawn - "Throw them back! We can't bring them to the hospital with us!" I yelled. To which Isaac groaned: "WHAT! After all my hard work!"

So we ran - sort of - KH ran. It was marvellous to see what adrenalin can do to an out-of-shape 40ish man. All that IPPT training worked after all. Carrying Owain and running was like carrying a full-pack and running - same weight!

He drove like a bat out of hell - horning, flashing lights, cutting lanes. Until I told him to better slow down or we won't make it there at all. Funny how it is that faced with these situations, the man freaks out. I am calm - been there done that remember? Not the first emergency run to the hospital after all.

At the emergency room, Owain was examined and stitches recommended. But because he would scream blue murder and struggle, the drs recommended keeping him under GA. So KH sent the older kids home while Trinity and I accompanied Owain up to the ward - he was seated in a wheelchair!

Surgeon came later and explained the process. Said that he would give Owain an injection to make him sleep. I asked the doc to give some lidocaine gel before jabbing him. Doc said no need. I glared at him. For all of Owain's life, I have protected him from any injections - and that includes vaccinations. And here he is, being jabbed. Then I said: what about me nursing him so it would not be so painful? Doc said no, no food and drink. I said breastmilk is so easily digestible its not considered food. Doc started to explain risks of gastric aspiration. As if I didn't know that. I opened my mouth to argue. KH said firmly: OK no breastmilk. I gave HIM the evil eye.

By 9pm, the thrill of non-stop cartoons was wearing thin and he began fretting for nen-nen. Thanks to his evil dad, I said: no, but I will nurse you later ok? The boy was a trouper and agreed. For all of 10minutes - then he asked again! And again!

We went up to the operating theatre at 10pm. Owain looked so cute in a hospital gown and shower cap. I asked him who he wanted to bring him in, and pang of pangs, he said: daddy!

I felt ambivalent. On one hand, I didn't want to be the one to hold him while he got jabbed. Could not stand to watch him feeling pain. On the other hand, we've never been separated like this. Aside from the one night that I birthed Trinity, he has always been with me.

So as KH took him in, KH also dressed in green surgical scrubs, I stood outside the OT doors and peered in through the glass. For some reason, I felt like crying.

How long can you protect a child? I thought of his smooth, lovely wide and clear forehead, now to be marred by a scar and I felt a rush of tears. I stood there, carrying Trinity and waiting until I saw KH coming out. Then he gave me and Trin a hug and we stood there waiting until we saw the nurse carrying a tiny figure bundled in a white blanket.

We brought him down to his room but he was clearly knocked out. KH ta-paoed char kway teow which we fell on and devoured - so hungry were we! We both spent the night with him and at 1am, I heard a tentative, groggy sounding: mummy? I want nen-nen... I'm so glad that I can still give him something that comforts and heals.

Today is Wednesday and he seems fine. The wound seems to be oozing but he reports no pain. Stoic boy. Fearless, he's back in form - jumping, running, building his lego robots.

Tomorrow he turns 3. What a ride it has been. My big-head-boy, my superman. My first gentle birth 3 years ago, my biggest baby ever, has grown into a sturdy, generous, happy, good-natured charmer with a mischievous grin.

I'm so glad Humpty Dumpty survived the fall after all.