Single mom for a week
As I write, KH is now having a nice brekkie 50,000ft in the air, in his comfy business class seat somewhere over Europe. Grrr....
And I? I will be single mom for a week.
He's off to a week in The Hague, Netherlands for business. But because the meetings spill over to next week, he's got a weekend free. He's been whining to me about not knowing where to go, that its so cold... blah blah blah. Ingrate. Gimme a week free of kids, travel on business class, a weekend in Amsterdam and you wouldn't find me bloody complaining!
But on the other hand, it's not so bad being the single parent for a while. For one thing, I get to have the whole bed to myself! Well, ok, shared with Owain and Trin of course, but still with more space and no sensurround snoring! Then I get to watch cheesy shows like American Idol all I like without being accused of being a TV-holic! I can cook and eat hot spicy dishes without worrying about whether His Highness likes it or not! My bath towel will be left unmolested in the morning for once!
On the down side, I now have to wake up early with the big kids, give them their allowance, chase them to finish breakfast, comb hair, put on socks/shoes etc. And since my personal chauffeur has jetted off, I also now have to go to and from work on my own - walking out to catch a bus, waiting super-long for the wretched bus number 58, changing buses etc. Thank God for my MP3 player.
The hardest bit comes on Sat when I have to transport the kids to all their classes - Kumon at Goldhill (11am), ballet at Toa Payoh Safra at 1.45pm, catechism in church at 2pm, swimming at Serangoon at 4pm. And because it's the whole morning and afternoon, I've got to bring Trin along (milk) and since I'm bringing Trin along, Owain will surely want to come along. So I'm going to be on the move with 5 kids on my hands and no car!! Argh...
I am spoilt. I know it. Moral of the story - learn to drive. Then the car won't be sitting in the sun collecting bird poo and smashed fruits.
What does this tell you? I miss the man only because of transport issues??
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Tissue paper and MRT seats
I went downtown yesterday. I wanted to visit the JNTO at Hong Leong Bldg to pick up maps and brochures on Japan. Picked up Cait from school with Owain in tow and we took the MRT to Raffles Place. My kids must have been the only kids on the streets in a 1-km radius! We certainly stuck out like sore thumbs.
Shenton Way was full of harried-looking execs criss-crossing paths and looking like they had to be somewhere else 10 minutes ago. Cait picked up on the hurry-burry vibe and asked me: Mum how come everyone is in such a hurry?
Since we were on Paul's doorstep, we gave him a call and had a drink with him and his colleague at Lau Pa Sat. I hadn't been here in years. The place bore little resemblance to what I remember of it - a spacious, airy place with great-tasting dark Hokkien mee. My late grandfather used to bring his family here and I remember coming here with mum and dad and the aunties and uncles for an old-fashioned hearty meal. Today, aside from the beautiful Victorian-age wrought iron pillars and rafters, the roof etc, Lau Pa Sat resembles nothing more than a giant office foodcourt-canteen! So many stalls selling the usual blah foodcourt fare, tiny tables squashed near cheek by jowl. Thronged with office-workers looking homogenous and colourless in black, grey, blue, whites. Everyone seemed to look like a carbon copy of the other.
And on table after table sat packets of tissue paper!! The well-known tissue-paper phenomenon. Honestly while I'd heard of this, I had never actually seen this - until yesterday. It was like some unspoken code of understanding that whenever someone left a packet on the table, it meant it was 'occupied' while the occupants went in search of food. This kind of system is surely open to dispute, I asked Paul. Yes, he said, only when the ang-mohs, the Indian and Chinese nationals, who are not aware of this 'system' plonk themselves on occupied territory. Nasty exchanges have been known to happen when the owners of the packet of tissue paper return to find their places usurped. I wish I could have seen one!
Why can't people just get their food, come back and scan for the nearest available seat? Or if in a group, why must all go in search of food together? Surely one person can wait at the table until someone from the party returns?
I don't know... I never do this. I just leave my children to 'guard' the table - why depend on an inanimate plastic rectangle when I have got living breathing kids who can sit there, 'chope' our spots. Except that, of course, those very same children have been known to run off for various reasons leaving the seats wide open. Or, as in Isaac's case, stare wide-eyed, tongue-tied when people ask: is this seat taken?
Speaking of seats, on the way back home on the MRT, the kids and I managed to get a seat. So there I was sitting next to the door, Owain perched on my lap with a thick wad of papers and brochures and my handbag squashed between me and Cait. By the time the train reached City Hall station, all the seats were occupied.
A heavily pregnant lady came on board. She stood near the centre pole. The lady sitting across from me was busy SMSing - so initially, I thought she didn't see the preggie woman. Incidentally, I noticed that the preggie lady was carrying the baby very low. At that kind of belly size, carrying that low, it must be a strain on the pelvic ligaments and at some point, will pinch and hurt.
Preggie woman continued standing. I was in two minds - stand or don't stand? I had sleepy Owain, a heavy bag and a thick wad of papers to grapple with. I felt I should stand but I also needed the seat. I glared at the lady sitting across from me, who had by now stopped SMSing, seen the preggie woman but still didn't move her butt. The yellow sign asking people to give up their seats for someone who needed it more hung directly above her head. I stared pointedly at her, shifted my glance to the preggie lady and back. She met my stare. But did not get up.
Finally I told Owain: let's stand for this lady here so that she can sit okay? And we shuffled up from our seat. Preggie lady took the seat gratefully as I motioned to Cait to stay put in her seat. The Aussie family next to us saw everything and stood up saying that they were getting off anyway, so Owain and I could sit down.
As for that woman sitting across from me, well, she wasn't the only one. There were other women sitting there as well. You would have thought that women would have more compassion for other fellow women? Hah! So much for 20 over years of the courtesy campaign, the singapore kindness movement etc. And imagine this kind of mindset in a population of 6.5million!
I went downtown yesterday. I wanted to visit the JNTO at Hong Leong Bldg to pick up maps and brochures on Japan. Picked up Cait from school with Owain in tow and we took the MRT to Raffles Place. My kids must have been the only kids on the streets in a 1-km radius! We certainly stuck out like sore thumbs.
Shenton Way was full of harried-looking execs criss-crossing paths and looking like they had to be somewhere else 10 minutes ago. Cait picked up on the hurry-burry vibe and asked me: Mum how come everyone is in such a hurry?
Since we were on Paul's doorstep, we gave him a call and had a drink with him and his colleague at Lau Pa Sat. I hadn't been here in years. The place bore little resemblance to what I remember of it - a spacious, airy place with great-tasting dark Hokkien mee. My late grandfather used to bring his family here and I remember coming here with mum and dad and the aunties and uncles for an old-fashioned hearty meal. Today, aside from the beautiful Victorian-age wrought iron pillars and rafters, the roof etc, Lau Pa Sat resembles nothing more than a giant office foodcourt-canteen! So many stalls selling the usual blah foodcourt fare, tiny tables squashed near cheek by jowl. Thronged with office-workers looking homogenous and colourless in black, grey, blue, whites. Everyone seemed to look like a carbon copy of the other.
And on table after table sat packets of tissue paper!! The well-known tissue-paper phenomenon. Honestly while I'd heard of this, I had never actually seen this - until yesterday. It was like some unspoken code of understanding that whenever someone left a packet on the table, it meant it was 'occupied' while the occupants went in search of food. This kind of system is surely open to dispute, I asked Paul. Yes, he said, only when the ang-mohs, the Indian and Chinese nationals, who are not aware of this 'system' plonk themselves on occupied territory. Nasty exchanges have been known to happen when the owners of the packet of tissue paper return to find their places usurped. I wish I could have seen one!
Why can't people just get their food, come back and scan for the nearest available seat? Or if in a group, why must all go in search of food together? Surely one person can wait at the table until someone from the party returns?
I don't know... I never do this. I just leave my children to 'guard' the table - why depend on an inanimate plastic rectangle when I have got living breathing kids who can sit there, 'chope' our spots. Except that, of course, those very same children have been known to run off for various reasons leaving the seats wide open. Or, as in Isaac's case, stare wide-eyed, tongue-tied when people ask: is this seat taken?
Speaking of seats, on the way back home on the MRT, the kids and I managed to get a seat. So there I was sitting next to the door, Owain perched on my lap with a thick wad of papers and brochures and my handbag squashed between me and Cait. By the time the train reached City Hall station, all the seats were occupied.
A heavily pregnant lady came on board. She stood near the centre pole. The lady sitting across from me was busy SMSing - so initially, I thought she didn't see the preggie woman. Incidentally, I noticed that the preggie lady was carrying the baby very low. At that kind of belly size, carrying that low, it must be a strain on the pelvic ligaments and at some point, will pinch and hurt.
Preggie woman continued standing. I was in two minds - stand or don't stand? I had sleepy Owain, a heavy bag and a thick wad of papers to grapple with. I felt I should stand but I also needed the seat. I glared at the lady sitting across from me, who had by now stopped SMSing, seen the preggie woman but still didn't move her butt. The yellow sign asking people to give up their seats for someone who needed it more hung directly above her head. I stared pointedly at her, shifted my glance to the preggie lady and back. She met my stare. But did not get up.
Finally I told Owain: let's stand for this lady here so that she can sit okay? And we shuffled up from our seat. Preggie lady took the seat gratefully as I motioned to Cait to stay put in her seat. The Aussie family next to us saw everything and stood up saying that they were getting off anyway, so Owain and I could sit down.
As for that woman sitting across from me, well, she wasn't the only one. There were other women sitting there as well. You would have thought that women would have more compassion for other fellow women? Hah! So much for 20 over years of the courtesy campaign, the singapore kindness movement etc. And imagine this kind of mindset in a population of 6.5million!
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Happy New Year!
The dog left and the pig joined us. Here's how the Chongs celebrated Chinese New Year (CNY).
CNY Eve:
Last-minute mad rush to the nurseries to pick up the pussy willows and the blooms for the table centrepiece. The cold room was freezing cold! That's why they called it the cold room right?? To make things worse, I was in a typical Libran dither. Could not decide what colours, what combination of flowers to buy. I went from Australian wild flowers to roses and baby's breath (yes very 80s and very passe) and dawdled among the chrysanthemums before I decided: ok! one bunch of yellow chrysanthemums, one lot of purple heather-like stuff and orange/red wildflowers (don't ask me what their names are).
Back home, cut and arranged the flowers (not happy with this year's arrangment) and the kids decorated the pussy willows.
Dinner was at 8. Since my MIL has just moved in with my BIL, she decided not to cook for reunion dinner so we made reservations for ZiYean at Lengkok Bahru.
We love the stuff at this place. The dim sum and the czechar is really to die for. Every dish that I've tried there was good. I have never been disappointed yet. That night, the place was packed. Tentage out in the carpark, out in the gardens and yet people will milling about waiting for their turn in the restaurant. There were two sittings - one at 5pm and the other at 8pm.
Food was great. Many sharks died for us that night. We had the lucky raw fish, the sharksfin soup (very yummy and the beauty of eating with kids who only want to play is that I get second helpings! Okay I am not being very PC here. I feel sorry for the sharks. But I have to admit that I lurvve my sharksfin soup!). We also had baby abalone (the kids had left the table to play outside the restaurant so I got at least 4 helpings!! Can you tell that gluttony is a major sin with me?) .
Dinner finally over, we headed home where the kids tried to stay awake so that KH and I could have long lives. I tried to chase them off to bed because I never wanted to live that long anyway - 70 is max for me. But they outlasted me, thanks to Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant cavorting on telly. I think I conked by 11pm. What does that mean for my mum 'n' dad??
Day 1
We did the tea ceremony thing. We do this every year where the kids would give us tea (we don't make them kneel!) stammer out their well-rehearsed New Year wishes and earn a red packet. This year we realised we ran out of chinese tea and had to make do with Liptons. To make a bit more authentic, we didn't add sugar - haha. I was really hungry 'cos the monsters woke up late (thanks to Sandra Bullock et al) and we had to scramble for time getting them dressed and ready. So we had the fastest tea ceremony ever - whizzing through all 5 twice! Had great steamed carrot cake for brekkie - it was damn good! Must ask Jessie where she got this cake.
After that, we went for mass. All looking very spiffy in our best of the best. After mass, we hit my mom's place where everyone oohed at Trin tottering around in her cute little red cheongsam. After a great lunch of my mom's all-time best - traditional Peranakan favourites like bakwan kepiting and ayam buah keluak, we hit the mahjong table. This year, my ship came in. Finally. After so many years of humiliating bankrupt defeat at the hands of my father, sister and brother, I finally, actually WON! Won big too! Woohoo!
After that, it was on to the in-laws. The kids had fun. We had - sigh - KFC and Pizza Hut!! Sacrilegious for CNY first day! So while the kids played and my ILs talked among themselves and played blackjack, I watched Harry Potter on telly. Daniel Radcliffe looked a lot cuter back then than he does now. In the commercial breaks, I whip out my Tokyo handbook and plot...You can tell: I was having the time of my life.
Day 2
Granny's place. The cousins and aunties etc were all there. We ate well for lunch - my aunt cooked her own buah keluak, mum contributed chap-chye and another aunt gave tempura prawns with wasabi-mayo dip (very yum!). Dessert was konnyaku jelly (which women in my antenatal class will never view with the same enthusiasm again after I described the bloody show using that analogy) and American carrot cake - sinfully good with a thick coat of cream cheese on top!
Headed for a good friend's place after that - where we were once again plied with food - great beehoon with bak-kut teh, a lusciously creamy thick royal choc cake, eclairs and the usual CNY goodies. After the kids sang their way through two-thirds of High School Musical, played 8 rounds of computer games, and collected their red packets, we left. KH took the kids to his sister's place while I took Trin and headed for mum's. One more triumphant round of mahjong where I actually made some serious money. Brilliant!
Day 3
Breakfast at McDonalds. The kids clamoured for cousin-time but I was not having any of it. Three days of the ILs was more than enough. After that, we left the kids at home and went to a movie. Protege. Great movie. I thought Andy Lau bore more than a passing resemblance to KH thanks to his salt n pepper cropped hairstyle. Thought Daniel Wu was quite cute too. But he looked too much like Andre Yeo (a reporter friend who works with The New Paper) for me to think he's hot!
The movie was good. Well-paced. Interesting characterisation.
For me, the key figure in the whole movie was not Andy Lau's drug boss or Daniel Wu's mole role. It was the little girl. The cute, plump little girl who was the daughter of the drug addict. The scene where she came across her mother, slumped in an armchair in a drug-induced bliss, and nonchalantly pulled out the syringe still in her mother's arm to throw it into a wastebin filled with drug paraphernalia - that said it all. When I saw that, I immediately missed my babes. It made me want to run home and give them a hug, to protect them and try my best not to screw them up for life.
The child was really the centre of it all - it was heartbreaking. Watching her, I have no doubt that these same scenes are being played out all over the world - children who see their parents shoot up, watch while their mothers prostitute themselves for money to nurture a drug habit, or see their parents die from an overdose. What does she think of it all? What goes through her mind as she lives like this? The movie does not say. The little girl just looks stoic, never complaining or making any judgement or observation. Perhaps it is normal to her. Its just really sad to me.
And then you contrast it with Andy Lau's family - the druglord with a pregnant wife, two children. They grow up wanting nothing - a typical well-to-do family. Only thing is, daddy deals drugs. He's just a businessman with a product to sell. He doesn't believe in the stuff. Despises the addicts. Insists they have choices, denies any responsibility for their choices. But in the end, I guess you can't divorce yourself from taint of drugs. When things came crashing down, his family suffered too. It was sad and painful to watch. Nobody wins. I like movies like these - no clear-cut heroes or baddies. Just very real, human roles playing out tragedies that also do happen in real life.
I left the cinema disturbed and thoughtful. Thinking not only about the drug situation, but also about parenting. So much for a start to the new year!
The dog left and the pig joined us. Here's how the Chongs celebrated Chinese New Year (CNY).
CNY Eve:
Last-minute mad rush to the nurseries to pick up the pussy willows and the blooms for the table centrepiece. The cold room was freezing cold! That's why they called it the cold room right?? To make things worse, I was in a typical Libran dither. Could not decide what colours, what combination of flowers to buy. I went from Australian wild flowers to roses and baby's breath (yes very 80s and very passe) and dawdled among the chrysanthemums before I decided: ok! one bunch of yellow chrysanthemums, one lot of purple heather-like stuff and orange/red wildflowers (don't ask me what their names are).
Back home, cut and arranged the flowers (not happy with this year's arrangment) and the kids decorated the pussy willows.
Dinner was at 8. Since my MIL has just moved in with my BIL, she decided not to cook for reunion dinner so we made reservations for ZiYean at Lengkok Bahru.
We love the stuff at this place. The dim sum and the czechar is really to die for. Every dish that I've tried there was good. I have never been disappointed yet. That night, the place was packed. Tentage out in the carpark, out in the gardens and yet people will milling about waiting for their turn in the restaurant. There were two sittings - one at 5pm and the other at 8pm.
Food was great. Many sharks died for us that night. We had the lucky raw fish, the sharksfin soup (very yummy and the beauty of eating with kids who only want to play is that I get second helpings! Okay I am not being very PC here. I feel sorry for the sharks. But I have to admit that I lurvve my sharksfin soup!). We also had baby abalone (the kids had left the table to play outside the restaurant so I got at least 4 helpings!! Can you tell that gluttony is a major sin with me?) .
Dinner finally over, we headed home where the kids tried to stay awake so that KH and I could have long lives. I tried to chase them off to bed because I never wanted to live that long anyway - 70 is max for me. But they outlasted me, thanks to Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant cavorting on telly. I think I conked by 11pm. What does that mean for my mum 'n' dad??
Day 1
We did the tea ceremony thing. We do this every year where the kids would give us tea (we don't make them kneel!) stammer out their well-rehearsed New Year wishes and earn a red packet. This year we realised we ran out of chinese tea and had to make do with Liptons. To make a bit more authentic, we didn't add sugar - haha. I was really hungry 'cos the monsters woke up late (thanks to Sandra Bullock et al) and we had to scramble for time getting them dressed and ready. So we had the fastest tea ceremony ever - whizzing through all 5 twice! Had great steamed carrot cake for brekkie - it was damn good! Must ask Jessie where she got this cake.
After that, we went for mass. All looking very spiffy in our best of the best. After mass, we hit my mom's place where everyone oohed at Trin tottering around in her cute little red cheongsam. After a great lunch of my mom's all-time best - traditional Peranakan favourites like bakwan kepiting and ayam buah keluak, we hit the mahjong table. This year, my ship came in. Finally. After so many years of humiliating bankrupt defeat at the hands of my father, sister and brother, I finally, actually WON! Won big too! Woohoo!
After that, it was on to the in-laws. The kids had fun. We had - sigh - KFC and Pizza Hut!! Sacrilegious for CNY first day! So while the kids played and my ILs talked among themselves and played blackjack, I watched Harry Potter on telly. Daniel Radcliffe looked a lot cuter back then than he does now. In the commercial breaks, I whip out my Tokyo handbook and plot...You can tell: I was having the time of my life.
Day 2
Granny's place. The cousins and aunties etc were all there. We ate well for lunch - my aunt cooked her own buah keluak, mum contributed chap-chye and another aunt gave tempura prawns with wasabi-mayo dip (very yum!). Dessert was konnyaku jelly (which women in my antenatal class will never view with the same enthusiasm again after I described the bloody show using that analogy) and American carrot cake - sinfully good with a thick coat of cream cheese on top!
Headed for a good friend's place after that - where we were once again plied with food - great beehoon with bak-kut teh, a lusciously creamy thick royal choc cake, eclairs and the usual CNY goodies. After the kids sang their way through two-thirds of High School Musical, played 8 rounds of computer games, and collected their red packets, we left. KH took the kids to his sister's place while I took Trin and headed for mum's. One more triumphant round of mahjong where I actually made some serious money. Brilliant!
Day 3
Breakfast at McDonalds. The kids clamoured for cousin-time but I was not having any of it. Three days of the ILs was more than enough. After that, we left the kids at home and went to a movie. Protege. Great movie. I thought Andy Lau bore more than a passing resemblance to KH thanks to his salt n pepper cropped hairstyle. Thought Daniel Wu was quite cute too. But he looked too much like Andre Yeo (a reporter friend who works with The New Paper) for me to think he's hot!
The movie was good. Well-paced. Interesting characterisation.
For me, the key figure in the whole movie was not Andy Lau's drug boss or Daniel Wu's mole role. It was the little girl. The cute, plump little girl who was the daughter of the drug addict. The scene where she came across her mother, slumped in an armchair in a drug-induced bliss, and nonchalantly pulled out the syringe still in her mother's arm to throw it into a wastebin filled with drug paraphernalia - that said it all. When I saw that, I immediately missed my babes. It made me want to run home and give them a hug, to protect them and try my best not to screw them up for life.
The child was really the centre of it all - it was heartbreaking. Watching her, I have no doubt that these same scenes are being played out all over the world - children who see their parents shoot up, watch while their mothers prostitute themselves for money to nurture a drug habit, or see their parents die from an overdose. What does she think of it all? What goes through her mind as she lives like this? The movie does not say. The little girl just looks stoic, never complaining or making any judgement or observation. Perhaps it is normal to her. Its just really sad to me.
And then you contrast it with Andy Lau's family - the druglord with a pregnant wife, two children. They grow up wanting nothing - a typical well-to-do family. Only thing is, daddy deals drugs. He's just a businessman with a product to sell. He doesn't believe in the stuff. Despises the addicts. Insists they have choices, denies any responsibility for their choices. But in the end, I guess you can't divorce yourself from taint of drugs. When things came crashing down, his family suffered too. It was sad and painful to watch. Nobody wins. I like movies like these - no clear-cut heroes or baddies. Just very real, human roles playing out tragedies that also do happen in real life.
I left the cinema disturbed and thoughtful. Thinking not only about the drug situation, but also about parenting. So much for a start to the new year!
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Sale fever strikes BIG-TIME
Not normally a shopaholic - ok, I admit: a borderline one. But after yesterday, even I can acknowledge that I went a leetle nuts in Tangs. And that, I promise, marked my personal limit over a spree that started some days ago.
The Island Shop was having 50 - 70% discounts off last season's clothes and 20 - 30% off new arrivals. My mouth practically watered as I scanned the colourful racks and bins of clothes. So I bought a colourful spaghetti strap long dress for Caitlin. Very Caribbean. Actually Caitlin emerged the winner in this. She also got a pair of green knickerbockers (very cute!), a baby doll top, and a pristine white dress with crochetted lace trims. Isaac got a pair of surfer shorts and a a pair charcoal drawstring linen pants. I got a nice earth-tone print caftan top. Gillian got a peasant flounce skirt.
Two days before that, I bought two sleeping bags for Trinity and one very cute teeny-tiny red cheong-sum! I also er, rewarded myself with a tie-dyed long skirt from Una at Marks and Spencers, a cowl-necked barley top and a long brown skirt also from M&S. We also bought Gillian and Cait winter jackets for the Japan trip (I know, I know... it's still yonks to go, but things were ON SALE!!)
And before that, I went for a haircut at Shunji, treated myself to a nice tekka-don lunch at Akashi at Paragon and bought er, several new books. Just recently, I also ordered two hotslings from a lady on the alternative_parenting list. She's coming back from Canada and I just could NOT resist the hotslings prints. One for me and one for my buddy Gayle! Yummy!
So I await my credit card bill with dread...
Cute afternote from the Tangs spree. I came home, gleefully displayed my goodies, Caitlin happily pirouetting away and Owain mournfully says: "Mum, its not fair. How come you buy Ning-ning so many dresses and you never buy one for me!!"
Had to break the truth gently: "Son, you're a boy. I'm sorry to tell you that boys don't wear fun stuff like dresses."
But that made me remember: I have not bought him any New Year clothes! Yay! Or I mean... arrgh!
Not normally a shopaholic - ok, I admit: a borderline one. But after yesterday, even I can acknowledge that I went a leetle nuts in Tangs. And that, I promise, marked my personal limit over a spree that started some days ago.
The Island Shop was having 50 - 70% discounts off last season's clothes and 20 - 30% off new arrivals. My mouth practically watered as I scanned the colourful racks and bins of clothes. So I bought a colourful spaghetti strap long dress for Caitlin. Very Caribbean. Actually Caitlin emerged the winner in this. She also got a pair of green knickerbockers (very cute!), a baby doll top, and a pristine white dress with crochetted lace trims. Isaac got a pair of surfer shorts and a a pair charcoal drawstring linen pants. I got a nice earth-tone print caftan top. Gillian got a peasant flounce skirt.
Two days before that, I bought two sleeping bags for Trinity and one very cute teeny-tiny red cheong-sum! I also er, rewarded myself with a tie-dyed long skirt from Una at Marks and Spencers, a cowl-necked barley top and a long brown skirt also from M&S. We also bought Gillian and Cait winter jackets for the Japan trip (I know, I know... it's still yonks to go, but things were ON SALE!!)
And before that, I went for a haircut at Shunji, treated myself to a nice tekka-don lunch at Akashi at Paragon and bought er, several new books. Just recently, I also ordered two hotslings from a lady on the alternative_parenting list. She's coming back from Canada and I just could NOT resist the hotslings prints. One for me and one for my buddy Gayle! Yummy!
So I await my credit card bill with dread...
Cute afternote from the Tangs spree. I came home, gleefully displayed my goodies, Caitlin happily pirouetting away and Owain mournfully says: "Mum, its not fair. How come you buy Ning-ning so many dresses and you never buy one for me!!"
Had to break the truth gently: "Son, you're a boy. I'm sorry to tell you that boys don't wear fun stuff like dresses."
But that made me remember: I have not bought him any New Year clothes! Yay! Or I mean... arrgh!
Top10 lines most frequently used by ME
In no particular order. All are equally frequent in usage. Tone varies.
1) "No." Usually made in response to requests for TV, DVDs, computer games, gummy bears, chocolates, bread before dinner, more allowance, hamsters for pets and Maggi mee breakfasts. But can be used for many, many other purposes and occasions.
2) "Yes." Usually made in response to the "Do I have to..." question
3) "Because I say so." usually made in response to the "But WHY do I have to..." question. Sometimes alternates with "Because I am your only mother."
4) "I don't care if you like it or not. Just do it."
5) "Have you done your homework?"
6) "Did you do this??"
7) "Pick up your clothes/toys/crayons/magic pens/paper NOW."
8) "STOP!" usually followed by: "You're killing/suffocating/squashing/hurting him/her/it!" Can occasionally be followed by: "I don't want to hear it."
9) "Wait." "Not now." and "Later." Used interchangeably.
10) "Stop whining!RIGHT NOW."
"QUIET!!" is also a big one with me. Usually yelled in the car when four or five voices are piping up at the same time. And usually when I am (a) hungry and grumpy (b) looking at not-very-accurate maps in a foreign country (c) trying to listen to that song from the 80s on the radio which I lurve and had not heard for 20 years (d) hungry, grumpy AND browsing the makansutra while fielding off demands for McDonalds and (e) when KH and I are trying to hold an adult conversation about the sandwiched middle class (that's us!) and the widening income gap. Or something like that.
In no particular order. All are equally frequent in usage. Tone varies.
1) "No." Usually made in response to requests for TV, DVDs, computer games, gummy bears, chocolates, bread before dinner, more allowance, hamsters for pets and Maggi mee breakfasts. But can be used for many, many other purposes and occasions.
2) "Yes." Usually made in response to the "Do I have to..." question
3) "Because I say so." usually made in response to the "But WHY do I have to..." question. Sometimes alternates with "Because I am your only mother."
4) "I don't care if you like it or not. Just do it."
5) "Have you done your homework?"
6) "Did you do this??"
7) "Pick up your clothes/toys/crayons/magic pens/paper NOW."
8) "STOP!" usually followed by: "You're killing/suffocating/squashing/hurting him/her/it!" Can occasionally be followed by: "I don't want to hear it."
9) "Wait." "Not now." and "Later." Used interchangeably.
10) "Stop whining!RIGHT NOW."
"QUIET!!" is also a big one with me. Usually yelled in the car when four or five voices are piping up at the same time. And usually when I am (a) hungry and grumpy (b) looking at not-very-accurate maps in a foreign country (c) trying to listen to that song from the 80s on the radio which I lurve and had not heard for 20 years (d) hungry, grumpy AND browsing the makansutra while fielding off demands for McDonalds and (e) when KH and I are trying to hold an adult conversation about the sandwiched middle class (that's us!) and the widening income gap. Or something like that.
Top 10 most commonly used lines in Riangland
By my children. Not in any order of merit:
1) "Orhhhhh, I'll tell mummy!" (and mind you, its always mummy - never daddy. These days I deflect this by saying: uh-huh... now go tell daddy!)
2) "It's NOT fair!" interchanges with "How come she/he ALWAYS gets to...??"
3) "Can I watch TV?"
4) "Can I have nen-nen?? Please, mummy, please... Only a lil bit, only a short while, I promise!!!"
5) "You ALWAYS..." and "You NEVER..."
6) "Can we go to the playground??"
7) "Can I go pee?" or "I need to pee." All watery and solid waste bodily functions are routinely announced by all the children except Gillian. Even at the dinner table. Yes, I know... this is gross.
8) "Can you read this book to me?" A child will hold up said book. But because there are so many of them, sometimes they do the bait and switch. As soon as we finish one, they'd whip out another and another child will use this same line. In any one night, we can read up to 2 to 3 books per child. This of course, excludes Gillian, Isaac and baby Trin. Gillian does not like reading and tries to avoid books like vampires avoid garlic. Isaac reads by himself (thank God!!). Baby Trinity does not care what is read as long as she gets to eat the book. For parents with a large brood, take a hint: master the art of summary - it will help you get your life back.
9) "But WHY???" or "Why NOT???" or "Do we have to...??"
10) "Mu-ummy, XXX (fill in name of child) kicked/hit/punched/sat on/pushed/pinched/spat on/wrestled with YYY and now YYY is crying! Can you scold him/her please?" Usually its the girls who do the reporting - unless they are the ones involved in the action. But occasionally, I'd get this from Owain, usually accusing his gor-gor of some heinous crime.
By my children. Not in any order of merit:
1) "Orhhhhh, I'll tell mummy!" (and mind you, its always mummy - never daddy. These days I deflect this by saying: uh-huh... now go tell daddy!)
2) "It's NOT fair!" interchanges with "How come she/he ALWAYS gets to...??"
3) "Can I watch TV?"
4) "Can I have nen-nen?? Please, mummy, please... Only a lil bit, only a short while, I promise!!!"
5) "You ALWAYS..." and "You NEVER..."
6) "Can we go to the playground??"
7) "Can I go pee?" or "I need to pee." All watery and solid waste bodily functions are routinely announced by all the children except Gillian. Even at the dinner table. Yes, I know... this is gross.
8) "Can you read this book to me?" A child will hold up said book. But because there are so many of them, sometimes they do the bait and switch. As soon as we finish one, they'd whip out another and another child will use this same line. In any one night, we can read up to 2 to 3 books per child. This of course, excludes Gillian, Isaac and baby Trin. Gillian does not like reading and tries to avoid books like vampires avoid garlic. Isaac reads by himself (thank God!!). Baby Trinity does not care what is read as long as she gets to eat the book. For parents with a large brood, take a hint: master the art of summary - it will help you get your life back.
9) "But WHY???" or "Why NOT???" or "Do we have to...??"
10) "Mu-ummy, XXX (fill in name of child) kicked/hit/punched/sat on/pushed/pinched/spat on/wrestled with YYY and now YYY is crying! Can you scold him/her please?" Usually its the girls who do the reporting - unless they are the ones involved in the action. But occasionally, I'd get this from Owain, usually accusing his gor-gor of some heinous crime.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Isaac came in second!!
Took leave to see Isaac in action.
He was the finals of the swimming carnival. Not because he qualified in the trials but by default because there were too few swimmers in the backstroke event to hold a trial.
He was excited and nervous and kept close to me. I had brought paper, calculator and guidebook, hoping to use the waiting time before his event to do some trip planning.
I did not factor in the entertainment factor.
Around me were parents who were not just there to cheer their sons on, but who were dead serious about the whole thing. I saw one family - mother and father and son all wearing the same tee-shirt that proclaimed: Bryan Lim at the back. Now that's support for you. Another boy was wearing a professional warm-up suit etc. I saw one father ticking off his son, shaking a finger to bring home the point: You know why he pulled ahead of you?? Because of how you dived from the starter's blocks. I told you so many times NOT to... blah, blah, blah... and the son, wet from the pool, listened intently and nodded. It was all so serious. KH told me that during the heats he saw one elderly grandfather bellowing at the swimming grandson, his voice echoing through the swimming complex. "SWIM! FASTER!! SWIM YOUR BLOODY GUTS OUT! COME ONNNNNNN!!" he bellowed. His face was beet red and KH thought he was going to stroke out.
I felt most negligent as a parent after seeing all this. I just told Isaac: Oi, just do your best okay?
I had no illusions: my son was not likely to finish numero uno, scrawny little guy that he is. But I was happy that he was taking part, feeling the heat of competition and just getting the whole experience of competing.
The P2 event was the funniest. The little guys lined up and jumped in when the horn blew. But it was a false start so the whistle was blown sharply to stop the race. No one heard. At least, no one in the pool heard. And if they did, they didn't care! They were swimming hell-bent for leather. The spectators, parents, teachers, boys all yelled and gestured at the swimmers to STOP, STOP NOW... no use, the boys kept going on all cylinders! The lifeguard even lowered the line of buoys in the middle of the pool. But no, nothing was stopping them. They swam all the way to the finish! Hee...
After waiting, Isaac's event came up. He was the smallest of the lot. The other P5 swimmers who big strapping boys. Isaac looked like half their size. He sat there in the sun, waiting for his event to be called. I have picture of him making the sign of the cross in prayer!
There were 6 swimmers. The four winners were the big strappy boys. I later learnt that they were national swimmers - ah so!!
Isaac and the other scrawny guy were the last two of the lot. The gap was more than half the length of the pool. I noticed that his stroke was odd - he was competing in the backstroke but his legs were going frog-style and instead of swimming one arm cleaving through the water at a time, he was going with BOTH arms over and under! I don't know what kind of a stroke that is but it is nothing recognisable. It was a parental slap-the-forehead moment. Sigh.
Still, he was not last - he came in second-last!
Initially, he looked depressed when he came up to me after the race, but I gave him a hug, reminded him that he did his best and I was proud of that. Then I mentioned that he was 2nd last and his face brightened.
To cheer him up, we went to Borders where I got him a book and we had sushi for lunch.
Not bad for a 2nd-last placing eh?
Took leave to see Isaac in action.
He was the finals of the swimming carnival. Not because he qualified in the trials but by default because there were too few swimmers in the backstroke event to hold a trial.
He was excited and nervous and kept close to me. I had brought paper, calculator and guidebook, hoping to use the waiting time before his event to do some trip planning.
I did not factor in the entertainment factor.
Around me were parents who were not just there to cheer their sons on, but who were dead serious about the whole thing. I saw one family - mother and father and son all wearing the same tee-shirt that proclaimed: Bryan Lim at the back. Now that's support for you. Another boy was wearing a professional warm-up suit etc. I saw one father ticking off his son, shaking a finger to bring home the point: You know why he pulled ahead of you?? Because of how you dived from the starter's blocks. I told you so many times NOT to... blah, blah, blah... and the son, wet from the pool, listened intently and nodded. It was all so serious. KH told me that during the heats he saw one elderly grandfather bellowing at the swimming grandson, his voice echoing through the swimming complex. "SWIM! FASTER!! SWIM YOUR BLOODY GUTS OUT! COME ONNNNNNN!!" he bellowed. His face was beet red and KH thought he was going to stroke out.
I felt most negligent as a parent after seeing all this. I just told Isaac: Oi, just do your best okay?
I had no illusions: my son was not likely to finish numero uno, scrawny little guy that he is. But I was happy that he was taking part, feeling the heat of competition and just getting the whole experience of competing.
The P2 event was the funniest. The little guys lined up and jumped in when the horn blew. But it was a false start so the whistle was blown sharply to stop the race. No one heard. At least, no one in the pool heard. And if they did, they didn't care! They were swimming hell-bent for leather. The spectators, parents, teachers, boys all yelled and gestured at the swimmers to STOP, STOP NOW... no use, the boys kept going on all cylinders! The lifeguard even lowered the line of buoys in the middle of the pool. But no, nothing was stopping them. They swam all the way to the finish! Hee...
After waiting, Isaac's event came up. He was the smallest of the lot. The other P5 swimmers who big strapping boys. Isaac looked like half their size. He sat there in the sun, waiting for his event to be called. I have picture of him making the sign of the cross in prayer!
There were 6 swimmers. The four winners were the big strappy boys. I later learnt that they were national swimmers - ah so!!
Isaac and the other scrawny guy were the last two of the lot. The gap was more than half the length of the pool. I noticed that his stroke was odd - he was competing in the backstroke but his legs were going frog-style and instead of swimming one arm cleaving through the water at a time, he was going with BOTH arms over and under! I don't know what kind of a stroke that is but it is nothing recognisable. It was a parental slap-the-forehead moment. Sigh.
Still, he was not last - he came in second-last!
Initially, he looked depressed when he came up to me after the race, but I gave him a hug, reminded him that he did his best and I was proud of that. Then I mentioned that he was 2nd last and his face brightened.
To cheer him up, we went to Borders where I got him a book and we had sushi for lunch.
Not bad for a 2nd-last placing eh?
Happy anniversary
Last Thursday, KH and I celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary. The day started a little better than the usual. I was given a kiss as he left for work. These days his kisses are reserved for the babies - he would unfailingly kiss every one of them but miss his wife. When I complain, he protested: kissing the babies means you get kissed by default too. Huh??
Anyway, I am not complaining. So I got a rare smack on the cheek and saw him disappearing through the bedroom door.
Went about the usual day's routine, picked Ning up from school,did a bit of shopping, came home and waited for him to finish work.
We could not decide where to go and eat, and dithered a bit before deciding that we would have all the kids come along with us. Flashback to last year when he suggested that the kids come along, we ended up having sushi at genki sushi. I was pretty offended that he could not even have a simple dinner with ME etc and that he had to bring everyone along, what was so special about the occasion then??
This year, I was the one who said let's bring the kids. So we all, including Lolita, piled into the car. I suggested steak at the wagon wheel in greenwood avenue but because the radiator was leaking and temp alarmingly high, we had to go nearer home. Finally settled at Uno Beef House at Blk 51 Toa Payoh Lor 5.
It had great reviews from the Straits Times. We ordered the rib-eye on a hot plate and were not disappointed. The beef was tender and the potato croquette was soft and milky. The kids had steak and chicken chop. Dinner was punctuated by me taking Owain to the nearest bush to fertilise it when he needed to go - yes, trying to wean off diapers.
After dinner, we wanted to head to Toa Payoh garden but found it cordoned off for renovations. So we went home.
And thus was 15 years of marriage celebrated. Over a steak in a HDB coffeeshop, surrounded by 5 kids who were alternately (a) reading while eating (b) fighting over drinks (c) asking to go pee.
It was an extraordinary occasion, but celebrated like an ordinary day. That's exactly like life and how I think it should be. The lines between the extraordinary and the ordinary should be blurred more often.
Last Thursday, KH and I celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary. The day started a little better than the usual. I was given a kiss as he left for work. These days his kisses are reserved for the babies - he would unfailingly kiss every one of them but miss his wife. When I complain, he protested: kissing the babies means you get kissed by default too. Huh??
Anyway, I am not complaining. So I got a rare smack on the cheek and saw him disappearing through the bedroom door.
Went about the usual day's routine, picked Ning up from school,did a bit of shopping, came home and waited for him to finish work.
We could not decide where to go and eat, and dithered a bit before deciding that we would have all the kids come along with us. Flashback to last year when he suggested that the kids come along, we ended up having sushi at genki sushi. I was pretty offended that he could not even have a simple dinner with ME etc and that he had to bring everyone along, what was so special about the occasion then??
This year, I was the one who said let's bring the kids. So we all, including Lolita, piled into the car. I suggested steak at the wagon wheel in greenwood avenue but because the radiator was leaking and temp alarmingly high, we had to go nearer home. Finally settled at Uno Beef House at Blk 51 Toa Payoh Lor 5.
It had great reviews from the Straits Times. We ordered the rib-eye on a hot plate and were not disappointed. The beef was tender and the potato croquette was soft and milky. The kids had steak and chicken chop. Dinner was punctuated by me taking Owain to the nearest bush to fertilise it when he needed to go - yes, trying to wean off diapers.
After dinner, we wanted to head to Toa Payoh garden but found it cordoned off for renovations. So we went home.
And thus was 15 years of marriage celebrated. Over a steak in a HDB coffeeshop, surrounded by 5 kids who were alternately (a) reading while eating (b) fighting over drinks (c) asking to go pee.
It was an extraordinary occasion, but celebrated like an ordinary day. That's exactly like life and how I think it should be. The lines between the extraordinary and the ordinary should be blurred more often.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
The Berlin Wall in Riang... well, sort of...
Been living in Riang for almost 10 years now. We've had our share of good neighbours and bad. Cory was writing in her blog about neighbours who don't smile at her. I told her she's lucky it stops there.
Neighbour on the left (the other corner terrace) is an old couple. Uncle Chan and his wife have owned their house since they bought it from the developers yonks ago. Living next to them is his brother and his wife. The two couples could not be more different. But both are very friendly and nice.
Neighbour in front is a Sikh family. Jack, as he wants to be known, is a friendly guy who putts away on his little scooter every morning. His scooter, car and house number are the same - 57. They have two children who are pretty grown-up already. If we meet, we usually exchange greetings and chat. Jack is also on the RC and so a useful source of feedback.
Then we have neighbour on the right - who is a real piece of work.
Honestly, KH and I have never been able to figure out what this guy's problem is. We have racked our brains countless times to figure out where or how or in what past life we may have offended him. Its still a mystery to us.
But from day one when we moved in, the animosity began. Oh we never had the big bang spats like in Everitt Road (except once), but things have always been chilly and its really the little things that prick.
Smiles would be met with sour faces. "Hi" goes unanswered. When Isaac and Gillian (then 3 and 4 years old)called out: "Hello uncle!" the reply is usually a grunt or no reply at all. Our helper was told not to hang our fern on the common fence because the water from the fern would drip into their side. When we had BBQs and hung the trash bag on the common fence, we were told to remove it. In contrast, we could do so on our common fence with Uncle Chan with no objections at all. When we came back late and had to carry sleeping kids from the car to the house, we would stop the car in front of our gate, leave the engine running, grab the kids and put them in the house. The neighbour would come out with a scowl and tell us to move the car. When the kids play and climb on the common wall, they were scolded and told not to touch the wall. Eventually, the said party wall was bricked up - by them. They did not tell us or ask if we wanted to share the cost or ask the contractor to smoothen/paint our side. We came home one day from work to find a worker bricking up the wall, leaving an unsightly extension of brick and cement on our side.
Things finally came to a head one morning several years ago when we were about to leave for a Malacca holiday. I was upstairs getting some last-minute stuff when I heard shouting. I went down to find KH and said neighbour yelling at each other. The other neighbours had also come out to see the commotion. Apparently, KH had parked his car across from their house. He was clearing the car and took the floor mats to dust against the lamp-post. Lamp post was in front of their house. That man got offended, marched out and yelled at KH. KH lost it and yelled back. And pretty soon, there was a yelling match going on. When I came out, neighbour's wife had joined the fray yelling something like: don't talk to these people! They are low-class uneducated people from china! Huh???? If she only knew how bad my Mandarin was, she would not insult Chinese nationals like that!
I can laugh it off now, but back then, there was Tension in the air... and both KH and I were fuming mad. We could not understand why a couple, who obviously think they are 'educated' enough, can just hit the roof over something like that and more importantly, why they just let little things whittle away at neighbourliness and common courtesy over the years.
Since then, and esply after they built the Berlin wall, we have avoided all contact. We have told the kids not to play ball/badminton etc and risk having their ball/shuttercocks go over the Berlin wall. Sometimes these things do happen. Either the kids, armed with laundry poles, head for their front gate and try to prod the object over to retrieve, or we just wait. Somewhere in the next morning, we would find said object in our front garden. There is no point pressing the doorbell to ask politely - the kids have been yelled at.
Still, I am an optimist - at least they throw it back!
Been living in Riang for almost 10 years now. We've had our share of good neighbours and bad. Cory was writing in her blog about neighbours who don't smile at her. I told her she's lucky it stops there.
Neighbour on the left (the other corner terrace) is an old couple. Uncle Chan and his wife have owned their house since they bought it from the developers yonks ago. Living next to them is his brother and his wife. The two couples could not be more different. But both are very friendly and nice.
Neighbour in front is a Sikh family. Jack, as he wants to be known, is a friendly guy who putts away on his little scooter every morning. His scooter, car and house number are the same - 57. They have two children who are pretty grown-up already. If we meet, we usually exchange greetings and chat. Jack is also on the RC and so a useful source of feedback.
Then we have neighbour on the right - who is a real piece of work.
Honestly, KH and I have never been able to figure out what this guy's problem is. We have racked our brains countless times to figure out where or how or in what past life we may have offended him. Its still a mystery to us.
But from day one when we moved in, the animosity began. Oh we never had the big bang spats like in Everitt Road (except once), but things have always been chilly and its really the little things that prick.
Smiles would be met with sour faces. "Hi" goes unanswered. When Isaac and Gillian (then 3 and 4 years old)called out: "Hello uncle!" the reply is usually a grunt or no reply at all. Our helper was told not to hang our fern on the common fence because the water from the fern would drip into their side. When we had BBQs and hung the trash bag on the common fence, we were told to remove it. In contrast, we could do so on our common fence with Uncle Chan with no objections at all. When we came back late and had to carry sleeping kids from the car to the house, we would stop the car in front of our gate, leave the engine running, grab the kids and put them in the house. The neighbour would come out with a scowl and tell us to move the car. When the kids play and climb on the common wall, they were scolded and told not to touch the wall. Eventually, the said party wall was bricked up - by them. They did not tell us or ask if we wanted to share the cost or ask the contractor to smoothen/paint our side. We came home one day from work to find a worker bricking up the wall, leaving an unsightly extension of brick and cement on our side.
Things finally came to a head one morning several years ago when we were about to leave for a Malacca holiday. I was upstairs getting some last-minute stuff when I heard shouting. I went down to find KH and said neighbour yelling at each other. The other neighbours had also come out to see the commotion. Apparently, KH had parked his car across from their house. He was clearing the car and took the floor mats to dust against the lamp-post. Lamp post was in front of their house. That man got offended, marched out and yelled at KH. KH lost it and yelled back. And pretty soon, there was a yelling match going on. When I came out, neighbour's wife had joined the fray yelling something like: don't talk to these people! They are low-class uneducated people from china! Huh???? If she only knew how bad my Mandarin was, she would not insult Chinese nationals like that!
I can laugh it off now, but back then, there was Tension in the air... and both KH and I were fuming mad. We could not understand why a couple, who obviously think they are 'educated' enough, can just hit the roof over something like that and more importantly, why they just let little things whittle away at neighbourliness and common courtesy over the years.
Since then, and esply after they built the Berlin wall, we have avoided all contact. We have told the kids not to play ball/badminton etc and risk having their ball/shuttercocks go over the Berlin wall. Sometimes these things do happen. Either the kids, armed with laundry poles, head for their front gate and try to prod the object over to retrieve, or we just wait. Somewhere in the next morning, we would find said object in our front garden. There is no point pressing the doorbell to ask politely - the kids have been yelled at.
Still, I am an optimist - at least they throw it back!
Monday, February 05, 2007
Mothers who sling... wrongly!
Some weeks ago, ST Urban did a story on baby carriers, with slings (MIM slings!) taking a nice big picture. I thought it was high time someone did a story like that. However, I also felt that they did not do justice to the story. For instance, there was hardly any mention of how slinging mimics the womb environment - so important for baby's early adjustment to the world, and something that no other baby carrier can do!
Also, there are so many slings and pouches available now with so many different types of fabrics and styles. It could and should become not only a baby carrier but a fashion statement for fashionista moms. But the article did not address this - disappointing for a lifestyle newspaper like Urban.
I'm not a fashionista mom, but at last count, I own seven slings (lost one due to carelessness!), one pouch and one wrap. KH always gives me a warning glare everytime I coo about nice slings.
I am a sling convert. My sling journey mirrors my breastfeeding journey. It started with Caitlin and for her, she only used the sling when she was 5 months old and could sit upright in the sling because I was too scared to use the sling when she was a newborn. By the time Owain came along, he was slung from day 1. And as for Trin, she was slung and pouched (thanks to Lulu!) all the way to Australia barely 3 weeks old when I went there for the birth workshops.
If only the ST Urban reporter could have done a more indepth story on the different types of slings there are in the market - showing the sling as a fashion item! I love the slings for their convenience and their colours and fabrics.
The MIM these days is moving onto very very nice prints - still drooling for the new lightweight cotton print ones! The Maya and the Ella Roo wraps/pouches come in very lovely colours and prints. Sadly my Ella Roo is still unused because I am not confident in wrapping and re-wrapping the long cloth in public. I must do this at least once though, before Trin or Owain gets too big. Maybe the Japan trip is a good time to try - but with multiple rehearsals first!
Someone asked if I will be bringing a stroller to Japan - not likely!! If you think I am going to lug a stroller up and down the Japanese rail and subway system, you can think again! Give me a sling anyday and I can go anywhere.
I see more and more women using the sling. But most of them are using it incorrectly. I see slings bunched up at the shoulders and the neck! Or slings whose rings are halfway down the chest! Then I see women holding their babies in the slings but still carrying them while the sling sits loosely around the baby - so they are not slinging the baby but carrying the baby with an extra piece of cloth!
And this one takes the cake: I saw a baby sitting precariously in the sling, *straddling* the fabric, almost half falling out of it! I almost wanted to stop the mother and tell her. But KH said I should just mind my own business. The couple were Chinese nationals and my Chinese was not fantastic - plus they may not appreciate me telling them what to do! Barely a few minutes later I saw Nanz Chong-Komo carrying her baby in the sling - an MIM sling - but alas with the sling all bunched up near the neck and inner shoulder. Also salah! I was wearing my Maya sling and she sort of smiled at me. I didn't recognise her at first - it was KH who whispered to me who she was - but I felt like I should have told her. Maybe she would take it well??
Each time I see this, I feel an overwhelming urge to tell them they are doing it wrongly and show them how to do it right.
I once went out with Lulu and when we saw a woman whose sling was twisted at the back, she had no qualms about walking up to her and telling her and giving a free sling lesson. But me? I am not so confident. I don't know if they will take my advice well or see me as an interfering crackpot.
Still, I think every mom should have at least ONE baseline sling - a good cotton MIM that they can learn to use. And when they are more confident, they can 'graduate' to the silk MIMs or go for a Maya/Ella Roo. I also think the importance of the sling - and using it correctly - cannot be overemphasised. Perhaps even discussed in antenatal classes. I intend to do so for mine - especially the bit about newborn security, the rocking effect etc.
But the question still remains - the next time I see a woman with a poorly-used sling - should I tell her? And if so, what's a good opening line? Or should I just keep my big mouth shut?
Some weeks ago, ST Urban did a story on baby carriers, with slings (MIM slings!) taking a nice big picture. I thought it was high time someone did a story like that. However, I also felt that they did not do justice to the story. For instance, there was hardly any mention of how slinging mimics the womb environment - so important for baby's early adjustment to the world, and something that no other baby carrier can do!
Also, there are so many slings and pouches available now with so many different types of fabrics and styles. It could and should become not only a baby carrier but a fashion statement for fashionista moms. But the article did not address this - disappointing for a lifestyle newspaper like Urban.
I'm not a fashionista mom, but at last count, I own seven slings (lost one due to carelessness!), one pouch and one wrap. KH always gives me a warning glare everytime I coo about nice slings.
I am a sling convert. My sling journey mirrors my breastfeeding journey. It started with Caitlin and for her, she only used the sling when she was 5 months old and could sit upright in the sling because I was too scared to use the sling when she was a newborn. By the time Owain came along, he was slung from day 1. And as for Trin, she was slung and pouched (thanks to Lulu!) all the way to Australia barely 3 weeks old when I went there for the birth workshops.
If only the ST Urban reporter could have done a more indepth story on the different types of slings there are in the market - showing the sling as a fashion item! I love the slings for their convenience and their colours and fabrics.
The MIM these days is moving onto very very nice prints - still drooling for the new lightweight cotton print ones! The Maya and the Ella Roo wraps/pouches come in very lovely colours and prints. Sadly my Ella Roo is still unused because I am not confident in wrapping and re-wrapping the long cloth in public. I must do this at least once though, before Trin or Owain gets too big. Maybe the Japan trip is a good time to try - but with multiple rehearsals first!
Someone asked if I will be bringing a stroller to Japan - not likely!! If you think I am going to lug a stroller up and down the Japanese rail and subway system, you can think again! Give me a sling anyday and I can go anywhere.
I see more and more women using the sling. But most of them are using it incorrectly. I see slings bunched up at the shoulders and the neck! Or slings whose rings are halfway down the chest! Then I see women holding their babies in the slings but still carrying them while the sling sits loosely around the baby - so they are not slinging the baby but carrying the baby with an extra piece of cloth!
And this one takes the cake: I saw a baby sitting precariously in the sling, *straddling* the fabric, almost half falling out of it! I almost wanted to stop the mother and tell her. But KH said I should just mind my own business. The couple were Chinese nationals and my Chinese was not fantastic - plus they may not appreciate me telling them what to do! Barely a few minutes later I saw Nanz Chong-Komo carrying her baby in the sling - an MIM sling - but alas with the sling all bunched up near the neck and inner shoulder. Also salah! I was wearing my Maya sling and she sort of smiled at me. I didn't recognise her at first - it was KH who whispered to me who she was - but I felt like I should have told her. Maybe she would take it well??
Each time I see this, I feel an overwhelming urge to tell them they are doing it wrongly and show them how to do it right.
I once went out with Lulu and when we saw a woman whose sling was twisted at the back, she had no qualms about walking up to her and telling her and giving a free sling lesson. But me? I am not so confident. I don't know if they will take my advice well or see me as an interfering crackpot.
Still, I think every mom should have at least ONE baseline sling - a good cotton MIM that they can learn to use. And when they are more confident, they can 'graduate' to the silk MIMs or go for a Maya/Ella Roo. I also think the importance of the sling - and using it correctly - cannot be overemphasised. Perhaps even discussed in antenatal classes. I intend to do so for mine - especially the bit about newborn security, the rocking effect etc.
But the question still remains - the next time I see a woman with a poorly-used sling - should I tell her? And if so, what's a good opening line? Or should I just keep my big mouth shut?
A walk in the park
Yesterday we were suddenly child-less. OK, not quite...
The four older kids went over to their cousins' house for the evening to play. Their aunt and cousins came over to pick them up. As the excited group left the house, you can hear the chatter and laughter leaving the house with them, growing fainter and fainter and then suddenly, all was silent. Wah... we had a few hours of noise-less bliss!
So KH and I decided to head for Botanic Gardens for an evening walk with Trin in the stroller. The park was lovely. Filled with couples and families, dogs, children, tourists. As usual, it always feels a bit strange going out with just one kid instead of the usual noisy brood. Took a while to get used to.
Watching the people and walking among them, it struck me that Singapore had become so international. And the Botanic Gardens is one place where everyone could find their space, and still feel as if they belonged to a community. Somehow, despite all the talk in the papers and the ST poll about foreigners and the "us versus them" mentality, this is one place where I think the differences, if any, are neutralised.
I picked up snatches of conversations in French (a family with a baby having a picnic on the lawn in Palm Valley), Japanese (another family observing the carps in the pond), Beijing-accented Mandarin (a couple taking a picture in front of a waterfall) and of course, the ubiquitous Singlish! We saw Malay women in their tudungs, ang-moh families with picnic baskets on the lawn, Indian nuclear families with babies in strollers. And the dogs - all breeds and sizes and colours!
Sitting down to nurse Trin on a bench above Palm Valley, we saw an eagle soaring high above the treetops, swooping and circling before coming to rest on a branch far away. Imagine - we have these huge birds (and it was huge - the wingspan must have been more than a metre judging from the size and the distance where we saw it) in the heart of the city. It was such a beautiful sight.
Singapore is changing so much. According to the press, we are now one of the best places to party. The numbers of foreigners picking Singapore to live and work in are growing and this came home to me last evening in the park.
The park itself has grown and changed. I'm glad the old lake with the island is still there, but sad that the iron-wrought gates that guarded the Holland Road entrance has gone. There are new vistas - a bold sweeping lawn from up the hill down to the old lake, dotted with big old trees, and old ones - taking a narrow lane bordered by tall hedges, we came out into the old rose garden. The centrepiece sundial was still there. As were the old, uneven brick pavements and steps.
Pausing to look uphill towards the old 1930s bandstand, the raintrees were gleaming yellow against the blue evening sky. Which led me to comment to KH: eh, no need to go to Japan to see autumn. We have it right here! If I took a photograph of this scene, with a bit of the modern glass roof (of the bonsai exhibits) in the scene, it would not look out of place in a Japanese park!
Walking through made me promise myself that I would one day come back, sans children, when they have grown up, with a good book and find a quiet corner in the park for some solitude. How nice it would be to curl up with a book on a bench in a leafy spot (ok, armed with mosquito repellent!). But almost immediately, the next thought that crossed my mind was: how lonely I will be then!! Especially when we saw so many families with little children playing, running, cycling...
After the park, we had dinner, went to NTUC for some very prosaic grocery shopping, then back home to a houseful of noisy kids. Gillian cheerfully telling me about her period - again! Isaac rolling his eyes and telling me that Cait was being a cry-baby and didn't want to bathe. Owain clamouring for - what else - nen-nen! Cait hugging my arm and saying that gor-gor and che-che were very rude to her... Yes, they were back! And with them, the noise too. But I was never more glad for the din...
Yesterday we were suddenly child-less. OK, not quite...
The four older kids went over to their cousins' house for the evening to play. Their aunt and cousins came over to pick them up. As the excited group left the house, you can hear the chatter and laughter leaving the house with them, growing fainter and fainter and then suddenly, all was silent. Wah... we had a few hours of noise-less bliss!
So KH and I decided to head for Botanic Gardens for an evening walk with Trin in the stroller. The park was lovely. Filled with couples and families, dogs, children, tourists. As usual, it always feels a bit strange going out with just one kid instead of the usual noisy brood. Took a while to get used to.
Watching the people and walking among them, it struck me that Singapore had become so international. And the Botanic Gardens is one place where everyone could find their space, and still feel as if they belonged to a community. Somehow, despite all the talk in the papers and the ST poll about foreigners and the "us versus them" mentality, this is one place where I think the differences, if any, are neutralised.
I picked up snatches of conversations in French (a family with a baby having a picnic on the lawn in Palm Valley), Japanese (another family observing the carps in the pond), Beijing-accented Mandarin (a couple taking a picture in front of a waterfall) and of course, the ubiquitous Singlish! We saw Malay women in their tudungs, ang-moh families with picnic baskets on the lawn, Indian nuclear families with babies in strollers. And the dogs - all breeds and sizes and colours!
Sitting down to nurse Trin on a bench above Palm Valley, we saw an eagle soaring high above the treetops, swooping and circling before coming to rest on a branch far away. Imagine - we have these huge birds (and it was huge - the wingspan must have been more than a metre judging from the size and the distance where we saw it) in the heart of the city. It was such a beautiful sight.
Singapore is changing so much. According to the press, we are now one of the best places to party. The numbers of foreigners picking Singapore to live and work in are growing and this came home to me last evening in the park.
The park itself has grown and changed. I'm glad the old lake with the island is still there, but sad that the iron-wrought gates that guarded the Holland Road entrance has gone. There are new vistas - a bold sweeping lawn from up the hill down to the old lake, dotted with big old trees, and old ones - taking a narrow lane bordered by tall hedges, we came out into the old rose garden. The centrepiece sundial was still there. As were the old, uneven brick pavements and steps.
Pausing to look uphill towards the old 1930s bandstand, the raintrees were gleaming yellow against the blue evening sky. Which led me to comment to KH: eh, no need to go to Japan to see autumn. We have it right here! If I took a photograph of this scene, with a bit of the modern glass roof (of the bonsai exhibits) in the scene, it would not look out of place in a Japanese park!
Walking through made me promise myself that I would one day come back, sans children, when they have grown up, with a good book and find a quiet corner in the park for some solitude. How nice it would be to curl up with a book on a bench in a leafy spot (ok, armed with mosquito repellent!). But almost immediately, the next thought that crossed my mind was: how lonely I will be then!! Especially when we saw so many families with little children playing, running, cycling...
After the park, we had dinner, went to NTUC for some very prosaic grocery shopping, then back home to a houseful of noisy kids. Gillian cheerfully telling me about her period - again! Isaac rolling his eyes and telling me that Cait was being a cry-baby and didn't want to bathe. Owain clamouring for - what else - nen-nen! Cait hugging my arm and saying that gor-gor and che-che were very rude to her... Yes, they were back! And with them, the noise too. But I was never more glad for the din...
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