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!!
Thursday, June 28, 2007
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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