Smart-mouth
Did I say that I'm deeply madly in love with my smart-mouthed fishball boy? He can give me such pert answers that stump me but gee, how my heart melts! The boy has me like putty in his hands sometimes.
On Sunday he and his sibs were arguing about the ball. It's mine, he insisted. Both balls in the house belong to him, he said. Squabble squabble squabble.
Tired of the whining and the arguing from both sides, I said share or else. Boy refused. So I eyed him in exasperation and said, since the ball is yours, and you don't want to share, you have to keep the ball with you ALL the time for the rest of the day. The minute I find the ball away from you, it's mine.
He good-naturedly agreed and for the rest of the day, kept the ball with him. But by evening time, his patience wore thin and he came to me as we were preparing to leave for dinner.
Mum, he went, a bit whiny. Could I leave the ball at home?
No. Its your ball remember?
But mu-uuuum...
He sulked for a bit and thought hard. Then he brightened, looked at me craftily and said: If this is my ball... then I can choose to do what I want with it right? ...And so I choose to leave it at home!
KH said he check-mated me lock stock and barrel.
When he's not being cheeky, he's so sweet. The other day Eileen called me and alerted me that Owain had burst into tears during dismissal for no known reason, and suggested that I check with him because he'd refused to tell the teachers.
I called home and asked him: are you alright?
He told me, quite matter-of-fact: Its okay, mum, I calmed down already from walking home from school.
So why did you cry?
Because, he said, it was Nathaniel's birthday and he had goodie bags. I asked for two bags, one for me and one for Trin and when dismissal time came, one bag was stolen!! Someone took Trin's bag! Thats why I cried.
Ah, but when he returned home, the goody bag was found in his school bag. Eileen had placed it there so that he would not lose it. Happy discovery!
It's so heartwarming to hear how thoughtful he can be for his pesky baby sister - even though she drives him bananas many times. According to Eileen, he always asks for two bags during parties, even when Trin is not in school. He can be such a giving, generous little soul. And lets not forget that whenever Trin cries in school, Owain would be the one she looks for and Owain would be the one sitting with her, patting her shoulder and telling her gently: its okay Trin, don't cry. Only when she stops and seems happy to be in class would he then slip away to his own class.
Oh and did I say the smartmouth already has decided that he wants to go to RI??? Few months ago when we were flipping through the book on secondary school choices, Owain spotted RI's table of achievements, which were of course dotted with many icons of achievement. He noticed that other schools had noticeably less and deduced that the one with 'more pictures' should be the best school around. He eagerly told his brother about this 'good school' and seemed visibly disappointed that Isaac's score could not get him in. And that was when he said that one day, he would go there. To which I said: over my dead body!
My smartmouth fishball... For now I can still hold him, he can still sit on my lap (fights with Trin over lap space!) and he still comes to me for his snuggles and cuddles and kisses. He happily gives me hugs and kisses, tells me I'm his best girl in the world. He thinks the world of me now. I wonder how long it will last. While I can't imagine a strapping man of 30 professing such love for his old mother, I do wish I could prolong these moments for as long as I can. He's growing so fast I'm already missing him.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
This is Trinity stroking Tigerlily. Tigs would just lie down and wait for a nice sayang session. She's very very manja! She's also very gentle with the kids, including Trin, who can be quite cheerfully rough with Tigs. I've told her not to pull the cat's tail and to stroke her gently but Trin sometimes forgets. Luckily Tigs is quite forgiving!
She's lying down waiting for me to sayang and instead I whip out my camera for a few shots!
I really like these few pictures of her. She looks so regal. At night she likes to hop up on the gatepost to just sit there staring out into the night, like some Egyptian hieroglyphic cat.
We've brought her to the vet which costs as much as an expensive paediatrician's visit. Apparently she's just over a year old, and considered an adult cat. The vet said she is in good general condition. We gave her her vax and a deworming tablet. But last night, dunno whether because she was traumatised because of her visit to the vet, she disappeared into the night the minute we came home and let her out of her carrier.
She was gone all of today too, which worried me greatly. I was fretting because of the loud caterwauling going on around my house area. From the sounds, I knew that a female was in heat and some mating was going on and I didn't want Tigs to mate before I could get her neutered.
Luckily, to our relief, she came home this evening, devoured her dinner then curled up on Gillian's bed for a nice long nap. While it would be nice to keep her indoors, I wonder if this would be cruel because her nature has always been to wander and she's been a street cat for so long.
Seems to feel like she's been a part of us for a really long time even though its really just been over a week. I guess that's how they grow on you. Even pet-averse KH has taken to sitting with her, discussing cat issues with me etc.
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Tigerlily - the beginning
We didn't choose Tigerlily. She chose us as her pet-family.
I've meant to post the following account of how Tigerlily came to be part of our family but didn't get round to it. Its been more than a month since she's joined our tribe. I wrote this the day after she came to us. Here's a look at how it all happened...
Yesterday I was on my way with Trin to see the speech therapist. As we stepped out from our gate, Trin pointed across the road and said: look, cat! Then she started making 'meow meow' sounds. Amazingly the cat responded with meows and came towards us. And I knew instinctively that this little animal wanted to come over for some stroking and cuddling.
So the cat came over to us and immediately lay on the ground, feet up, belly exposed and waited for us to stroke her! I've never seen cats behave like this before. I thought they were always haughty and standoffish but this little one was very friendly. It also did not seem wary of humans as I thought most strays would be.
We petted her for a while but as we stood up to leave, she stood up too and walked with us. So I tried backtracking into our garden, thinking that maybe she would be too wary to go into the grounds. But I was wrong. In she came, rolled over on the ground, Owain and Trin stroking and cooing in delight.
We really had to leave, so I carried Trin and went to the gate. The cat accompanied us but this time I kept on walking. After a while, the cat stopped several metres from my house and watched us go. Then it turned and went back in.
According to Lolita, the cat stayed in our house (or actually, the porch area) for several hours until Owain left for school and the house was locked up. We thought we'd seen the last of it, but not so. She (Lolita discovered it was a girl cat) came back in the evening. We didn't have cat food so we gave her bread from a curry bun and she finished everything.
The kids were thrilled, particularly Cait, who loved to spend hours outside with the cat just stroking it. Every once in a while, she would go out, sit outside, or sit on our ledge, but she would always come back and play and manja a bit. Even with me and KH, the cat would come, curl around our legs and mew. She didn't seem scared at all.
Occasionally, when she sat outside looking into the distance, I got the feeling that it was waiting for something/someone, sort of expecting somebody. Her stance looked watching and maybe even, a bit protective. It reminded me of the story in Neil Gaiman's book "Smoke and Mirrors". I read it sometime ago and that story really stuck with me. It was about a stray cat who battled nightly demons to protect its adopted human family. I remember liking it so much I made a photocopy of it and later on, bought the actual book. This little cat's watchful stance reminded me of this.
KH, who has always been resistant to the idea of any pets, seem won over or resigned to the fact that the cat seems to like us. But as I pointed out, we didn't choose it. It chose us. That's got to count for something right? Why did it choose us? And as KH jokingly said: "what on earth did Trin say to it! Either way, since it has chosen us, we cannot turn it away. We will do the best we can for it."
Last night, when everyone had gone up to bed, we last saw her settling down for the night on our comfy cushioned seat out on the porch. The next morning at 6am, which is today, the cat was still around. As usual, when we left, it accompanied us to the gate, sat there and watched us drive off. Cait forgot something so we turned back. When she ran in to get her stuff, the cat again tried initiating play - rolling around on the ground (you'd almost think it was like an excited puppy wanting to play all day!) . Cait gave it one last stroke and said bye-bye. Again, it followed her to the gate, sat outside and had a puzzled look as to why she was leaving again. Then it promptly went back in.
When I called home at 1pm, I was told the cat left when Owain went to school. It only came back in the mid-afternoon.
I don't know how long the cat will stay. I think being a street cat for so long would make it hard for it to remain housebound. With my big windows and doors perpetually open, with the gate slats wide enough for her to slip through, I think it would be near-impossible to keep her house-bound. We just have to accept that she will roam. We just hope she will return. My friend did warn me that she might one day go away - street cats sometimes did - and if it did, it might or might not return. So that is something we need to get used to. As Isaac warned us last night: don't get too attached. Remember what happened with the pigeon?
The pigeon was our first 'pet'. It limped to our house one fine day, one wing damaged. It could not fly so we put it in a cardboard box, gave it food and water, brought it to the vet. Despite the fact that the pigeon pooped all over the house when it was well enough to wander around, it was still a companion of sorts - watching tv with the kids, hopping out into the garden when the kids played etc. Isaac was really attached and he was very sad the day the pigeon was well enough to fly away. It never came back.
But anyway. We hope the cat stays - more or less. I've just bought her cat food pellets, her own bowl for water and another for food, and finally, her own little collar with a bell. I won't put it on her for now though. We will put food and water out for her and let her know she's got a home with us. But we will not restrain her indoors or cage her and we do know that she's quite the independent roamer so she will come and go as she pleases.
If she is still with us beyond a week, I will buy a cat carrier and transport her to a vet for an examination and sterilisation. Even if she does not stay with us, being sterilised can only be good for her and for the community. She does not look malnourished and her fur is nice and thick. Her head looks small and her eyes are huge - pale green jade colour. Her ears are big and perky and overall she looks like a juvenile cat, not quite an adult yet. She also has a jaunty tail which sticks upright whenever she approaches us. A friend told us this means that she has identified us as her family and she is comfortable with us.
Tentatively, we decided to call her Tigerlily, the Indian princess from Peter Pan, 'tiger' because of her black tigerish strips set in her tortoise-shell patches and 'lily' because of her snow-white chest and paws. I was told though that the name is too long and cats are more likely to recognise and respond to names that are max 2 syllables long. So we'll think about it again.
For now though, Tigerlily stays.
We didn't choose Tigerlily. She chose us as her pet-family.
I've meant to post the following account of how Tigerlily came to be part of our family but didn't get round to it. Its been more than a month since she's joined our tribe. I wrote this the day after she came to us. Here's a look at how it all happened...
Yesterday I was on my way with Trin to see the speech therapist. As we stepped out from our gate, Trin pointed across the road and said: look, cat! Then she started making 'meow meow' sounds. Amazingly the cat responded with meows and came towards us. And I knew instinctively that this little animal wanted to come over for some stroking and cuddling.
So the cat came over to us and immediately lay on the ground, feet up, belly exposed and waited for us to stroke her! I've never seen cats behave like this before. I thought they were always haughty and standoffish but this little one was very friendly. It also did not seem wary of humans as I thought most strays would be.
We petted her for a while but as we stood up to leave, she stood up too and walked with us. So I tried backtracking into our garden, thinking that maybe she would be too wary to go into the grounds. But I was wrong. In she came, rolled over on the ground, Owain and Trin stroking and cooing in delight.
We really had to leave, so I carried Trin and went to the gate. The cat accompanied us but this time I kept on walking. After a while, the cat stopped several metres from my house and watched us go. Then it turned and went back in.
According to Lolita, the cat stayed in our house (or actually, the porch area) for several hours until Owain left for school and the house was locked up. We thought we'd seen the last of it, but not so. She (Lolita discovered it was a girl cat) came back in the evening. We didn't have cat food so we gave her bread from a curry bun and she finished everything.
The kids were thrilled, particularly Cait, who loved to spend hours outside with the cat just stroking it. Every once in a while, she would go out, sit outside, or sit on our ledge, but she would always come back and play and manja a bit. Even with me and KH, the cat would come, curl around our legs and mew. She didn't seem scared at all.
Occasionally, when she sat outside looking into the distance, I got the feeling that it was waiting for something/someone, sort of expecting somebody. Her stance looked watching and maybe even, a bit protective. It reminded me of the story in Neil Gaiman's book "Smoke and Mirrors". I read it sometime ago and that story really stuck with me. It was about a stray cat who battled nightly demons to protect its adopted human family. I remember liking it so much I made a photocopy of it and later on, bought the actual book. This little cat's watchful stance reminded me of this.
KH, who has always been resistant to the idea of any pets, seem won over or resigned to the fact that the cat seems to like us. But as I pointed out, we didn't choose it. It chose us. That's got to count for something right? Why did it choose us? And as KH jokingly said: "what on earth did Trin say to it! Either way, since it has chosen us, we cannot turn it away. We will do the best we can for it."
Last night, when everyone had gone up to bed, we last saw her settling down for the night on our comfy cushioned seat out on the porch. The next morning at 6am, which is today, the cat was still around. As usual, when we left, it accompanied us to the gate, sat there and watched us drive off. Cait forgot something so we turned back. When she ran in to get her stuff, the cat again tried initiating play - rolling around on the ground (you'd almost think it was like an excited puppy wanting to play all day!) . Cait gave it one last stroke and said bye-bye. Again, it followed her to the gate, sat outside and had a puzzled look as to why she was leaving again. Then it promptly went back in.
When I called home at 1pm, I was told the cat left when Owain went to school. It only came back in the mid-afternoon.
I don't know how long the cat will stay. I think being a street cat for so long would make it hard for it to remain housebound. With my big windows and doors perpetually open, with the gate slats wide enough for her to slip through, I think it would be near-impossible to keep her house-bound. We just have to accept that she will roam. We just hope she will return. My friend did warn me that she might one day go away - street cats sometimes did - and if it did, it might or might not return. So that is something we need to get used to. As Isaac warned us last night: don't get too attached. Remember what happened with the pigeon?
The pigeon was our first 'pet'. It limped to our house one fine day, one wing damaged. It could not fly so we put it in a cardboard box, gave it food and water, brought it to the vet. Despite the fact that the pigeon pooped all over the house when it was well enough to wander around, it was still a companion of sorts - watching tv with the kids, hopping out into the garden when the kids played etc. Isaac was really attached and he was very sad the day the pigeon was well enough to fly away. It never came back.
But anyway. We hope the cat stays - more or less. I've just bought her cat food pellets, her own bowl for water and another for food, and finally, her own little collar with a bell. I won't put it on her for now though. We will put food and water out for her and let her know she's got a home with us. But we will not restrain her indoors or cage her and we do know that she's quite the independent roamer so she will come and go as she pleases.
If she is still with us beyond a week, I will buy a cat carrier and transport her to a vet for an examination and sterilisation. Even if she does not stay with us, being sterilised can only be good for her and for the community. She does not look malnourished and her fur is nice and thick. Her head looks small and her eyes are huge - pale green jade colour. Her ears are big and perky and overall she looks like a juvenile cat, not quite an adult yet. She also has a jaunty tail which sticks upright whenever she approaches us. A friend told us this means that she has identified us as her family and she is comfortable with us.
Tentatively, we decided to call her Tigerlily, the Indian princess from Peter Pan, 'tiger' because of her black tigerish strips set in her tortoise-shell patches and 'lily' because of her snow-white chest and paws. I was told though that the name is too long and cats are more likely to recognise and respond to names that are max 2 syllables long. So we'll think about it again.
For now though, Tigerlily stays.
Monday, January 05, 2009
Hotel reviews posted
Completed my reviews of six hotels in Malaysia in Pangkor, Ipoh, Penang and KL. Its posted on my travel blog Big On Trips.
Crappy stay at the Penang Parkroyal hada happy ending after all. A lovely 'feedback' letter I shot to the Parkroyal management resulted in a warm letter from the GM of Penang Parkroyal inviting us back for a two-night stay gratis. I accepted of course. We'll go in June for the durians.
Completed my reviews of six hotels in Malaysia in Pangkor, Ipoh, Penang and KL. Its posted on my travel blog Big On Trips.
Crappy stay at the Penang Parkroyal hada happy ending after all. A lovely 'feedback' letter I shot to the Parkroyal management resulted in a warm letter from the GM of Penang Parkroyal inviting us back for a two-night stay gratis. I accepted of course. We'll go in June for the durians.
St Gabriel's
Just recording some of my thoughts about St Gab's while they are still fresh.
We went for the campfire on the last night of Isaac's orientation camp at school. So many parents turned up that the boys had to sit on the floor because the parents took up their bench space! I think the school found this large turn-out a bit unexpected too. They seemed equally pleasantly surprised at the larger than expected numbers that came for the Dec 19 registration briefing. In previous years, the numbers were a lot smaller. What does this mean? More concerned parents this batch? It can only be good for the school.
The campfire was not a total fantastic success in part thanks to the zombie-like, half-hearted attitudes of the Sec 1 boys. I'd chalk it down to fatigue, shyness or apathy, but I'd still really like to shake these boys to wake them up - Isaac included! Here was a great campfire, such enthusiastic, hardworking GLs and there were the Sec 1s, acting half-dead!
Kudos to the senior Group Leaders (GLs)though! They were really working hard to energise the boys in the cheers - largely fell flat but a real A-star for effort! Funniest part of the night came when the St Gab's boys called for 'thanksgiving' - purported a school tradition - to encourage anyone to come up and offer their thanks to whoever they wished. As usual, no response from the near brain-dead Sec 1s - until a plump, cute little Indian boy stepped up to the plate. Looks like he was 'sabo-ed' because he pointed an "I'm-gonna-get-you-for-this" finger at his giggly mates accusingly as he took the mike. This boy was so adorable - he thanked his mother and sister "sitting right there in the middle" (pointed to them), for coming and for supporting him and gruffly saying that he loves them from the bottom of his heart (pumped fist to heart for emphasis).
I came away from the place with a sense of how much the senior boys loved their school and the strong sense of fellowship and camaraderie they had. Several of the boys had lost their voices shouting and cheering over the two days of the camp, but not their sense of fun. Quite a number of teachers were also there. Even their teacher, Mr Foo, radiated a strong sense of love and pride in the school. I gleaned all this from the way they behaved and the things they said.
I was also gratified and impressed to learn that Isaac's form teacher, Mrs Foong, stayed with her boys overnight throughout the camp, and walked the path with them, gamely taking part in activities, hiking with them etc. I don't know if she was the only form teacher to do so, but I'm glad it was Isaac's teacher who did so!
Later at the end of the night, as the boys went back to their classrooms to get their bags, we parents also accompanied them. Isaac's class was the only class still seated in the room, parents gathered outside, as the teacher spoke to the boys and to the parents. I was glad to see that she made the effort and the time for one last pep talk to the boys, and parents.
Mrs Foong is a Chinese teacher, so her English isn't that great. But the love for what she does, the passion to nurture her boys, the commitment that shone from her, was all so palpable. She spoke to the boys about attitude being the key to success, about respect, particularly to their parents. Mrs Foong told the boys: "If you can't even respect your parents, then who on earth can you respect? So boys, don't let me hear that you are rude to them, or you disrespect them. You will be in trouble with me! Your parents and I work together to help you. So please, don't disrespect them!"
She also sought our understanding that there may be times when she may be "very strict with the boys" and to work with her closely. Gee, I felt like applauding and saying: Its okay, go right ahead please! You have my permission to be as strict as you like!!
One of the GLs standing there later said the same thing: Yes, Mrs Foong is strict but the boys who come through her class tend to do very well. He says this from experience because he too, was from her class once. But, he also stressed, it still boils down to the boys, what they want, their attitude etc.
Later the GLs and Mrs Foong highlighted five boys whom they said had "done very well" in the camp and the boys stood up, looking a bit embarrassed but clearly happy to have a round of applause from all the parents and their classmates.
After giving each boy their 'prize' for winning one of the games/activities in the camp, the boys were dismissed.
It appears to me that the school seems to have very committed teachers who go out of their way for the boys. When we came for our impromptu visit last year and met Joey, that lovely boy who happens to be a GL too (we saw him there that night too and even before that, he had recognised KH and Isaac from the first day of registration!), Joey and the other student leader that brought us around told us that their teachers were first-rate - in that they genuinely cared for the boys and would spend time helping them and giving extra coaching where necessary. Even my neighbour Luke, who studies in St Gab's, said this.
I cynically dismissed it just a nice PR line. But from my interactions with the teachers during the registration, the campfire, I think Joey and Luke are right. I see in them, an enthusiasm for what they do, intense pride and loyalty for the school and caring commitment for the boys under their charge. And in the boys too, this very strong sense of school pride, bonding and school spirit. I did not see this in SJI Jr, nor in any of my other children's schools. In fact, the closest I have seen to this is 22 years ago in RJC and among my RI friends. That kind of palpable school pride and bonding. I certainly did not expect to get all this from St Gab's.
I think the people maketh the school. The students and the teachers are the face of the school. And if a school churns out well-mannered, helpful, proactive, respectful young men like Joey, Luke and the other GLs I saw that night, and has committed and passionate teachers like Mr Foo and Mrs Foong on their staff, right down to the very helpful school clerk we met earlier, then the school must be doing something right. This is the heartware they have gotten down to a 'T'. The 'hardware' - ie the L1B4, the other achievements etc, is just one part of the picture.
I only wish more people knew about this, knew about what this school could offer. Maybe then, it would not be a 'no-choice first choice' as it was for me. Bluntly put, it would not languish behind the other more prestigious Catholic boys' schools like Maris Stella, Catholic High or SJI, as what I can best describe as a 'second-tier' school, and instead, come to the fore as a boys' school of choice.
I came away with a real buzz of excitement from what I had seen from the campfire, from seeing Mrs Foong, the GLs etc. Maybe its early days yet but I believe Isaac is in good hands and I thank God for this - truly, He knows best. Despite my lamenting about Isaac not getting to SJI, He knows best and put us on this path. Yes, St Gab's was not my first choice and really was a choice that arose out of a lack of other viable choices. But in the days that have passed, in the people I have met, what I have seen and through all I have encountered, I am slowly changing my mind.
Whether or not he eventually does well and makes it to a good JC is one thing. But here, character-wise, I suspect this place will be the making of him.
Just recording some of my thoughts about St Gab's while they are still fresh.
We went for the campfire on the last night of Isaac's orientation camp at school. So many parents turned up that the boys had to sit on the floor because the parents took up their bench space! I think the school found this large turn-out a bit unexpected too. They seemed equally pleasantly surprised at the larger than expected numbers that came for the Dec 19 registration briefing. In previous years, the numbers were a lot smaller. What does this mean? More concerned parents this batch? It can only be good for the school.
The campfire was not a total fantastic success in part thanks to the zombie-like, half-hearted attitudes of the Sec 1 boys. I'd chalk it down to fatigue, shyness or apathy, but I'd still really like to shake these boys to wake them up - Isaac included! Here was a great campfire, such enthusiastic, hardworking GLs and there were the Sec 1s, acting half-dead!
Kudos to the senior Group Leaders (GLs)though! They were really working hard to energise the boys in the cheers - largely fell flat but a real A-star for effort! Funniest part of the night came when the St Gab's boys called for 'thanksgiving' - purported a school tradition - to encourage anyone to come up and offer their thanks to whoever they wished. As usual, no response from the near brain-dead Sec 1s - until a plump, cute little Indian boy stepped up to the plate. Looks like he was 'sabo-ed' because he pointed an "I'm-gonna-get-you-for-this" finger at his giggly mates accusingly as he took the mike. This boy was so adorable - he thanked his mother and sister "sitting right there in the middle" (pointed to them), for coming and for supporting him and gruffly saying that he loves them from the bottom of his heart (pumped fist to heart for emphasis).
I came away from the place with a sense of how much the senior boys loved their school and the strong sense of fellowship and camaraderie they had. Several of the boys had lost their voices shouting and cheering over the two days of the camp, but not their sense of fun. Quite a number of teachers were also there. Even their teacher, Mr Foo, radiated a strong sense of love and pride in the school. I gleaned all this from the way they behaved and the things they said.
I was also gratified and impressed to learn that Isaac's form teacher, Mrs Foong, stayed with her boys overnight throughout the camp, and walked the path with them, gamely taking part in activities, hiking with them etc. I don't know if she was the only form teacher to do so, but I'm glad it was Isaac's teacher who did so!
Later at the end of the night, as the boys went back to their classrooms to get their bags, we parents also accompanied them. Isaac's class was the only class still seated in the room, parents gathered outside, as the teacher spoke to the boys and to the parents. I was glad to see that she made the effort and the time for one last pep talk to the boys, and parents.
Mrs Foong is a Chinese teacher, so her English isn't that great. But the love for what she does, the passion to nurture her boys, the commitment that shone from her, was all so palpable. She spoke to the boys about attitude being the key to success, about respect, particularly to their parents. Mrs Foong told the boys: "If you can't even respect your parents, then who on earth can you respect? So boys, don't let me hear that you are rude to them, or you disrespect them. You will be in trouble with me! Your parents and I work together to help you. So please, don't disrespect them!"
She also sought our understanding that there may be times when she may be "very strict with the boys" and to work with her closely. Gee, I felt like applauding and saying: Its okay, go right ahead please! You have my permission to be as strict as you like!!
One of the GLs standing there later said the same thing: Yes, Mrs Foong is strict but the boys who come through her class tend to do very well. He says this from experience because he too, was from her class once. But, he also stressed, it still boils down to the boys, what they want, their attitude etc.
Later the GLs and Mrs Foong highlighted five boys whom they said had "done very well" in the camp and the boys stood up, looking a bit embarrassed but clearly happy to have a round of applause from all the parents and their classmates.
After giving each boy their 'prize' for winning one of the games/activities in the camp, the boys were dismissed.
It appears to me that the school seems to have very committed teachers who go out of their way for the boys. When we came for our impromptu visit last year and met Joey, that lovely boy who happens to be a GL too (we saw him there that night too and even before that, he had recognised KH and Isaac from the first day of registration!), Joey and the other student leader that brought us around told us that their teachers were first-rate - in that they genuinely cared for the boys and would spend time helping them and giving extra coaching where necessary. Even my neighbour Luke, who studies in St Gab's, said this.
I cynically dismissed it just a nice PR line. But from my interactions with the teachers during the registration, the campfire, I think Joey and Luke are right. I see in them, an enthusiasm for what they do, intense pride and loyalty for the school and caring commitment for the boys under their charge. And in the boys too, this very strong sense of school pride, bonding and school spirit. I did not see this in SJI Jr, nor in any of my other children's schools. In fact, the closest I have seen to this is 22 years ago in RJC and among my RI friends. That kind of palpable school pride and bonding. I certainly did not expect to get all this from St Gab's.
I think the people maketh the school. The students and the teachers are the face of the school. And if a school churns out well-mannered, helpful, proactive, respectful young men like Joey, Luke and the other GLs I saw that night, and has committed and passionate teachers like Mr Foo and Mrs Foong on their staff, right down to the very helpful school clerk we met earlier, then the school must be doing something right. This is the heartware they have gotten down to a 'T'. The 'hardware' - ie the L1B4, the other achievements etc, is just one part of the picture.
I only wish more people knew about this, knew about what this school could offer. Maybe then, it would not be a 'no-choice first choice' as it was for me. Bluntly put, it would not languish behind the other more prestigious Catholic boys' schools like Maris Stella, Catholic High or SJI, as what I can best describe as a 'second-tier' school, and instead, come to the fore as a boys' school of choice.
I came away with a real buzz of excitement from what I had seen from the campfire, from seeing Mrs Foong, the GLs etc. Maybe its early days yet but I believe Isaac is in good hands and I thank God for this - truly, He knows best. Despite my lamenting about Isaac not getting to SJI, He knows best and put us on this path. Yes, St Gab's was not my first choice and really was a choice that arose out of a lack of other viable choices. But in the days that have passed, in the people I have met, what I have seen and through all I have encountered, I am slowly changing my mind.
Whether or not he eventually does well and makes it to a good JC is one thing. But here, character-wise, I suspect this place will be the making of him.
Friday, January 02, 2009
Hello 2009!
We started 2009 on a sober note. Actually, we start every new year on a sober note.
It has been a family tradition to visit my grand-dad at the columbarium on New Year's Day every year since 2002 because 1 Jan is his death anniversary. And since Popo had died in July last year and her ashes interred in the same niche, we visited her as well.
We all spent some quiet time thinking our own private thoughts while the younger kids scampered quite irreverently around the columbarium. No one cried and there were smiles and some of us blew kisses and touched the cold marble of the niche. No mourning, quiet reminisces, lots of smiles and the occasional sound of laughter from the children to remind us that amid death, there is love, laughter and life.
Death anniversary or no, I think it is fitting to start every new year with a few minutes of thought and silent prayer for absent loved ones. Good for us too because we are reminded that we are given a new year, new chances, new opportunities and yet one thing never changes - that we are all mortal, we have one life to live, we have to make the best of this. What does a new year celebrate anyway, but a new beginning. I think this is quite fitting.
Whenever I think of Popo, Grandad, Marc, and the many people I love who have gone away, I feel a bit sad but optimistic too. I know that somewhere out there, they are in a good place and we will see them again one day. And while we have our countdowns and our celebrations in our mortal world, I'm sure the dead have their own milestones and timekeeping to reflect and celebrate too. They would not be far from us since they are in our thoughts.
It occurred to me that it has also been a year since Marc's death on Dec 23 2007. Since his ashes were scattered at Sepang, there is no physical 'memorial' to visit. It left me feeling a bit unsettled. We had our Christmas Eve party at Aunty Peg's place, but aside from a photograph of him, there was no other memorial there. The feeling was that he was just somewhere else, perhaps with a friend or travelling, not that he was gone. It was a strange feeling to have but not unfamiliar since Marc has been absent for several Christmases before his passing.
Still, I was very aware of the date. I guessed it must be hard on Aunty Pegs since Ryan was also away. I think she feels the loss keenly since the 24th was just a day after his death anniversary. As a mother myself now, I also feel a sympathetic grief. Still, I didn't know what to say to Aunty Peg. She didn't bring it up and I couldn't bring myself to either. It was just a feeling that was hanging there. Right at the end of the night, as I left, I gave her quick hug about her shoulders, saying nothing but feeling so much. Maybe she understood what I meant.
All this has left me wondering - mum wants her ashes scattered when it was her time to go. But what would I have left of her here with me? Selfish I know, but I know I would miss her so incredibly it would be unbearably sad to let all of her go into a sea somewhere as fish food, and to have nothing of her here. Also made me think - what about me? When it is time to go, where would I go?
Maybe it is better to just live with memories instead of having a physical space in a columbarium. No need for people to visit you, pay for literally what is a hole in a wall... no obligations, since we all came from dust and to dust and nothingness we will return. Perhaps that is the way life should be and maybe we hold onto our grief less if we let go early.
But there is a part of me that worries that memories fade and get sepia-toned by time. What then, do we have left of the one we loved so much? I jokingly asked mum if I could keep a bone fragment with me - maybe her pinky bone! - and she was shocked enough to object immediately. My aunt who was listening to all this said, no lah, you have to keep it all together! But, I countered, the very act of tossing the ashes into the sea means all would be scattered, so what was the difference between that and keeping one teensy bit? The conversation was clearly degenerating into the ludicrous.
The rest of the early afternoon passed with drinks and lunch with everybody, just catching up with each other and eagerly discussing the latest developments in that hit TV serial The Little Nyonya ("aiyoh, so many details all salah!" lamented Aunty Sue). Popo, true blue Nonya that she was, would have loved the serial though! The conversation spanned Hamas, real Nonya traditions and the intricacies of Pri 4 math before we all reluctantly stood up to leave.
Half of us then went to Borders where we had a great shopping spree. I had a 50% discount and my cousin promptly blew about $150 on Neil Gaiman's graphic novels. "It would have been much more!" he protested when our eyebrows shot up at the bill. Isaac and I gleefully shopped for books too and we took home about 10 books though the bill for our haul was more modest at $23 - after we used up all our Borders vouchers.
Lunch was late and prosaically chicken rice at popo's favourite chicken rice stall in the market in Lorong One. Dinner was simply rice with home-cooked chicken curry which I hadn't done for a long time and which garnered rave reviews from the children and three helpings of rice from just Owain alone! All of which is extremely gratifying to this sometime mummy-cook.
Then it was off to buy last minute stationery, home to watch The Little Nyonya and then packing all the kids off to bed the instant the show ended.
Thus ended the first day of the New Year.
Happy 2009!
We started 2009 on a sober note. Actually, we start every new year on a sober note.
It has been a family tradition to visit my grand-dad at the columbarium on New Year's Day every year since 2002 because 1 Jan is his death anniversary. And since Popo had died in July last year and her ashes interred in the same niche, we visited her as well.
We all spent some quiet time thinking our own private thoughts while the younger kids scampered quite irreverently around the columbarium. No one cried and there were smiles and some of us blew kisses and touched the cold marble of the niche. No mourning, quiet reminisces, lots of smiles and the occasional sound of laughter from the children to remind us that amid death, there is love, laughter and life.
Death anniversary or no, I think it is fitting to start every new year with a few minutes of thought and silent prayer for absent loved ones. Good for us too because we are reminded that we are given a new year, new chances, new opportunities and yet one thing never changes - that we are all mortal, we have one life to live, we have to make the best of this. What does a new year celebrate anyway, but a new beginning. I think this is quite fitting.
Whenever I think of Popo, Grandad, Marc, and the many people I love who have gone away, I feel a bit sad but optimistic too. I know that somewhere out there, they are in a good place and we will see them again one day. And while we have our countdowns and our celebrations in our mortal world, I'm sure the dead have their own milestones and timekeeping to reflect and celebrate too. They would not be far from us since they are in our thoughts.
It occurred to me that it has also been a year since Marc's death on Dec 23 2007. Since his ashes were scattered at Sepang, there is no physical 'memorial' to visit. It left me feeling a bit unsettled. We had our Christmas Eve party at Aunty Peg's place, but aside from a photograph of him, there was no other memorial there. The feeling was that he was just somewhere else, perhaps with a friend or travelling, not that he was gone. It was a strange feeling to have but not unfamiliar since Marc has been absent for several Christmases before his passing.
Still, I was very aware of the date. I guessed it must be hard on Aunty Pegs since Ryan was also away. I think she feels the loss keenly since the 24th was just a day after his death anniversary. As a mother myself now, I also feel a sympathetic grief. Still, I didn't know what to say to Aunty Peg. She didn't bring it up and I couldn't bring myself to either. It was just a feeling that was hanging there. Right at the end of the night, as I left, I gave her quick hug about her shoulders, saying nothing but feeling so much. Maybe she understood what I meant.
All this has left me wondering - mum wants her ashes scattered when it was her time to go. But what would I have left of her here with me? Selfish I know, but I know I would miss her so incredibly it would be unbearably sad to let all of her go into a sea somewhere as fish food, and to have nothing of her here. Also made me think - what about me? When it is time to go, where would I go?
Maybe it is better to just live with memories instead of having a physical space in a columbarium. No need for people to visit you, pay for literally what is a hole in a wall... no obligations, since we all came from dust and to dust and nothingness we will return. Perhaps that is the way life should be and maybe we hold onto our grief less if we let go early.
But there is a part of me that worries that memories fade and get sepia-toned by time. What then, do we have left of the one we loved so much? I jokingly asked mum if I could keep a bone fragment with me - maybe her pinky bone! - and she was shocked enough to object immediately. My aunt who was listening to all this said, no lah, you have to keep it all together! But, I countered, the very act of tossing the ashes into the sea means all would be scattered, so what was the difference between that and keeping one teensy bit? The conversation was clearly degenerating into the ludicrous.
The rest of the early afternoon passed with drinks and lunch with everybody, just catching up with each other and eagerly discussing the latest developments in that hit TV serial The Little Nyonya ("aiyoh, so many details all salah!" lamented Aunty Sue). Popo, true blue Nonya that she was, would have loved the serial though! The conversation spanned Hamas, real Nonya traditions and the intricacies of Pri 4 math before we all reluctantly stood up to leave.
Half of us then went to Borders where we had a great shopping spree. I had a 50% discount and my cousin promptly blew about $150 on Neil Gaiman's graphic novels. "It would have been much more!" he protested when our eyebrows shot up at the bill. Isaac and I gleefully shopped for books too and we took home about 10 books though the bill for our haul was more modest at $23 - after we used up all our Borders vouchers.
Lunch was late and prosaically chicken rice at popo's favourite chicken rice stall in the market in Lorong One. Dinner was simply rice with home-cooked chicken curry which I hadn't done for a long time and which garnered rave reviews from the children and three helpings of rice from just Owain alone! All of which is extremely gratifying to this sometime mummy-cook.
Then it was off to buy last minute stationery, home to watch The Little Nyonya and then packing all the kids off to bed the instant the show ended.
Thus ended the first day of the New Year.
Happy 2009!
Quiet end to 2008
After three weeks of long leave, I was back in the office on Monday, but off again on Tuesday before New Year's Eve.
My day off saw the kids (including Trin) parked at my SIL's place. The older kids had begged to stay over an extra night. So KH sent Trin over the next morning to play as well.
It was lovely and peaceful to have the whole house (and the silence!) to myself for half the morning. Then it was off to town for my facial at the Green Sanctuary. Gosh, I hadn't been there in ages and really looked forward to a rejuvenating session. And yes, what a great session I had. I took the Vit C facial and an eye treatment. It came with a head and back massage too which was bliss. I lay there in silent contentment from 11.45 to 2.20pm!! The only time I was tense and on high alert was during the zit extraction and the eyebrow shaping, wincing ever so often and bracing myself for the pain. What price beauty eh?
But the rest of the time, I just submitted to the lovely, soothing scrubs, compresses, masks and massages. Sheer decadence, but I think it was really money well-spent. I was in that half-state of utter relaxation and borderline consciousness, slipping in and out of short snoozes but awake enough to know that I emitted a gentle snore or two! I left with a nice spring to my step and my eyebrows nicely shaped! I must say that well-shaped and trim brows really DO make a difference to the face. But of course, never ask a man that. I asked KH at the end of the day if he noticed my lovely new brows and he just gave me a blank look!
The day ended with leisurely browsing at Tangs, Borders and KH, in one of his rare accomodatively obliging moods, came to have to dinner with me at Cedele at Wheelock, and patiently encouraged me to buy a blouse I was in two minds about. He even offered to pay for it!
Ah yes a lovely day indeed and a nice break between the madhouse of the past weeks and the work that is to come.
New Year's Eve was spent at ACM where we toured the galleries (found out that the Chinese believed in the 10 halls of 'hell' which is really not quite the brimstone-and-hellfire-eternal-condemnation sort, but more like purgatory! Interesting because I always thought purgatory was a Catholic concept!) had free ice-cream, and listened to great music.
The lawn outside the museum was full of people out to wait for the fireworks, getting free beers and ice-cream and of course, across the river, Boat Quay was teeming with people too. It was a nice night, not hot and quite balmy. We all sat on the green and ate ice-cream (mine was a sinful nod to the New Year and while it would not get me sloshed, the Baileys and Bourbon icecream from Udders was nice and 'alcoholish'. I fed Trin some and she liked it - far more than her sedately boring strawberry icecream. She kept coming back for more and when I gave her teensy servings, she demanded: "Big one please!" Later of course, as the 91.3FM DJs spun the latest R&B hits for the New Year countdown, Trin was happy to prance around and dance in her exuberant toddler fashion, stopping a couple of tourists in the tracks who grinned as they stood and watched.
We didn't last till midnight and came home by 11pm. I was so tired I crashed out while laying on the floor to 'relax' and didn't wake up until the countdown was over and it was officially 2009. The kids were, of course, widely awake and counting down enthusiastically! Ah gone are the days when I would be so alert at midnight and so enthusiastic about counting down the old year, thinking of resolutions etc!
After three weeks of long leave, I was back in the office on Monday, but off again on Tuesday before New Year's Eve.
My day off saw the kids (including Trin) parked at my SIL's place. The older kids had begged to stay over an extra night. So KH sent Trin over the next morning to play as well.
It was lovely and peaceful to have the whole house (and the silence!) to myself for half the morning. Then it was off to town for my facial at the Green Sanctuary. Gosh, I hadn't been there in ages and really looked forward to a rejuvenating session. And yes, what a great session I had. I took the Vit C facial and an eye treatment. It came with a head and back massage too which was bliss. I lay there in silent contentment from 11.45 to 2.20pm!! The only time I was tense and on high alert was during the zit extraction and the eyebrow shaping, wincing ever so often and bracing myself for the pain. What price beauty eh?
But the rest of the time, I just submitted to the lovely, soothing scrubs, compresses, masks and massages. Sheer decadence, but I think it was really money well-spent. I was in that half-state of utter relaxation and borderline consciousness, slipping in and out of short snoozes but awake enough to know that I emitted a gentle snore or two! I left with a nice spring to my step and my eyebrows nicely shaped! I must say that well-shaped and trim brows really DO make a difference to the face. But of course, never ask a man that. I asked KH at the end of the day if he noticed my lovely new brows and he just gave me a blank look!
The day ended with leisurely browsing at Tangs, Borders and KH, in one of his rare accomodatively obliging moods, came to have to dinner with me at Cedele at Wheelock, and patiently encouraged me to buy a blouse I was in two minds about. He even offered to pay for it!
Ah yes a lovely day indeed and a nice break between the madhouse of the past weeks and the work that is to come.
New Year's Eve was spent at ACM where we toured the galleries (found out that the Chinese believed in the 10 halls of 'hell' which is really not quite the brimstone-and-hellfire-eternal-condemnation sort, but more like purgatory! Interesting because I always thought purgatory was a Catholic concept!) had free ice-cream, and listened to great music.
The lawn outside the museum was full of people out to wait for the fireworks, getting free beers and ice-cream and of course, across the river, Boat Quay was teeming with people too. It was a nice night, not hot and quite balmy. We all sat on the green and ate ice-cream (mine was a sinful nod to the New Year and while it would not get me sloshed, the Baileys and Bourbon icecream from Udders was nice and 'alcoholish'. I fed Trin some and she liked it - far more than her sedately boring strawberry icecream. She kept coming back for more and when I gave her teensy servings, she demanded: "Big one please!" Later of course, as the 91.3FM DJs spun the latest R&B hits for the New Year countdown, Trin was happy to prance around and dance in her exuberant toddler fashion, stopping a couple of tourists in the tracks who grinned as they stood and watched.
We didn't last till midnight and came home by 11pm. I was so tired I crashed out while laying on the floor to 'relax' and didn't wake up until the countdown was over and it was officially 2009. The kids were, of course, widely awake and counting down enthusiastically! Ah gone are the days when I would be so alert at midnight and so enthusiastic about counting down the old year, thinking of resolutions etc!
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