Bedtime Trivia with Little L

I was relaxing all throughout the school hols. By relaxing,  I meant me being lax with the kids' bedtime.
Make that very lax.

While I was a stickler with no. 1 making sure S went to bed by 9.30pm when he was younger, the bedtime somehow just stretched well beyond 10.30pm for L. (I guess most no.2s and beyond would enjoy that 'privilege' as parents get lazier and lazier along the years.)

And now, in prepping them for the re-start of school in just a few days time, I'm working towards inching their bed time back towards 9.30pm.

While S more or less sleeps without much fuss on his own, I am not having much luck with L.

Forty five minutes later into bed, she is still wide-eyed and fidgety, and very much chatting away. It seems that she is doing it all on purpose during bedtime just so she doesn't need to sleep.

It is always in the dark that she launches into her out-of-the-blue trivia questions. And boy, do they often get me stumped. 

"Mommy, what do giraffes like to eat?"
"Are you taller?"
"Do snakes have teeth?"
"Are you happy or sad?"
"I have three bottles! Here's one for you!" (And proceeds to hand me an imaginary one.)

Every bedtime, I'm half part exasperated, half part amused, and mostly exhausted.

Given any normal daytime situation, it would certainly be enjoyable and funny having these chats with her. But not during bedtime. I mean, I'm sure all mothers (and some fathers) can relate to that golden moment between them sleeping and our bedtime, where we can have that precious block of time all to ourselves.

This girl however, seems intent on depriving me that block of time. She will go on and on like little ms chatty on an energizer battery. Often needing many 'shush-es' and explainations that bedtimes are for keeping quiet and resting instead of talking, she'll lull awhile and just when you think she's almost falling asleep, she suddenly starts her trivia chats again.

"Mommy, are you angry?"
"What's that sound?"
*yawn* "I'm so tired, mommy."
"What colours do you like?"

And so goes the questions.

I've tried answering her questions,  ignoring her, threatening her (yes, with me stepping out of the room since she isn't sleeping), shush-ing her, hugging her to sleep, patting her while singing (aiyoh, sing until throat dry with no sign of her sleepiness anywhere around the corner), and whatever ways my mind can come up with.

And just when I don't think she is going to nod off anytime soon, she suprises me.

Suddenly and quietly, she closes her eyes and dozes away into dreamland...

Pffftt....
So, I guess the battery has gone flat.

Goodnight everyone. Shhh....

Hong Kong 2013, once again

So, we went Hong Kong TWICE. 

Within the same year.

Some people might think us crazy. And in a way, maybe it wasn't the most logical of choices (story behind btw) in choosing our holiday destination. Nevertheless, a holiday is a holiday. And no matter where we choose to go, a holiday is a time of togetherness, happiness and enjoyment. Join us on our trip as we journey through Hong Kong streets last week.

That's the kids posing at a huge christmas tree at the airport right after we checked in. 

And here's L. Posing with (or rather, behind) her Spongebob Squarepants character.

Changi was having a 'promotion' - spend more than $100 to get these 'cute' characters at $3/-. We're not fans of Spongebob Squarepants, but somehow it was so easy to spend over a hundred in DFS. So the kiasu-ness in me thought "Aiya, why not?", and asked L to choose the one she liked. 

Of all the funny and weird characters on display, I don't know why she chose this round (read: very 'zhor deng' & bulky to carry around) crab. We couldn't even use this as a pillow for the kids on the plane. I wondered why she couldn't choose something flatter and less bulky, like Spongebob instead? 

Approximately 5hrs later, we were relaxing in our hotel room @ 279 Chi Residence.

Evidence here as you can see, L having her milk like a boss on the very comfy bed.

This has been our third stay here, (big thank you to my cousin V for introducing this place to us) and the reason why we keep coming back is because this apartment has a great location. Within a 5 minute radius, there are shops, a convenience store, cinemas, MTR (YMT stop), nice coffeehouses (茶餐厅), temple street with all its variety of food stalls (so far we only tried the famous claypot rice and stewed beef - DELICIOUS) and a police station! How safe can we get while walking around late at night? 

The apartment is spacious (kitchenette, living room & a bedroom), modernly furnished and with very friendly and helpful staff! Our stays to date were always pleasant. And so we always came back because lazy me was lazy to look for another place.

After a short rest and recharge, we spent the day wandering around our hotel, enjoying the cool weather and basically getting a feel of Hong Kong sights and sounds. I forgot to mention that the weather was FANTASTIC during this period! Cool and dry. The kind that was aircon-comfortably-nice kind of cool. Coming from sunny hot Singapore, just walking around the lovely weather was already such a joy. ^^ 

And then, come dinner, trust the adventurous hubby to go looking for ulu places to eat. He wanted seafood, but didn't want to go back Sai Kung. So we went to another fishing village called Po Tai-O (布袋噢) instead. (Somewhere that I didn't know existed before this.)

Some trivia about Po Tai-O village:
● Tomb Raider (Cradle of Life) shot some scenes here with Angelina Jolie.
● Everyone in the village supposedly shares the same surname - 'Po'.

Thinking we'd take our leisurely time to get there, then enjoy the seaside sights while dinner, we took a mtr at about 5-ish to Po Lam where we would change to the green bus no. 16. When we reached the bus terminal however, we didn't know where to go. The bus terminal was big, but somehow devoid of people. We didn't know where to board the bus as there weren't any big signages around to indicate. After asking one of the rare passerby who directed us to a spot further up, we made our way towards that direction.

And ended up waiting here.

At this point, although it was only 6pm, the sky was already as dark as if it were 9pm. Our hopes for a lovely seaside scenery dinner were dashed. A green minibus arrived after quite a wait and we boarded quickly. As the night progressed, the air was also starting to get chillier. 

I forgot to take pictures but the bus looked just the same as those you'd see in HK dramas. What the dramas didn't depict however, were the reckless speed the drivers were going about. The bus that we were on, accelerated and stopped abruptly. If it was the same scenario back home, I'm sure SBS or Transit would have received multiple complaints along the way. But not here. Everone in the bus was quiet. No complaints or grumbles were heard so I took it as the norm for the minibus drivers to drive so. 

So I sat there trying to enjoy the exciting bus ride. Except that it was pretty hard trying to balance with L lounging lazily on me and while the bus was swerving and stopping so abruptly, I was slip sliding all over the seat. After about 20 exhilarating mins later, we finally reach the quaint little village of Po Tai-o.

Small clusters of people were smoking here and there, and we walked down narrow village and road paths, passing little stalls selling dried fish and squid.

And then we arrived here. 

Hub did the choosing while I looked after the kids. Again, no pictures were taken of the inside of the restaurant because at this point, it was already starting to get real chilly. And I guess my brains kind of froze. We had tai-tais with their hair all coifed neatly, wearing leather jackets with fur lining. 

And then we had us. 

Garbed in our thin pathetic Addidas jackets, and hubby with Just. One. T-Shirt. How underdressed we were! Such a dead giveaway that we werent locals. Haha.

Anyway, our meal was as such:

Clam soup that was hot and delicious with generous amounts of clams.

盐稣赖尿虾 (literal translation), big bamboo clams (which were huge! About 30cm long each!) & fried rice. 

And here was Hub's highlight of the day - Squid sashimi in all its gross glory. 

Needless to say, it wasn't my cup of tea. I don't even like sashimi! But I was duped into trying one because even my mom said it was good! So I put one into my mouth and started chewing as fast as I could, hoping to quickly swallow it down. But I simply couldn't take the slimy and flaccid texture and promptly spit it out much to Hub's dismay. "Walao eh, very wasteful leh" he said. But I will take credit for even trying. 

After dinner, it was already really, REALLY cold. So much that my fingers became numb. Lucky for us, we managed to catch a waiting bus and thus saved us half an hour of waiting out in frosty winds. It took awhile for me to be able to feel my fingertips again. 

*******************************

This was what we had for breakfast the next morning.

豆浆油条 at one of the local coffeeshops downstairs our hotel. The hot soya bean came unsweetened and you need to add sugar in to taste. The rest of the fritters were quite oily but not too bad. Not much different from those we find back home. We also ordered porridge (not pictured, unfortunately) which was pretty good as well. 

After that we visited 花园街 where we bought these pretty shoes for the kids.

And here is my Mom with her spunky new pink shoes!

The next few days we visited Disneyland and the Big Buddha. 

Here was L doing her rendition of 'Do you hear something coming' while the train was approaching.

We hopped onto the signature cute train with Mickey shaped windows and stuffs, and compared to our previous trip here, spent a pretty fruitful day at Disneyland.

S posing with a gigantic toy soldier at Toy Story land.

And with Buzzlight year.

And here was us, enjoying the Small World ride, when in truth all Hub and me wanted was a 15 minutes rest on the boatride.

The kids somehow associate eating popcorns with Disneyland now. Every trip is never complete without devouring an overpriced box of popcorn. Here, they were having a conversation over who ate the bigger cluster.

And these are the pictures from our trip to 大佛. It was my first time there and although it was very commercialised and touristy, I thought the Ngong Ping village was a beautiful, scenic place with old village glamour.

Village + glazed donuts = commercialised

The streets with the Big Buddha far away on a hill.

We climbed the steps up! A total of 288 steps, and Hubby carried lazy L all the way up! He said his back felt like breaking after that.

So proud of this little guy who climbed all the way up without a word of complaint.

We ended the day with a trip to Tai Ping Koon restaurant for their fushion chinese/western food and this humongous souffle for dessert! The last time i tried these were a good 8 years ago!

Au revoir Hong Kong! Till the next time we meet again.

When we finally reached home at night, S suddenly blurted out that "it's good to be home!"

How astute, my son.

It has been a fun and tiring 5 days where I enjoyed all the together time we had. 

But nothing beats going back Home

Breakfast Dancing Joy

7th December 2013

It is such a simple joy to watch my animated girl watching tv while I sip on my cup of coffee over breakfast. She dances and sings along to the variety of cartoons, anticipating the next movements and songs with ease. (That would also include garbling along to the hokkien songs when she watches tv with her grandparents.) 

It was so different with kor kor the last time, who would just sit and watch quietly without as much as a peep. Thus to me, it is so very refreshing and entertaining to watch her going about acting like a train, a robot, singing like Princess Sophia and Doc Mcstuffins, or simply twirling around like a ballerina. 

I watch her with amusement on the sly as we've realised that if she catches any of us watching her intently while she's prancing or singing along, she'd immediately clam up. 

So I guess beneath all that animatedness and cheekiness, there's a shy and paiseh side of my girl afterall.

Happy dancing my baby girl.
Dance as if no one is watching you.♥

Shared smiles are the sweetest

25th November 2013

They quarrel, they fight
They play, they laugh.
Smiles that are shared
Are never halved.

Their shared smiles always warm my heart.♥

Little Ballet Girl

Backdate 15th August 2013

On my way home today, a little girl and her maid boarded the train during one of the stops. Judging from her dressing, the little girl must have had just finished ballet class and the helper was bringing her home. 

Little girl was about 5 years old and oh-so-pretty! The type that random passers-by would gush over. She had big round eyes and a ready cheeky smile. Garbed in the little ballet frock, her cheeks were still flushed red from the ballet class earlier on. Her bun was messed up in a cute unkempt way, the way that little girls who could never keep their hair neat would look. When I looked at her, I was wondering if Lauren would grow up to be like this little girl.

Then I looked at the helper. Judging from the length of her hair and dressing, she was the typical Filipino maid. The type that was quite 'lao chiau'. She had earphones plugged into her ears and although she wasn't talking on the phone, neither was she talking to the little girl.  She wasn't looking at her, smiling at her or engaging her. She was basically just doing her job - bringing the young ward home.  

Technically, she wasn't doing anything wrong.  But somehow I felt that she wasn't doing enough. Suddenly I realized that I may have been looking into the future of Lauren! With today's increase in the demands and expectations of our jobs and standards of living, it is very common for families to employ an additional helper. It is also not unusual to delegate tasks, like the bringing and fetching of kids to various enrichment activities, to the maids. I myself have been guilty of this on many occasions.

While this scene isn't uncommon, it really struck me then that if I wasn't careful in allocating my time properly between work and family, my kids would likely end up in this situation in the not too distant future.

As I had said earlier, the helper wasn't in the wrong. Her job was to make sure she brings the child back safely. Her job scope definitely did not include teaching and nurturing the little girl. That sacred job was solely reserved for parents. However, at such a tender age, I didn't want my kids to go through such similar monotonous journey of not experiencing, not observing and  not communicating everyday. 

What I wanted for my children who are still so young and not yet ready to face the world on their own, was someone who would hold their little hands tightly. Someone who would point out buses and signs, butterflies and kittens along the way. Someone who would engage them when they made their own observations and comments. Someone who would smile at them adoringly and laugh with them along the journey. Someone who made them feel important. 

I wanted to be that Someone. So that I could enrich my children everyday on simple little things. I wanted to be there, in part of their lives in all sorts of journey. Be it along the complex journey of their education, or along the simple journey home.

Of course life would be so much more easier if I left everything to the helper. But that would mean that I would lose a chunk of their lives daily. And if I accumulate those times, that would account for a lot! 

Kids grow up so fast! While they are still young and think the world of me now, I want to cherish every opportunity with them. Very soon they are going to grow up and have their own friends and activities. They would not want to spend time with me, I'll hardly see them. And I'll be left wondering where my sweet little babies went to. 

I do not want to wait till then to regret all the lost times. Some things can never be brought or bought back and we know Time is one of the the notorious ones. Given our current commitments, it is impossible to think that I can be with my kids all the time. I would still have to rely on my helper for certain occasions. But I would need to make more conscious efforts in spending more times with them.

So in meantime, I'm going to be the mother hen who will hold their hands tightly, give them plenty of hugs and kisses everyday, chat with them, laugh with them, play with them, learn with them, read with them and when they have grown big enough to face the world on their own independent feet, I'll learn to let go and I'll learn to let them face their challenges on their own.

But I won't wonder where my little babies have gone. My little babies would have grown up. And I was with them during that journey.

Hold my hand, Mommy

5th November 2013

Hold my hand Mommy, the plane makes such a LOUD sound!
Hold my hand Mommy, I'm afraid I'll fall down.
Hold my hand Mommy, later the water will go 'glug glug glug'.
She tells me as I drain the water off from the bathtub.
Hold my hand Mommy, follow me I'll show you something.
Look! I made a sandwich! (Then shows me a plate of nothing.)
Smell the flowers! She tells me. Then thrusts me plastic daisies.
I pretend to sniff and then she asks me why I didn't sneeze. (Ah, ah, Ahchooo!)
My little chatty lady, so full of imagination.
My precocious, precious, witty child, you have my full adoration.
When I ask her if she loves me, she'll pretend to give some serious thoughts.
Yes, she answers. How much? I ask. A lot, a lot, a lot.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

I'll hold your hand my Darling. Planes aren't actually that scary. 
It's just the noise that's loud. There's nothing there to worry. 
I'll hold your hand my Darling. Hold it tightly in my hand, 
I won't let you fall, step by step, we'll walk together till the end. 
You're afraid of the water, because it goes 'glug glug glug'? 
Look, it's just because the water is draining from the bathtub. 
Oh! You've made a sandwich? A delicious, yummy sandwich? 
I imagine that I've eaten it up, and now it's all finished. 
You asked me to smell the flowers, (they're plastic!) I obliged and pretend to sniff. 
Hey Mommy, you didn't say 'ahchoo', so I sneezed and sneezed and sneezed. 
Filled with such imagination, and funny with the things you say. 
You bring me such great joy and delight in each and every day! 
I will hold your hand, I'll hold it tight, I'll guide you as you grow 
Into an independant young woman, till then will I let go.

♥ from Mommy

Little L's Tooth Extraction

Backdate 12th November 2013

Today marks 'Tooth Extraction Day' for my baby girl. At the tender age of 3, my little girl has got her tooth decayed so badly, it decayed right through her roots and infected the gum. The result was a big abscess of pus that manifested just above the decayed tooth. 

I had tried to prevent 'The Extraction' as long as I could, by filling up the decayed cavities, cutting down on her sweets and candies, making sure her teeth were brushed AFTER her nightly feeds and regularly checking on her teeth. But when the abscess appeared, I knew that it couldn't be delayed any longer.

So I made that dreaded call to the dental centre for an appointment. Because she is still so young, she had to be put under general anesthesia for the procedure in a day op. Aside from being worried about the aesthetic factor of her being bogay for another 3 to 4 years before the adult teeth grows out, we were even more worried about the effects of G.A. at such a young age. After seeking another opinion from a pd, it seemed that we were left with no other choice.

For the procedure, I knew that she had to fast the night before and that it wouldn't be pain-free. So I prepped her. I read up. Hub and me  talked about it. I thought I was mentally ready after my simple mind had progressed past the 'vain' factor.

But No. 
At the O.T, they had to hold her down because she refused to breath in the 'gas'. 'Smelly', she had said. And a struggle ensued after that, for 4 adults to hold my screaming, struggling, crying baby who was fighting for all she's worth, down to place the mask over her mouth while I stood there. Helpless. 

Me. The Mommy who was brave and fearless in her eyes. The one who would swoop in and rescue her whenever she needed help.  

The one who would smash a cockroach with a rolled-up newspaper with just one scream from her. The one who would put her arm into dark crevices filled with dust, dirt and other unknown stuff, just to retrieve the toy that rolled underneath. The one who would protect her from all the scary shadows and monsters at bedtime. The one who had not backed away in squeamishness in the face of vomit and poos. 

In the time when she depended on me for desperate help, her brave and fearless Mommy was powerless. I had failed her. I left the O.T on the verge of tears after she was sedated, with my face white as a sheet, my soul deeply shaken and my heart painfully sliced into a thousand pieces.

The procedure took about an hour. In the end, she had to have the tooth beside it removed too because it was as badly decayed. We couldn't bear to subject her through another round of trauma in future so we decided to extract it as well. I was lucky to have 'escaped' the heartbreaking episode when they woke her up from her 'sleep' because I was talking to the doctor then. Daddy went instead. But the sight that I saw when I joined them awhile later would be enough to traumatise me for quite some time.

There she was, so small and vulnerable and feeble, huddled in Daddy's arms all wrapped up, with bits of dried blood crusted in several places on her swollen face. But the worst were her heartrending wails. It seemed to me that the helplessness, sheer terror and defenselessness that she felt during the sedation process were still fresh in her memory. And those emotions were  translated into these heartwrenching cries; into a universal language all parents understood instinctively. 

In her semi-sedated state, she didn't recognise my voice or my touch, wailing, crying and thrashing around at hands; my hands, that were trying to comfort and soothe her. She rejected my embrace and swung at my arms, clinging only to Daddy, the first and only trustable person she could pick out from the sea of frightening strangers once she opened her eyes from the nightmare. Once again, I stood there helpless and unable to offer her any form of comfort or assurances. 

Hours later, she was still lying limply on Daddy's shoulder refusing our attempts to put her on the bed or into my waiting arms. The 'procedure', as they so simply termed it, was not as simple as it sounded. It was extremely traumatising and distressing, both for L and for us.

But what that was needed to be done, is already done. I only blame myself for not looking after her teeth better. L is a brave girl and a fighter. I look forward to seeing that smile back on my bright and cheerfully animated girl soon. 

Her smile hereafter will be two teeth less. But nevertheless, it will still be the brightest, sweetest smile I see.

*Note: NO children or parents should be ever subjected to such trauma, unless unavoidable. On hindsight, I had overlooked on getting her teeth checked when she was about a year old and wondered if the decay could be identified earlier and prevented then.
So Parents, please do not neglect the teeth your young children have

The Chronicles of Mr. Neat

Backdate 31st August 2013

Tonight, he began his systematic routine like an inspection officer, running his observant gaze down the hall and living room. Minor adjustments were made here and there on everything - toys, tricycles, books, magazines, until they were neatly arranged.  After being satisfied at how the living room was, he progressed down the hallway for the rooms. 

Starting with my room first, he arranged the pillows neatly side by side and made sure my stuffed monkey sat straightly in the centre between them. He also cleared the floor. Magazines and small items that were strewn earlier by sister were put back on the shelf. And then, in his best small-boy capability, he would straighten my heavy blanket smoothing them down before moving on to his room. Taking great care in arranging the toys in a straight line on the ledge, he would patiently arrange his little Lego characters standing up. And no matter how many times the fan blew those little men down, he would pick them up and place them standing up again. Tonight for some reason, he also saw the need to put a kungfu kicking male figurine beside sister's princess, aligning them side by side in front of the castle. Not exactly Prince Charming for Snow White, but it was his call.

My son is a little neat freak. While that may sound like music to the ears to some parents, it isn't exactly something to be jumping for joy to me. At times like this, he would painstakingly arrange things in such meticulous order that doesn't make sense to any of us, yet making a world of sense to him.

Rigidity is a common trait of autistic children. When the mood strikes, he will have this compulsion to arrange everything in straight order. I'm not sure of the reason, but it normally strikes just before bedtime. And when it strikes, it takes a lot of patience to just stand there and let him do his 'thing', or spending another lot of effort in 'distracting' him.

It would have been a lovely 'wanted' behavior had we all not been waiting around for him to get his routine moving along. This arranging process went on for close to an hour. He would get really frustrated if I interrupted the process or if I told him that certain items didn't need straightening up. In that little Book-of-Routines programmed in his mind, he HAD to finish doing it. And that meant absolutely NO progression to the 'teeth brushing' stage until the arranging was complete.

And it didn't help that when he was  finally, Finally, FINALLY satisfied with his arrangements, the Antagonizer aka sister had to come along and ride the tricycle out of his preassigned lot. Naturally, it got him riled up and it was yet another ten minutes of frustrations and tears, complaining and cajoling later that peace was resumed.

This little behavior is one example of many that he displays. There are many other quirky behaviors, like the fear of wearing sleeveless or the need to button shirts all the way up to the neck irregardless of the weather, that we cannot explain or understand. To be honest, at times his behaviors exasperate me. Many times I would catch my temper surging and I would have to tamp it down before it morphs me into that dreaded Momzilla.

But when I remember that this is the same sweet boy who never fails to give me a big welcome hug when I come home from work, the one who saves cookies that he made in school specially for me, the one who still wants to hold my hand, and the one who says 'Mommy, I love you' every night, I understand that this sweet rigid boy is just being the way that he is. 

The journey with him to bridging the gap to mainstream behavior will be set with many ups and downs like a roller coaster ride. I am not an adrenalin junkie. I am not a fan of heights and fear the feel of free fall that comes along with it. But I will be there sitting beside him on that ride.

Motherhood is definitely not for the weak hearted. I confess that I am not strong physically or mentally, but by the experiences together, it will make me a stronger Mom for him.

35th Milestone

Backdate 20th September 2013

The other day I was looking at my reflection when I caught something winking in my hair. I peered closer and behold! It was a strand of white hair. That to me, was a sign that 'old' is just around the corner. As if I needed to be reminded of my 35th milestone.

At 35, I considered myself officially middle-aged. If we were to take life expectancy at an average of 70, I would already be midway through. I thought now would be a good time to give myself a pep talk.

So, at 35, how has my life been so far? Looking back, I haven't achieved anything spectacular or fantastic or awesome, in any case. But I have my family and loved ones around with me. My mom, cousins, sibling, in-laws and of course my wonderful husband and kids.

I also have a small, but amazing and supportive group of gal pals in my life, often offering encouragements and  patiently listening to my endless tirades of complaints during our gossip sessions.Circumstances at work has also given me the opportunity to move on to a new posting with new responsibilities.

I have also re-started writing again, and more often recently. This was one of the many hobbies that got neglected after responsibilities set in one after another upon adulthood.

And I am thankful. Thankful for these and many more that is in my life. For all the laughters and love, the smiles and happiness, the hugs and listening ears, the friendships that stayed throughout and the new ones forged, the opportunities given and kindness shown, and all the other little things big and small.

In the coming years of 35 and beyond, I hope to learn to be a better person; to criticise and complain less, and to be more appreciative and positive.

Many more white hairs will be a-sprouting along the years to come, and I shall look forward to growing old in grace and with a smile on my face.

Another year older, another year wiser.
Happy birthday to me.  :)

My friendless boy, my little heartache

Backdate 20th October 2013

Some have said that Friends are an integral part of our lives, and I couldn't agree more on that. My gal pals have often provided me with emotional support and encouragements that only they could give, (some topics are truly, only exclusive between us girls).

We enjoy doing bizarre girly stuffs together like visiting the loo, facials, gossiping endlessly on just about anything, the ability to immediately empathize each other's difficulties without the need for any elaboration, sharing our deepest and most embarrassing moments whilst meeting up for 3 hour long dinners, and the list goes on. We have lent each other our spirits, shoulders, eyes and ears whenever and wherever necessary throughout our most emo-moments to the highest points in our lives. I'm not too sure how male buddies bond, but I am sure it doesn't differ much.

Because I believe that friends are such an important part in my life, I believed the same for my kids as well.

The other day, I attended Sean's classmate's birthday party with him. To be honest, all I wanted to do was to stay at home and laze around letting him and sister run amok in the house. That way, I wouldn't need to mingle with the rest of the parents that I knew none of. But I had thought that it would be fun for him to attend the party with his friends. Besides, it would do him good to expose him to more social situations in light of him attending Primary school next year. To top it off, the party was just downstairs. My conscience couldn't live with me being lazy and staying at home while he missed out on all the fun. 'He would have a great time!' I had thought. And so, with the birthday presents and an awkward heart  in tow, I brought the excited boy downstairs.

But I was mistaken.

All those thoughts that I had been thinking of earlier? They were only wishful thinking on my part. When I brought him to the party, I came to realize that the reactions his friends gave him were aloof and distant at best. I had the intention for him to mingle and play with his classmates at the party, but I saw then that no one wanted to play with him. When he talked, no one listened. And when they were queuing up to play games, his classmates cut his queue disregarding him even though he was standing just in front. The reality shocked me. I was appalled, dismayed, disheartened, and above all, I was heartbroken. It was a 'wake up' moment for me then. 

I never had the opportunity to observe Sean during class settings, but I had always thought that I already knew that he wouldn't be a typical, average child in the ways that he thinks and acts. I thought that I would understand even  if he was considered some sort of an oddball on certain occasions. I had thought that he would get by. But not once had I imagined that he would get ostracized. Why do kids have to be so cruel in their own innocent ways? They ignored him, cut his queue and treated as if he was invisible. All the while, Sean looked on quietly, not voicing out at having his queue cut. Maybe he wasn't even aware.

My heart cried for him. For his lack in social skills, for being ignorant of himself being ignored, for the friends that he didn't have, and for the friendships that he couldn't keep. It seems to me that this boy of mine had no friends in school. And for the first time in my life, I was brought to my senses.

While it is common knowledge that autistic children often 'live in their own world', firsthand seeing him being the loner in class broke my heart. Did they not see his friendliness, his good-natured zeal, his gentle character, his winning smile, his earnest efforts? In a disbelieving lie, I asked myself why they could not. 

Would he never have friends? Would he never fit into society? While I understand that these kids were just being the way that they are, it doesn't lessen the stabbing pain I felt for him.

Years ago, I already knew that Sean wouldn't fit into normal social settings like a correct piece of jigsaw puzzle, but I guess I never quite made myself believe it. There is so much more that I had to do. I had to stop living in my bubble and start researching on how I could help him make and keep friends.

At the same time, I also had to educate him that while having friends are great, it is okay to be alone at times. I myself, needed to steer my mentality along that same line. I needed to re-adjust my expectations and start all over again.

That night when I tucked him to sleep, I looked into those bright eyes of my darling boy and felt a renewed determination. However the chips may fall in his life, he will always have us around. And when I hugged him goodnight, I held him tightly in my arms, filling him with as much fierce determination as I could muster. You are my boy, and that is all that matters.

Although there are some things that a Mother would never be able  to replace as a friend, I hope that even as you grow older, you will never forget that you can always turn to me to share your joys and troubles. I will always be here to lend you my spirits, shoulders, eyes and ears

Of Paintings and Dreams

Backdate 10th September 2013

If you had some time to spare after finishing work early, would you
a) Go shopping or,
b) Go home to face the kids and their noisy ruckus.

The answer is pretty obvious for me.

Many things change upon the status 'upgrade' into Motherhood. To name a few, we have much more added responsibilities, baby bags filled with diapers and milk feeds, ugly stretch marks, no more late night outs, no more pack-up-and-go holidays and our mindset. Especially mindset.

Once upon a time not too long ago, my preferred choice for time after work was to spend it with friends. I could go clubbing, la-kopi, shopping or just hang out. Anything EXCEPT going home early. In my previous self-centric opinion, going home early was deemed a 'waste' of time. So why the change in mindset? Somehow, somewhere along the road of motherhood, maternal instincts kicked into high gear and things just went from there. Once those instincts kicked in, many activities that I once enjoyed didn't sound as liberating and enticing as it once had.

The idea of clubbing late into the night didn't sound as 'happening' anymore.Downing cups of coffee and then staying awake because of the caffeine kick would be most un-enticing. We should know that kids are energy draining little people and I would need ALL the sleep that I can have in order to function the next day.

The lure of shopping doesn't sound as irresistible as before. A new dress can wait, because there at home, is a little someone missing you and awaiting your return.

Somehow, spending time alone and without the kids just didn't feel right anymore. I do advocate for me-time, but times are best when spent with them, sharing cuddles and giggles. 

So I went back home, to my kids and to the ruckus. Today, I wanted to surprise them with a new activity - Painting!  (At least from my point of view. They have probably had painting activities a gazillion times at school already.) Armed with a new set of paint, brushes and palette, we embarked on a messy journey of colors, spilt water and smudged hands and feet.While Lauren was enthusiastically exploring finger-painting with splots of blue (her favorite color at the moment), Sean was more purposeful in his artwork. He wanted to paint a picture of a tree in the field with a bright yellow sun in the sky, and a rainbow.

I only assisted a little when he got slightly frustrated because his colors kept mixing and he couldn't get the color effect that he wanted for the sun (hence the sun with a dirty tinge), but that was all I did. I can't describe how proud I am of him in the improvements that he has shown. Being fixated with cars since he was young, all that he drew previously only consisted of, well, cars. He drew big cars, little cars, police cars, cars with six wheels, cars with four wheels, cars with spoilers, cars with blue colored turbo emitting from the exhaust, and the list goes on.

Over the time, he has progressed to drawing pictures of buildings and planes, police badges and people (bad men and policemen), to painting pictures of fields and trees. And this time, there wasn't a single car around to 'kill the scenery'. How far he has moved!

While I am sure they had fun with the activity, I would not know what hobby they will pursue eventually, or if they will even pick up painting when they get older. My wish for them will be that they will have the courage and passion to pursue their dreams and the ambition to make it into a reality. 

In turn, I hope that I can be supporting them from the sides, in whatever way I can be, in whatever pursuits that they may choose. And more so that I will not fall in with the stereotypical-mindset that certain preferred hobbies are more practical than others, thus pushing them into doing something that they do not enjoy. 

So, dream your dreams my little ones. Imagine touching the stars and the rainbows in the sky, and we shall pursue those dreams together.♥

-10092013-

Lynette's Thoughts

3rd September 2013

I think, I dream, I ponder, I wish.
I reflect, I imagine all the things around me.
I wonder about this, I mull over that.
But all of these thoughts only stay in my head.
My mind is full of thoughts, of words and of questions,
But all that I say, may only be a sentence.
Speech eludes me when I try to speak.
My thoughts run all awry, stage fright methinks!
I express myself much better in words.
Written, they seem like released caged birds.

Home

Backdate 27th August 2013

Toy cars were strewn all over the floor. Folded paper aeroplanes lay bent on the ground. Wooden blocks were scattered around dangerously. Assortment of toys were littered everywhere and the kids were making so much noise! 

The sight that greeted me when i stepped out of my room was not a happy one. I was angry at the kids for the mess they created and was in the mind to hunt them down for a good scolding!

When I spotted them, they were playing with the tricycle. Brother was pushing sister on the bike and because he was pushing so fast, she was squealing with delight at the exhilarating rush! At the same time, brother was also giving her instructions on the directions to steer - 'Turn left mei mei! Turn left!' But because mei mei hadn't quite yet differentiated her right from her left, she was having difficulty following the instructions, which in turn caused Kor Kor to shout louder at having to keep repeating the instructions. 

Oh, but they were having fun. They were on an adventure trying to rampage the obstacles that littered the path, and  avoiding my poor unsuspecting dogs lazing on the floor. After a few rounds, mei mei got tired of the game and got up. The seat was immediately taken by Kor kor, who went on to tell mei mei that it was now her turn to push. And push him she did. That little skinny monkey actually had the strength to push the brother around!

The sight warmed my heart. Because you see, in the beginning, kor kor didn't know how to share. He didn't know how to play with others and lacked skills in many areas that we weren't even aware until he was diagnosed. (He has ASD.)

Among many other skills that he lacked, he also had difficulties in his speech. He didn't understand where 'behind', 'in front', 'on top', 'below', 'in' and 'out' meant.  He didn't know how to climb up the ladder of the slide, his muscle tone was weak, he was constantly drooling and he doesn't look at us when we talk to him or when answering our questions. (I later learnt that this 'eye contact issue' was a Big Alert.)

These were skills that many parents would take for granted from their kids, but we had to work very hard behind the scenes to get him to where he is now. We were arranged for sessions after sessions of therapies at various locations, and the days all passed by in a blur ferrying him everywhere. It was during the sit-ins of one of his therapies that I learnt the importance in this seemingly simple activity.

I learnt that through this simple play, kids pick up innate skills like taking turns and sharing. In my opinion, such behaviors would subsequently affect their social skills and in turn, affect many other areas in their life that accumulate and make up the attributes of how the child would eventually turn out. We all know that autistic children mostly have difficulties in social skills and adapting to the norms of society.

So when I saw my son playing with his sister, taking turns and sharing, it really warmed my heart. I was encouraged to know that he was learning to pick up the threads of acceptable social behavior and at the same time reminding me of the leaps and bounds of improvements that he has made. 

And above all, I was reminded of the reason why we wanted to have two kids instead of just one. We wanted a playmate and companion for him and here they were, accompanying each other, playing. I took a moment to acknowledge and appreciate the laughters surrounding me, and of the fun they were having.

Yes, the house was constantly  messy and the floor always strewn with toys. Some parts of the walls were smudged black from little dirty hands and accidental pencil marks. Corners of paint were chipped off from the impact where toy cars flew from 'accidents' staged by my little car fanatic. Little stickers adorned my coffee table, window, fan and whatever sacred corners my girl chose, and a big portion of my wall was patchy because a layer of paint was scrubbed off when we had to use cleaning agents to clean scribbles.

My place wasn't spotless or neat and it certainly wasn't show flat material. But to me, it was perfect. This place had laughter, tears, squabbles and joy marked in every corner and room.

It wasn't simply a house. It was our Home.
A place where our hearts belonged. ♥

Sean's Journey

5th July 2013

5th July 2013 marks a milestone of a different kind. After 3 years of ferrying Sean everywhere (St Luke's Hospital, Sengkang CC, KKH, SGH) for all sorts of therapies (OT, ST, PT) he was finally diagnosed  as an ASD (Autistic Spectrum Disorder) kid.

I remember when he was born, he was an extremely cute baby! Big eyes, rosy cheeks, infectious laughter and all. My colleagues and strangers would randomly and often comment on his adorable-ness. 
However, for as long as I can remember, he was always drooling. So much so that I had given up trying to teach him to keep his mouth closed and instead, bought him thicker and bigger bibs! He used to have rashes over his chest and neck areas if his saliva soaked shirt stayed on his skin too long. So we had to constantly change his bibs and tops. Even till now, he would still drool especially if he was concentrating very hard on something.And his eye contact was very bad. We couldn't get him to look at us whenever we called him. He had to be constantly prompted and encouraged to look at us. And whenever he did, it would be a kind of unfocused look.

His speech was another issue altogether. While he could articulate words and his wants to us, he was always repeating what we said every time we asked him a question. It would be like, 'Sean do you want to drink water?' and he would reply 'you want to drink water?' back. While it was amusing at the beginning, I was beginning to get exasperated and worried. 
I had long dreamt of having a conversation with him when he was a baby, anxious for the day when he grew him up and when I could have a chat with me. I thought that it would be so nice to ask him how his day was at school, or what his favorite colors and foods were. But by age 3, he still wasn't able to have such conversations with me. His cousins of the same age could speak so well by then! I was envious.

I did voice out my worries, but well-meaning relatives played it down by telling me that 'year end babies and boys are usually slower' (he's a November baby). While I didn't agree with them, I let the situation slide. For either my lack of knowledge and/or escape  from reality, I chose to believe them and 'ignore' my son's condition. And for that, I am regretful till now, wondering if I had made my stand and got him diagnosed earlier, would we have been able to bridge the gap much more then we have?

Things finally got to a turn when I brought Sean to a pd for a common ailment when he was about 3 years old and I asked to do an assessment for him. While she said that it wasn't common practice to do the assessment out of the age group, she obliged. After the short assessment, she confirmed that there was something worth to take a closer note of. She arranged a doctors appointment for us, but the earliest date that we could get was about six months away. That moment seemed like a revelation of sorts. We now knew something was wrong but not know what.

That six months wait was sort of Iike a limbo, at least for me. During that six months, I lived in feigned ignorance. I lived my life as if nothing had changed.

Of course that all changed after the doctors appointment at the hospital. She had arranged rounds and rounds of therapies for him.

Occupational therapies, physio-therapies, speech therapies and early intervention schools to mention the least. I exhausted all my leave that year ferrying him everywhere for the various therapies. Like a headless chicken, I was lost and didn't know where to turn to, where to go, or who to ask for advice. Of course we could have gone private, but the prices were too high for us to afford. So instead, I blindly followed what was on the schedules. The years that followed passed by too fast. I switched schools for him, from a kindergarten to a full day child care, and on top of that, he was enrolled into EIPIC. We had to juggle his various therapies, school bus routes and many other details  too fine and many to type. 

Previously during weekends, hubby and I would take the opportunity to sleep in and relax the day away. We couldn't afford that kind of lackadaisical life ever since, brainstorming of various places and activities to bring Sean so that we could further expose him.

School wise, he was definitely not progressing as well as his peers. He was constantly having difficulties with phonics, choosing to memorize the words instead of using the phonetical sounds. The teachers have, in their own well-minded thinking, asked if I would consider putting him up for extra phonics enrichment classes to help him improve. Like any kiasu parents, I probably would have, if not for that one incident.

I remember one heart breaking moment when one day, Sean with all his big, woeful eyes, told me that he didn't want to study so many schools. It was that point that I decided that no matter how slow he progressed, I wasn't going to put him for any enrichment classes. I thought that for a 4 year old boy, attending two schools and countless therapies was already too much!

Fast forward to the present - at 5 years 8 months, we finally have a proper diagnosis for him and a doctor's recommendation that he is able to attend mainstream primary schools. 

To be fair, Sean has certainly improved by leaps and bounds since the beginning. His drooling is much more controlled now, and although his eye contact still needs constant prompting and encouragements, he has improved tremendously! Also, he is speaking so much better now. I am able to have some sort of a conversation with him although due to his attention level, it usually is rather short. But I can now know his favorite colors and foods. At least I can sneak a peek into this little mind of his and understand him a little more. And although we now know that he can attend mainstream schools, we aren't exactly rejoicing over that because knowing that his weakness is in language (he has difficulties processing speech and language), he might have difficulty catching up when the syllabus gets tougher.

While we don't expect him to excel academically, I hope that he will at least enjoy his schooling days. I have been trying to psych him up for Primary one in anticipation for next year and so far, he seems to look forward to it. 

Has our journey ended with this diagnosis? On the contrary, it has just begun.

Pretend Play Dress Up

Backdate 30th July 2013

♥Pretend Play Dress-Up♥

Logo & Crown: $0.70 (jotterbook recycled paper)
Cape & Skirt: Free (old linen napkins)
Amusement & Laughter: Music to my ears
Sheer joy & Happiness: Priceless

While watching tv earlier on, Lauren suddenly blurted out 'Mommy, I like to dress up as a princess!' and Sean who was sitting beside her chirped in, 'I like Superman! 'Cue Me-the-Mommy, who asked 'Ok, so who wants to play dress-up?' Immediately, resounding 'ME's chorused loudly as they danced around doing singsong 'Me's.

Did I share the same enthusiasm as them? Of course not. It was a long day and I was tired. The only thing I was enthusiastic about was maybe a spot of tv watching before bedtime. But neither did I have the heart to disappoint them. So off we went to play dressing-up.

All the time my brain was churning out 'creative' (read as cheapest, least fuss and messy) ways to 'dress them up' as we had actually nothing to begin with. In the end, I settled for good old paper, Scotch tape and colouring pencils. I didn't think there was much else I could scrap up at 8.30 at night.

In bid to get them involved, I made Lauren draw and colour the 'jewels' of her crown herself. Her writing skills were still quite weak so I had to help with both. I dug out her bag of accessories and she chose a necklace for herself just like the cartoon character  'Princess Sophia'. Short of letting her change out of her pj's into a dress, I tied a red-patterned old linen around her waist as a skirt.

Then I cut out a diamond shape and drew a big 'S' for Sean to colour on his Superman logo. He must really like this activity because he was colouring the letter nicely within the lines and in good strong strokes! I asked him if superman needed a belt and he said no, but he told me superman needed a cape. So I tied an old linen napkin around his shoulders for the cape.

Scotchtape-up whatever odds and ends together, the logo to the t-shirt and VOILA! Superman and Princess were done! The whole process probably only took about twenty minutes but the boy was raring to go!

Once I told him it was all done, he zoomed outside to show grandparents and aunty. I am thankful that I have really sporting and supportive in-laws who were laughing and praising him. Lauren who was a little more shy, was seen hiding behind kor-kor and his cape for awhile before venturing out to show herself. I'm sure the kids provided some laughter and entertainment to the old folks tonight.

Soon after, enthusiasm dwindled and it was time for bed. It signaled the end of yet another exciting and tiring day for all of us.

I agree with some people who say that having kids are a challenge. And although today's challenge was a different kind, it was nevertheless still a challenge. As parents, we face a myraid of challenges daily in handling our kids. For some, it's trying to get the child to listen and follow instructions, or like in Lauren's case, it's a mammoth task trying to get her to finish her meals.Today, my challenge was in challenging myself out of my lazy mindset and how I could entertain and engage the kids, given basically no time to prepare.

In return, I learnt from them that they didn't need elaborate props or toys. More important was the time spent with them and the imagination to make everything as Super as possible! What we did today was a simple activity in every level. But we had fun! Instead of leaving them to watch tv, I'm glad for the spontaneity of the time and activity spent with the kids.

I hope that in their dreams tonight, they would be dreaming of themselves as invincible as Superman and as beautiful as a Princess.

On hindsight, I think I did quite a good job on superman, unfortunately the princess didn't turn out quite as imagined.But it's alright. I'll improve! :)

Trip to the 'Ly-Bear-Ry'

Backdate 28th July 2013

Lovely Sunday
♥ A Trip to the Library ♥

With kor kor spending a sleepover with the cousins and papa on a cycling trip, I thought I'd spend some quality time with my baby girl by bringing her to the library.

We took a short bus ride and had a quick breakfast refuel at 'Old Town'. She extra-dipped every bite of her French toast with kaya (oh, such a 'sweet' girl), and I spent the time in between her bites trying to correct her 'ly-bear-ry' to 'library' without much success. After my coffee was drunk, I gave up and we headed for the 'ly-bear-ry'. 

The same girl who had told me that we 'must keep quiet' upon entering the library, was in no time running around randomly pulling out books to browse. Within awhile, she had selected quite a few and we had accumulated a rather tall pile of books on the table. (My apologies to the people who had to shelve the books back later.) I tried to read to her the ones I thought she would enjoy, but somehow, maybe my choices were wrong as she wasn't interested enough to stay until I finished one book. In the end, she chose a big Thomas picture book and we settled down on that for awhile. 

Since I needed to get her back for her shower/lunch/nap routine, we couldn't dally as long as I'd have liked. I quickly picked a few Dr Seuss books for kor kor and before we left, I showed her how to checkout and return the books, teaching her that these books weren't ours to keep. There was to be no colouring or scribbling on these books because we had to return them to the library after we were finished reading. She seemed to have understood, but I wouldn't take chances. In meantime I would need to monitor those itchy hands closely. 

We were lucky we didn't have to wait too long for our bus to arrive. On the way home, I showed her how to press the bell when we were about to reach our stop so that the bus could stop for us. I guess as all kids do, she asked to press the bell another time but I said no, and explained briefly why we couldn't.

Time passed so fast during enjoyable times. I really enjoyed our mother-daughter bonding time today and in the process, having the opportunity to give her a very brief but interesting life's lesson. Hopefully she enjoyed the day as much as I did.

I am glad to have painted some nice and meaningful pictures on my little 'paper' today. Although it is only her second trip to the library, I hope that with time, I'd be able to nurture her love for reading like I did when I was young. 

Till the next time, Ly-bear-ry. :)

Dream Bedroom

Backdate 7th July 2013

The kiddos bed that we ordered 2 days ago arrived yesterday.  (Ikea can be so efficient sometimes.) And yesterday, we spent a blissful night with the kids on their new bed in their 'new' room. So far, we're getting  mixed responses from the kids.What  we get from Sean is excitement, excitement,  excitement,  and gleeful delight. He climbed up the ladder slightly awkward at first, but I'm sure with daily practise, he'll be climbing up to his bed like a monkey in no time. Once he climbed onto his new but empty bed, he immediately he started down to  grab all his sleeping accessories, (smelly bolster is a definate MUST) and began arranging them neatly on his upper bunk. We were so relieved to see this. At least half the battle was won.

We met with much more resistance from Lauren on the other hand. She was much more hesitant and reluctant to try the bed. After much 'forced' persuasion from Daddy (I was crashing out as I had worked the night before,) she managed to spend her first afternoon nap there yesterday. And now, after 45mins, I'm still trying to get her to close her big eyes for the second nap.

Although it seemed that the bed was ordered in such a haphazard sudden rush, hubby and I had previously dropped by Ikea and looked longingly at the bed many, many times. The bed caught our eyes firstly because Ikea displayed it so prettily. But most importantly, I zeroed in on the bed because the upper bunk was low. So low that it was enough for a shortie like me to be able to monitor Sean with ease (ie: no need to tip toe or climb up the ladder to spy whether he's secretly digging his nose etc). The pushing factor for us to decide to sign the purchase was because the bed was on SALE. (I repeat again from my previous post, which woman can resist that 4-letter word??)

And so, plus mattresses and delivery charges, $600 flew out from our pockets just like that. We felt that this amount, though not stupendous, wasn't a small sum either. But we thought it to be an investment of sorts. Topmost on the list, was for a better sleeping experience for our kids. I did not think that a foldable mattress had sufficient support for their growing backs and bones. And the fact that they were growing bigger and older by the days, our room was starting to get uncomfortably squeezy. I was anxious for them to move out of our room asap.

The gambling factor was that if the kids did not like it and not want to sleep on it, we would have a white elephant in the house and a waste of money. We talked through the several  scenarios that might happen, and the possibility that they might not want to leave our room like magnets. But after having invested so much, we told ourselves that we HAD to make it work. There would be no room for failure. We would work hand in hand for our dream to become a reality.

I believe that in the next few weeks, we would busy ourselves in doing up the room. There is still so much more I want to do for them to make the room as cosy and as conducive as possible. I'll need nightlights,  luminous stickers, set up a proper study and writing space and so many more.I'm excited and so are they.

Hopefully we'll get closer to our joint ideal room soon.

Poem To Sean

Backdate 2010

Here's something I wrote to S about 3 years back.

To Sean,

I hold your little hand in mine, in time this hand will grow.
From abc's and 123's, to words and sentences that flow.
Your little steps one at a time I guide you as we go,
To skips and jumps you run about, your character I mould.
As time pass by, this hand will grow bigger than Mommy's hand.
Will you be always willing to hold my hand then?
When I grow old, white hairs will sprout all over my head.
And as I slur in old age speak, will you be patient instead?
Arthritis may catch me and as I hobble slowly down the road,
Will you guide me and gently hold my hand and walk with me back home?  

From, Mommy. Dated 14 April 2010

I guess it encompasses all the usual hopes that a parent would want from their kids.
Love, filial piety, and the life expectancy to be able to see our child grow up, from a little helpless baby into an independent and successful adult.
Unfortunately, that would also mean that old age and all sorts of diseases and illnesses that come along with it would creep up on all of us.
There wouldn't be a best time for everything - when we are young and healthy, they are helpless and small.. then when they grow up into sucessful independant beings, we would be old and fragile.
But there would be good times along the way, beautiful and fun moments. It is how we choose to view life and from there, forge out the journey that will be unique to each of us.

Pretend Play Camping

16th July 2013

In bid to increase Sean's pretend play skills and on his request that we 'go camping', I had promised him the night before that I would 'build him a tent' after I came home if I didn't have to work late. As it happened, I was able to come home early and he eagerly sought me out the minute I reached home to 'play camping'.

I assured him that I would after I had my bath and dinner, and he 'yay'ed happily away. Lauren went along with all the excitement and ra-ra the brother was showing although she didn't quite understand what was going on.

After a quick shower and meal, I gathered both of them and together, we began embarking on our quest for the night. We managed to build a rudimentary tent using Sean's blanket and 2 chairs, and he helped by placing pillows in strategic corners for his own unexplainable reason to close up the gaps.

It really was just a very simple structure, inadequate in every way to be called a 'tent'. But to the kids, they were full of excitement and were having so much fun in the process!

Lauren hadn't quite yet grasped what camping was, so I gave her a very brief introduction on the spot, helped by Kor kor who chipped into the 'knowledge sharing session' that 'Doc Mcstuffins also got camping'. She still didn't quite understand, but  played along anyway.

We pretended to see stars in the sky and then, because we couldn't have a campfire, we talked about imagining one.Sean added on that we could 'cook marshmallows' over the campfire and 'tell ghost stories'. By then, the excitement and his attention were almost waning off, so to cap off the 'camping experience', I told them an imaginery story that I had made up on the spur about a lonely star up in the sky who was looking for friends. I didn't think he was paying much attention as he looked preoccupied playing with his cars. Lauren on the other hand, sat listening enraptured.

After I finished telling the story, they helped to keep the blanket, pillows and chairs and then off he went to watch his nightly cartoon routine of Tom & Jerry, little sister in tow. I didn't think too much of this imaginery experience because when I tucked him to sleep at night, he seemed to have all but forgotten about it. Even when hub came home from work later, he only mentioned about the 'camping trip' in a one-liner.

The next morning however, the minute Sean woke up, he started telling us about how he was 'in a rocket just now' and that he 'saw many stars'. We understood that it was his way of telling us about his dream. Although I am not sure if my random story telling somehow caused him to dream about being in the sky and with the stars, or if there was even a link between these incidents, I feel humbled knowing that what I say or do might affect how he dreams or even think. For me, it goes to show that my actions, thoughts and speech would subsequently some way or another, affect them.

Lauren is already a pro in imitating the way I put my finger to my mouth when I'm deciding between choices, and Sean follows closely to my tone and pitch when reading a storybook out loud.

They say kids are like pieces of white paper and it is up to the parents on how and what we want the paper painted. We all know that it is the truth, but because there is no absolute right way on parenting, sometimes we need incidents like these to drive home the point that what we do really does affect our kids.

It is a humbling experience for me to know that I am tasked with the heavy responsibility of filling up good and important stuffs onto these 'pieces of papers'. The road to imparting them the skills, knowledge and values will not be an easy one. We have to constantly watch how we carry ourselves, act and speak with others. As a reminder to this noble responsibility, I will take effort to remember the effect we can have on them and the little lessons we are constantly learning from them during our life's journey.

Sean may have some learning difficulties but he has really come a long way from where he was. It is a big milestone for us in being able to prepare him for Pri 1 next year, and although I don't know how well he will cope or what his learning journey will encompass, I am proud of my boy for all his accomplishments so far. I expect that our road ahead in his quest for education be fraught with many difficulties and frustrations. And I know I have so much more that I need to improve on. My temper and patience are top on the list. I hope that in those trying times, I can re-read these little journals that I have written and remember the experiences learnt along the way.

In our current cookie-cutter society, grades do account for a large part of our education system. Hub and I are mentally prepared that Sean may most likely not excel in school (and be part of that nerdy geeky group that we wouldn't mind him being), and we are worried about his future. As much as I hope, I do not know when or if he will eventually catch up with his peers. We cannot control how his brain works. What we can do however, is to try and equip him with skills and values that would shape him into someone useful and with good morales. We also need to remind ourselves that although grades are important, it is not everything, keeping our eyes on more important aspects like happiness and health of the kids and the loved ones around us.

It is that time of the year again, when kiasuism rears its head in parents of all 6 year olds. I know I cannot be part of that group of parents that jostle for a spot in the 'well-known' schools. Bearing in mind Sean's learning abilities and capabilities, we have set our sights on a school near our home instead as it will be convenient to send/pick him up from school.

As he begins his first step in his 10 or so years of institutionalized learning, my wish for him will be that he will enjoy himself in the learning journey and in the process, discover what he does best, and ultimately excel in them.

Thoughts of a not-so-thrifty Mommy

1st July 2013

Was at an Accessorize sale today, (SALE!!! How many women can resist that??!! No sirreee, not me. The word calls out to me like a plush, red carpet waiting to be walked on) and the kiasu cha bor in me immediately began picking out lots of pretty stuffs for Lauren (& myself included, thank you very much.)

After one round of joyous binge shopping, I looked into my basket and realised that all the items I had picked were unnecessary. (Okay, so who buys necessities at an accessory shop?)

The sensible mama mode kicked in. Does Lauren REALLY need this hairband or yet another set of bracelets?? Or this bag??

After FIVE long minutes of delimma, I threw caution to the wind and bought ALL of it. (Fine. I put one back just to make myself feel better.) But seriously, what good is having a daughter if you can't doll her up??

To my friends here with daughters, nieces & granddaughters, say 'AYE' if you can totally empathise with me.

His Last Birthday..

It was his birthday today.

She had pondered over what to get for him before deciding against it. How she loved him. How much she wished to celebrate his birthday once again. To buy him a cake and a gift, light up the candles and then sing him the birthday song. Every birthday in the recent past years had been special and happy, and somewhat bittersweet.

Until this year.
There was nothing happy about this birthday.

With great care, she lit the long red candles and put them in place before the wax dripped onto her hands. Then, together with the joss papers, a bowl of Mee Sua and his favourite fruits, she arranged the items neatly in front of him at the Columbarium.

Lastly, she lit three incense and waited for the fire to smolder out, dazedly watching the wisps of smoke spiral upwards. He would have been fifty five today if Leukemia hadn't taken her Dad away four months ago.

Upon setting the incense sticks in place, she then sat down and wept.  How much she missed her Pa. How much she would have loved to celebrate his birthday with him once again. To sing him a birthday song and watch him make a birthday wish before blowing out the candles. Then watch him cut the cake and open the present she bought.

Every year since she was a little girl, she would organize something to celebrate his birthdays. Be it a cake and present, or a dinner out someplace he liked, she never forgot. Because of his illness and its unpredictable condition, his birthdays in recent years had been even more special and cherished as she knew that every another birthday meant that she had been blessed with an extra year with him. And she treasured every single moment there had been to grasp.

For this year's birthday, all she could offer for ‘presents' were the stacks of gold and silver joss papers and the incense sticks as candles. ‘Celebrating' his birthday had taken on an entirely different meaning this time. Tradition bound, today she was tasked for this new purpose.

This birthday would be his last birthday she would celebrate for him - she told him, as she made out the words silently in her heavy heart. Henceforth, only his death anniversary will be remembered. Why celebrate the birth day of him when he had already died? The day that her Pa left for another world would be the new date to remember.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A time for Laughter, a time for tears.
A time to remember, a time to hold dear.
A time to stay, another time to go.
Even after you left, my heart still mourns.
You lived your life, all 55 years,
But will always be remembered and missed in tears.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was once, not too long ago, she could chat with her Pa and laugh with him. Tell him about her work and listen to him tell her about his thoughts and opinions. They enjoyed slow walks together after dinner, strolling through the neighborhood. She remembered the sound of his voice when he was talking about how he spent the day and how it felt to hold his arm while walking beside him.Now, all she could hold on to, were these precious memories etched deeply in her heart.

And all she could talk to, were his ashes kept in the urn behind the marble block that separated them.

In reality, more than just a marble wall stood between them. They now belonged to different realms. She could still visit him, talk to him, and tell him about her day. But this time onwards, there would be no replies or laughters from him.There would only be silence.

You would have been fifty five today.
Happy last birthday, Pa.

Dated 4th September 2006Written with a lot, a lot of love & misses for you.Daughter Hui~