Road travels with little people - Malaysia

Sin - KL - Genting - Sin

Packing for a road trip was much easier then for a flight. Since the boot and empty front passenger seat were to be our store and pantry throughout the journey, that meant that I could pack almost everything I wanted and needed for the trip. While the rest of us were all cramped up together in the back seat, at least that meant more leg room - a relief in the limited confines of car space.

As this was our virgin road trip alone with the kids, we kept it fluid and short. I packed clothings for hot, cold and rainy weather, counted out diapers and formula feeds for Little L, picked out an array of snacks and buns and little packets of milk, filled up 1.5l bottles of extra drinking water, threw in a colouring set, and with a borrowed gps, we were good to go.

As with kids however, every one of the items that I had painstakingly thought to include, were of no importance to them. Afterall, anything that I had packed were of little significance once they had ipads clutched in their tiny arms. Our fault really. But it's become a 'tool' now, one that I am loath to do without. It can keep the kids happy and occupied, and is a great 'motivator' to get them to do what we want. Which usually only mean one thing - sit quietly, so that we can concentrate on getting something else done. Like, deciphering the gps directions when we keep having the words 'route recalculated' flashing on the screen, or becoming squinty-eyed while helping hub spot if the road sign with the really small font 200m away is indeed our correct turn.

There are only so many activities that I can plan and occupy in the many hours while sitting cramped up together in the car. And since my kids are especially sleep resilient, that left me with one less option.  Put me 2 hours in a moving vehicle and off to lala land I go. I don't know how they managed to keep awake 3/4 into the journey before finally nodding off for a total of 45 minutes max. Okay, I digressed. But as you can see, the ipad is really such a wonder. Back to the start of the journey.

We planned to leave our house at a gawd-awful-jam-avoiding time of 6.30 but we managed at 6.45 instead (very good efforts) and cleared the causeway by 8.15am (very, Very good efforts). Shooting down the north south highway at a pretty average speed of 130km/hr, we occupied the next few hours breakfasting in the car, having our buns and snacks, colouring, and of course, playing on the ipad. I was kept very busy opening up little packets of biscuits and crisps, unwrapping sweets, wiping up crumbs and dribbles, preventing drinks from spilling, fillings on the breads from falling, and many other little tasks my ocd could pick out and manage. I was like an octopus with all its eight arms occupied. Time pretty much flew as we were all probably still hyped up on enthusiasm of the trip.

Halfway through, we made a pitstop (can't remember which one) for some food and a much needed toilet break. As with all the stops along the north south highway, the food served was only passable at best and its purpose was to fill up hungry tummies under the bo pian act. Still, kids and adults alike were glad to stretch our legs and backs, and give our bladder some release.

As soon as we were seated at the foodcourt, we were 'attacked' by swarms of flies which insisted on descending relentlessly everywhere around us and scaring the kids (especially L) so much, that we were forced to retreat into Baskin Robbins (next door) after a few quick bites of our mee soto and mee siam. I would have snapped a picture of the avalanch of flies if my hands weren't so busy trying to shoo them away.

The kids, who were relatively happier now that we were away from the flies, somehow weren't able to muster up much appetite for the cold treat. Either the flies had killed off their appetite, or that the excitement of the trip had finally given way to weariness. As we continued on, the second leg of our journey was comparably much more tiring since both energy and enthusiasm had fizzled out.

The kids managed some more half-hearted colouring and snacking, and finally, after 2 hours and a thousand 'Are we there yets?', we arrived at our hotel (Parkroyal, and lucky us to have a free upgrade), checking in around 1pm. The kids did a quick initiation of the luxurious bed, rolling around and jumping on it, and then we headed out for a late lunch and some proper food. To our growling stomachs, we have finally arrived at KL.

Kidzania

The days at KL passed by quickly as we explored the malls around our hotel on Day 1 and Kidzania (the highlight of the trip) on Day 2. I was pretty excited about bringing the kids to Kidzania. Unfortunately, since they didn't know what to expect, they didn't share the same level of excitement as me.

We arrived at Kidzania after a lazy breakfast and by then, it was already packed with kids and adults. Several schools of children were spotted walking around everywhere, and some popular 'occupations' had a long queue snaking round. The fireman for example, had a wait time of about 40mins! It was pretty tricky trying to choose and prioritise which activity we wanted to queue for, as L was too young for most of the occupations and S was only open to a very limited choice. And since I had booked the a.m slot, that meant that we had only till 3pm before the session was over.

We let them have a go at being a police officer first as both ages qualified and they were keen to participate. Even though we were next in line, it was still a good 20mins of standing and waiting in the queue. When it was finally their turn, they were brought into the 'station' and given a 'briefing'. Then they had some fun patroling the 'city' in their oversized uniforms and hats, caught a 'burgler' and even received a warrant card at the end of the activity.

Realising that we were running on limited time after that, Hub and I decided to each bring one child around to save time. S adamantly wanted to have a go at being a car driver but unfortunately, didn't meet the height requirement. My little (would-be) racer was really disappointed at not being able to drive the mini car and rejected all other alternative activities after that. We had to half coax, half coerce him into trying out a few other occupations and after much encouragments, we managed to get him to participate in being a pump attendant, a supermarket shopper and a painter. I was glad to see him having fun and the smile back on his face. "Mommy look! I got money!" he would proudly show me his 'earnings' from each 'job'.

 

L on the otherhand, had her first makeover session at the beauty salon. Since she was too young to be the beautician, she could only participate as the customer instead. Then she went on to become a supermarket cashier, sporting a super cute look in her cashier uniform.

 

After a tiring activity-filled morning of queues and crowds, we left Kidzania close to 3pm for a spot of late lunch. The kids themselves were tired of all the queuing and were starting to ask to go. Looking back, perhaps S and L are too young still to understand the concept of having a job or an ambition. Or maybe they were just overwhelmed by the crowd and the whole place. But overall, I hope the kids had fun trying out the few occupations that hub and I guided them into, gained some knowledge and exposure of having a job, and also the experience of 'earning' their own money. 

Personally, I feel that this experience would better benefit S and L when they are slightly older (and taller), and when they would already have an idea of what they want to be when they grow up. Perhaps we'll plan the next visit in another 2 years.

Kidzania is linked to 'The Curve' - a huge shopping mall, and we spent some time exploring there for awhile before making a detour to Puchong for an errand, and finally heading back to KL for the comfort of our hotel room.

Genting Highlands

The next day we headed for Genting. It was a much awaited trip for me as I have not been there for close to ten years. Although I had been pre-warned over the renovation works going on, we decided to still go ahead with the drive up.

With the gps, it was really pretty easy driving up to Genting Highlands. From KL, the journey only took slightly more than an hour. The roads were wide and nice, and the air was super shiok, although I must admit that the reno works were a real scenery killer.

We spent some time circling the car park choosing a nice, big, not-too-ulu spot to park, and after some navigation at the very noisy, very messy, and very crowded lobby, we finally checked in to First World Hotel (couldn't manage to book the better hotels), for a um, mediocre room. Even though I had booked the second best tier of the rooms available, it was still a far cry from the poshness and comfort of one we stayed the night before. Just as well we were only going to stay one night.

The kids had loads of fun at the indoor playground and arcade. S had a go at the kiddy bumper car as (hopefully) compensation on missing out on the drive at Kidzania, and hub indulged him in the car races at the arcades. The big smile pasted on his face thereafter indicated the level of fun he was having.

On the otherhand, the look of wonder and pride that I caught on L's face on each ride that she dared to attempt alone, like knowing she was a big girl now, was simply heart lifting. My baby girl is growing up so fast. That night, we retired to bed close to midnight, sleepy and spent. It was afterall, the last night of our holiday.

The next morning, after a quick breakfast (included in the hotel coupon) at a very big and messy cafe, we checked out simply by dropping the keycard into a machine. Compared to the check-in process where we had to queue to register, get a queue number and then queue again to check-in, the differences were vastly, for lack of a better word, different.

Reflecting back on the trip as our car slowly wound its way down the highland slopes, I realised that Genting was exactly as I remembered from eons ago - loud, crowded, messy and overwhelming. The only saving grace was the weather, that like a breath of fresh air, rejuvenated and freshened us up.

From Genting, we drove back home non-stop (save for a 15min toilet break) and arrived in home's warm embrace in time for dinner. Perhaps it is really for the better to expand and renovate for a more pleasant experience in future. Till the next time, Genting. I will look forward to seeing you again after your renovation is complete.

It was a lovely road trip with Papa and kids.

Eagerly waiting till the next one.

Chronicles of Mr Rigid

Tonight, I had a grumpy, whiny, angry and frustrated, crying boy.

A mixture of unhappy emotions that he had difficulty venting off, steeping and boiling inside of him, clawing away at him.

He was extremely unhappy with me because I had not allowed him to play with the ipad.
Even though today, was his Sacred Ipad Day.

When the emotions were finally too much for him to take, he showed his displeasure by attempting to spit saliva, shouting, and relating his anger and unhappiness, in stumbled sentences and wrong phrases.

His difficulty in translating how he felt and what he thought, into verbal words, was even more evident as I watched him struggling to explain himself. At that point, all my anger dissipated.

Long ago before he was diagnosed with ASD, and when he was much younger, we would let him play with the ipad/iPhone everyday, and for hours on end for some. With the ipad, he could self-entertain for hours and you wouldn't even hear a peep from him. Which didn't seem like such a bad idea at a party or wedding dinner when we could mingle or catchup with others instead. Life seemed good then.

Post diagnosis, much reading up and many advices later, we gradually stretched from daily, to every alternate day, and to the current - once every four days period. I'm not sure how Hubby struck the deal with him then, but he did. He even took the opportunity while counting down towards the next ipad session, to incorporate teaching S the days of the week. We've been on this schedule for quite some time now, and things work out jolly well for most of the times.

Rigidity is a common trait of ASD kids and so, I shouldn't be the least bit suprised that S sticks very closely to this routine. He anticipates these 'sacred' days like clockwork, when he gets to play with any game on the ipad (although usually only sticking to youtube and nfs) for two fantastic, undisturbed, unrestrained, joyful hours. Nothing that we say or do can disrupt this 'sacred', untouchable, no-change, no-disruption-to-routine day.

Today however, was when his 'sacred' day coincided with a ton of homework to complete and chinese spelling to learn for the next day, all to be completed within 2hrs.

I was trying my luck at negotiating, giving him the choice to play for only a short period today, or delay one day for a full session tomorrow instead.

Despite explaining a gazillion times and in all manners, he wouldn't hear me out, rejecting my explanations at every turn. He couldn't understand what I was trying to put across. In his own interpretation, all he understood were the words 'NO. IPAD. TODAY.' Which clashed with his pre-programmed 'ipad-every-fourth-day-and-that-day-is-today' mindset.

Long story short, in the end I had to compromise to avoid a meltdown. He was allowed to play for a short period first, with no 'payback' of the time lost, and homework after. We managed to complete his homework and spelling slightly after bedtime.

And just like that, because he got to play on the ipad, even though it was only for a much shorter period, his anger and frustrations melted away and he turned back into his cheerful, pleasant, and contented self.

Some things are just so difficult for us to grasp but for him, it's just that simple.

In memory of Pa, 8th year.

In the blink of an eye, 8 years have passed.
Time it seems, passes by so fast.
After your death, I learnt many things. 
Things that I would never have dreamed.
I learnt that the world doesn't stop revolving.
That life carries on, forwardly moving.
I learnt that you were easily replaced in other's hearts.
The life that they had, didn't need you much.
But for the world that I lived in, I felt like time stopped.
The pain in my heart; senses all blocked.
And then, very slowly, everything resumed.
And memories of the dying-you no longer loomed.
I can look back in smiles, with eyes that are dry.
And know that time heals even the most painful goodbyes.
♡

A Glimpse Of You

Something I wrote in 2008, six years ago, when the loss of my dad was still very much painful and raw. I had missed him terribly, so much more then the times now.
It's hard to describe how this poem came about in my head, but I remembered vividly on a bus to work one afternoon, I saw, no, glimpsed the side profile of this man sitting at the corner of the bus stop. For one split second, I truly thought that I saw my dear papa again.
In a flash, the bus moved off going onwards in its journey, leaving the man further and further behind, and a fresh knife wound in my heart.

Here goes...

My Familiar You

A glimpse I caught, and then the bus moved.
I thought I saw someone that reminded me of you.
That same walking style and familiar silhouette.
That same side profile, and your almost hairless head.
The same way you used to carry your bag
The same everything, except that you are already dead.

A profound sadness then washed over me,
I thought for one moment, I saw you, Daddy.
I close my eyes and imagined myself
Breathing in the scent, of you and your soap smell.
And of how it felt like to hold on to your arm,
Chatting and talking to everything under the sun.

How fast time flies, in the blink of an eye
It’s been two years, since we said our last good byes.
After your death, I had feared I’ll forget you
In time to come, it seems to come true.
It seems that you are thought of, less and less often.
It seemed to me that you are almost forgotten!

In times like this, suddenly I remember
Of you and your being, and of how it all were.
Tears somehow, well up in my eyes,
As I recall how we spent those times
Laughing and sharing your favourite foods,
I miss those moments. I know they are gone for good.

Unwittingly, your memories get pushed further back
In my Heart and my Mind, everything seems packed.
Then I remind myself to dry my eyes,
That you are now living in paradise.
Watching over me and everyone,
And watching over Sean, your baby grandson.

Growing old

When I get old and hairs turn grey
And memories slowly fade away.
My eyesight fails and I can't see
Crippled by arthritis I may be.
My creaky joints, I hobble slow
Catching my breath as we go.
I lose my hearing and, 'what did you say?'
You find yourself repeating things many times, every day.
Will you find me a bother, maybe a nuisance,
Dislike spending time with me, can't stand my presence?

My child, it's not that I want to be
This useless old woman that became me.
There was once long ago when I wasn't like this.
When I could soothe and comfort you with just one kiss.
When I could pick you up when you fell down
And you loved it when I swung you round and round.
I used to be able to do everything.
But I can't do them now, I'm old; I'm aging.

The price that I paid as I watched you grow
Was me being me, and growing old.
I'm not the mommy that I used to be
But in my eyes, you will always be my darling baby.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

Inspired by a stranger whom I had chanced upon one day while I was on my way to work. She had a head full of grey hair, which was neatly tied into a ponytail. 

Standing behind her on the escalator, she got me thinking about how I would be when I grew old.

A little sad, a little wistful, but aging with all the illnesses that come along with old age are passages of time that we all have to go through.

Morning routine

4 months on into school, the differences that hub and I observe when we prepare our darlings for school are glaringly obvious.

Not being much of a morning person, S normally prepares for school in silence. He wears his uniform in auto mode, but fusses over his shoes and socks in a goldilocks manner, adjusting many times over until he is satisfied. He goes through the "too tight!", "too loose!" and "not comfy!" phase before becoming 'just right'. 

And while waiting for the arrival of his bus, he stands there quietly dazing away, (I'm guessing) into his missed sleep like a zombie until the bus arrives. He then boards the bus, and without a backward glance, off he goes to school.

L, on the otherhand, is much more of a conversationalist and a slow coach. She can take forever to get her teeth brushed and changed. Once she's ready, my princess will walk out dressed in her uniform, and normally with an
array of mismatched clips on her head.

Take yesterday for example, there were clips of flowers, a giraffe and a rabbit perched in her hair. I suggested for her to remove some, prefering a simpler look instead, but she insisted to keep them all on. For a 4 year old, this may well be the start of her statement of fashion.

While walking her down to the bus, she would be making chatty comments along the way on not touching this flower or that because 'it will poke your hands' or how nice the 'bouganla' (she means bougainvillea) looks. 

And after she boards her bus, I will have to stand rooted at the same spot because this girl will give me goodbye waves until the bus turns out of sight.

I stand there waving away until the bus disappears from my view and then slowly make my way to work.

A brand new day beckons.
Good morning to all.

Auto mode: ON

What is the meaning of 'auto'?

According to dictionary.com, it is:

A designated condition or status in performing or responding to a problem.

From a parenting point of view, at least in my personal context, being 'auto-mode' simply means that the child is able to self help and settle problems on their own without needing us to lift one finger, or even to supervise. 

To say the obvious, I'm not refering to 'fire burning the house down' type of problems. I mean the daily aspects of going to the toilet / washing of hands / playing quietly by themselves kind.

At this point, I might sound like a lazy parent. And I admit that I am to a certain degree. But surely every parent can empathise with the 'agony' of being at the beck and call of your child's every need. More so if your child is in the toddler/preschool range. And if you have more than 1 child, that need is multiplied by the respective numbers. That can amount to quite an overwhelming number of requests/demands to entertain daily. Afterall, we only have one pair of ears and hands to handle.

Children are never the most patient little people around. They don't understand the meaning of the word 'Wait'.

You mean you're in the midst of the loo?

Completing that report due first thing tomorrow?

Watching that last 5 minutes of the last episode of your favourite drama?

Well, their unrelentless 'iwantitnowiwantitnow' can practically drive us crazy. 

Imagine being able to fast forward life to a few years down the road when they would have been old enough to operate in 'auto-mode', how much more carefree our lives would be? I can only anticipate with glee.

But since we can't just hit the fast forward button in real life, we'd just have to slug it out during these in-between growing years. 

I am currently in the process of crossing that bridge . Elder boy who is 7 is already pretty adept at almost everything. If I can keep my eyes one closed, then he probably CAN do everything. Right down to sticking his head into the fridge for 'aircon' relief, or retrieving his car from some dark and dusty corner.

Sister at 4 has barely made halfway mark. She tries very hard and is making great 'progress' but needs more 'practice'. She is able to lug a chair to elevate herself when washing hands at the too-tall sink, but isn't fantastic at getting her hands cleanly off soap or safely back down. She is stubbornly autocratic in her choice of clothes and in  wanting some things done her way, but throws selfish tantrums when they don't go as planned.

The examples go on as we cater to their demands and whim, bargaining and exerting our stand every single day. It can get back-breakingly tiring and the days seemingly neverending. 

And then one day, I came across this.

From it, I am pointedly reminded of how little-a-time we actually have with them as kids. By breaking the years down, I realise that these back-breaking, tiring and frustrating years are only so short. That I must cherish these moments now because time will never return me back to these kiddy moments again. 

There is only that little few years we have with them thinking the world of us, of them wanting to hold our hands, welcoming us with big hugs and wide smiles after a long day's work, bedtime snuggles, laughing and playing with wild abandon, and showering us with all that innocent and unconditional love that they have.

There will come a time when our children will not be children anymore, morphing into this rebellious teenager in the process, pierced body parts, tattoos and all (figments of my imagination). And suddenly just like that, they will take off with their new found wings, leaving their hugs and snuggles behind like an outgrown teddy bear. My heart will ache for their little kisses and my ears will miss hearing their laughters ringing at home.

Suddenly, a lump in my throat forms and time fast-forwarded doesn't seem so appealing anymore. Instead, I wish for a 'pause' button to stand time still so these moments will never disappear into a memory. 

Life doesn't rewind (sound familiar?), and it doesn't come with a 'pause' or 'fast forward' button either. 

So, while 'slugging it out' during these frazzling back-breaking, tiring days, I shall persevere, cherishing and nurturing them until they reach auto-mode status. Until then, I will take every hug, every kiss, every snuggle and laughter that they have to offer, and return it double-fold. 

And then truly, when the time comes for them to fly away, I hope they carry with them fond memories of their childhood and growing years.

And as I stand grounded proudly looking up at them soaring in the skies, I would reconcile the beautiful memories of them growing up with the beautiful adults that they grew up to be, and know that somewhere along the way, I played a part.

**********

Afterthought:

And most certainly, I'll (try to) not cringe (too much) at the piercings and tattoos that appear along the way. 

At least my parents didn't. And I wouldn't.
Ok, I'd try! Promise.