Our Artsy Farty Weekend

Artsy-Fartsy in our context simply meant a trip to the Art Science Museum. We were lucky to get tickets to the Treasures of the Natural World and Future World so off we went to be tourists for a day.  

The kids had been to Future World previously but not the Treasures of the Natural World, so it was a new experience of sorts.  

Thankfully there was no crowd and after a quick scan of the tickets, we were a-cruising in.

The Treasures of the Natural World reminded me of the show ‘Night at The Museum’. And it shouldn’t be surprising since the movie’s setting was also at a similar museum. There were many interesting exhibits on display including a cursed amethyst (which kinda freaked the boy out), a pair of very long (2m I think, each) water buffalo’s horns, (really reflective) silver beetles, a mummified cat and fossils of several prehistoric creatures.  As you can see, I’m not very culturally or historically inclined and we basically went around quietly reading the description off the artifacts and ‘waah’ed at the ones we could identify. 

Here are a few of what we saw.

 

Boy at the sabre-tooth cat exhibit. I jokingly told him that the cat brushes its teeth cleaner than him because the teeth were so stainless! (See, no plaque!) Lols..

"Look! A Dodo!"

    

Siblings enjoying the 3D show on Dodos.

Somewhere in the middle of the museum, there was an activity section where kids (and adults alike,) could try their hand at folding their own 3D tigers and orang-utans. Afterwards you could choose to hang them onto the rainforest backdrop or bring them home. These two, they did both. They folded two each and stacked them onto the existing stacks (cos no more space to hang), and brought home another two as souvenirs.

 Proudly showing off their creation.

We zipped out and in from the Natural World Museum to Future World. Once we were in Future World, (again, thankful there were no queues), we saw a short queue forming outside the first exhibit. There, being the typical Singaporean with the kiasu mindset, we stood in line without knowing what we were in for. 

It was actually an awesome light display with dizzying effects! Literally. I found it so beautiful that I kept turning round and round the four walls trying to take in all the lights and displays, and follow the birds zooming around, until at one point in time,  I had a case of motion sickness and got really nauseated. But that was probably only me. The others, as you can see, were enjoying the spectacular experience thoroughly. 

Somewhere further down, there was this really beautiful pretty slide, adorned with colourful flowers and fruits! I couldn’t resist having a go at it and basically threw my bag at hubs so that I could join the kiddos on it.

  

Spot L slip sliding down? She’s basically not the very adventurous kind but this was too pretty for her too miss! 

  

Me taking photo of Daddy taking photo of the kids. 

   

It’s raining symbols!  

And once you touch the symbols, it will turn into the respective animation that the symbols mean. Only here can you make mountains and fire with your hands. Very clever.

 

And here is my favourite piece.

Very soothing and magical  to watch. I can stare transfixed at the changing lights, imagining myself in the dark sky surrounded by stars.  Unfortunately, one cannot stay inside for long as there are other people queuing in to go in. :(

Dark choc lipstick on the boy! 

Ice-cream after the visit while chilaxing outside of the Art Science Museum.

Bye beautiful blooms!

Bye beautiful view!

The Girl Who Loved Weeds.

A patch of grass always interests her. 

She’d slow down her steps, shorten her stride, her eyes searching, hoping to catch  the ‘elusive’ clusters of touch-me-nots. 

“Wait mom.” She’d say. 

If timing permits, and we are not rushing to anywhere in particular, we’d stop and spend a minute or so, searching together. Eyes skimming through the sea of green, for small pink flowers and palm-like grasses.

She would be delighted if we spotted some. She'd touch them gently with her fingertips and watch them close shyly up, or sweep her feet dramatically over them in wide arcs. It really depended on her mood. 

And we’d be squatting there side by side. Mother and Daughter sharing a moment, admiring the slow closing of the leaves and the wonders of nature. 

Other times, we would be looking out for the dandelion-looking weeds. The ones with the small balls of puffy white heads. She would pick those gently and with care, because using brute strength would only shake the fluffy bits off. Then with a deep breadth, she would huff away at the little feathery seeds and watch them float away in the wind. 

My girl is a tender heart and appreciates the little things in life. The small, simple gestures that big Brother is often apt to overlook and miss out on. 

She enjoys the occasional little notes I slip into her pencil case, and she’s more thankful and appreciative of the little gifts I randomly buy for her. Every single stuffed toy that she was given or bought, sits in one big happy crowd at the head of her bed. She even has ready names for the mynahs that she spots off the road (usually Meena and Mona), and greets every spotted-neck dove she sees in our estate as ‘Tweet-Tweet’. (We had previously rescued and nurtured a baby dove for a week then before releasing it back to the wild. And since then, every such dove would be addressed and greeted by her.)

Like all girls (and her mom), she gravitates towards aesthetically pleasing sights and appreciates the beauty of a sunset-hued sky or the magnificence of picturesque clouds. Wild flowers that grow around are often picked off and presented to me in an array of a colourful bouquet. 

For all the sweet and thoughtful nature that she is, I am aware that she will not forever remain this tender-hearted, innocent baby girl of mine. For now, a big part of her influence comes from me. But as the years pass and as she blossoms in her own time, her circle of friends will expand. And so will her sources of influence. Even then, I hope that the eyes of her heart and soul continue to seek and find joy in the little things in life. 

Because for wonderfully big things to happen, we must first start with the little ones.

Yoga Lessons in Progress

This is me in my new yoga pants, in an attempt to blend (read as look professional) in my new yoga class. 

I have been talking about learning yoga for a long time now. Three years is a long time to be talking about the same thing. And we all know, when no-action-talk -only (NATO), it leads to nothing. So when the opportunity presented itself, ie happen to pass by the community centre, I grabbed the 'join-member, book-the-class and good-to-go!’ experience.

For my first lesson, I imagined myself arriving calm and early, gracefully unrolling the yoga mat at the good spot that I had selected, and then settling down to wait patiently for the instructor. 

Instead, I arrived late, couldn't find the stated room, panicked, and pulled at almost every door I saw along the walkway. When I finally found the room, the class had already commenced and I had to tip toe embarrassingly across the rows of professional yogis all already stretched out on their mats, to my class situated right at the other end of the studio. 

Hurriedly I unrolled my dusty mat at the only spot available and found, to my dismay, the ends of the mat curling upwards from years of being wound round. I tried to look as cool as I could, but the best that I could conjure up was the scene of Aladdin on a flying carpet. And a dusty one at that. 

I quickly got into position, imitating what the instructor was doing. “Leeeesen to your body,” she kept emphasising. We started with deep breathing exercises and as I was having a slight cold, it was hard inhaling deeply through whatever parts of my nose that were left unblocked. I tried to concentrate on my breathing, but all that was going through my mind was regret on why I did not think to clear my nose before coming in for the lesson. Did I not listen to my body or did it not tell me?

We did some simple stretches next and even though the positions were nothing difficult, my joints were creaking in protest and my stiff hamstrings were silently screaming throughout the lesson. But the worst was my tummy. The dreaded sweet potato I had for breakfast made massive amounts of gas form and roll about inside asking, no, demanding to be released. It was a sheer torture. 

It wasn't easy trying to breath in deeply with half a blocked nose, stretch with muscles like a 70 year old, and all the while, with the conscious knowledge of gas trying to release themselves. 

Thankfully, the lesson ended without any incidents and although I may be a far cry from the calm and poised disposition that I imagined myself to be, it was a good start all in all. I might have strained my toes while trying to execute a 'rock-scissors-paper' stretch, but hey, more awareness of my toes now. I’m listening to ya!

So, till the next lesson, Namaste. 

And no more sweet potatoes for breakfast from now on. 

The Day We Went Shopping For Guns

The Day We Went Shopping For Guns.

Legos ones that is. 

The array of small, minuscule, tiny weapons laid out for his choosing was probably what a display of Japan-imported snacks and confectioneries was to me. 

He poured over the vast display laid out in the boxes as I stood there waiting impatiently for him to make up his mind. 

My tired legs ached. 

“Are you done yet?” 

The tables were now turned as it was my whiny voice that urged him to choose faster instead. I repeated my question three more times for good measure. Mostly to irritate him and pay him back for all the times he did that to me. 😂

He paid me no heed as he concentrated on the little pistols, ak47s and accessories. His little Lego men needed them. They needed arsenals, helmets, masks, bulletproof vests and goggles. 

And I desperately needed a seat and a nice cold drink. 

We left the shop an hour later with (according to the boy,) a P90 sub-machine gun, a G36C sub-machine gun and a Scar assault rifle. 

I have no idea what those are or where he gets those information from. But I do know that I left the shop a little poorer, and with renewed light for my boy. 

And that was the day we went shopping for guns.

Afternoon Randomness

I was looking all professional, typing furiously away on the keyboard like I was some certified typist with several National Typing Academy degrees under my belt. 

Click-clack-clack.. click-clack.

In truth, I was typing as fast as I could and making a string of spelling errors, and then having to furiously depress the backspace bar to re-type the words again. So there I was, in a constant state of typing and deleting and typing again. 

The arctic temperature in the lands of the Eighth frozen tundra didn’t make it any easier. My fingers all stiff and numb and frozen, were akin to icicles extending from my palms. It was a great opportunity to blame my lousy typing skills on the office ac. 

Just then, my phone rang and I dove to pick it up before it’s fifth ring. 

Oh hang on - That was my own handphone, and not the office line. 

I answered the call and a little voice on the other end greeted me. 

“Hello Mom! It’s me! Wanna hear a joke?”

Puzzled stunned for a moment, I answered her. 

“Oh hi sweetie. Sure!” (I guess..)

“Okay. Why was the pelican chased out from the restaurant?” 

Without pausing for my reply, she carried on, 

“BECAUSE it had A HUGE BILL! Geddit??”

And then she went laughing hysterically all by herself on the other side of the phone. 

Well. So much for 冷笑话 and afternoon randomness. 

Frozen tundra and all, her random call this afternoon brought a much needed ray of sunshine and warmth to my soul. ❤

SA2 papers upon us!

The exams are upon us.

I made full use of the psle marking days and the brief days before that by throwing paper after past paper at S to complete, then spending my nights after dinner dragging my feet around to mark those scribbled answers, before going through together on those questions answered wrong, in equal amounts of exasperation. (His, because he doesn't understand what I am trying to explain, and mine, because I don't know what I'm explaining to him either.) 

The way the questions are phrased in the papers these days already pose a challenge to a general number of kids. For a boy with language processing difficulties, this challenge is easily amplified threefold.

In my moments of weariness, I raise my voice unintentionally as the frustration of having to repeat my explanations over and over unsuccessfully to him, get to me. In his moments of exasperation, he yells back "Mom, I don't understand the questions! Can you make the English easier so I can understand?!!" 

And I'll try explaining the answers to him again. Nicely. 

As the SA2 draws its net nearer with each passing day, the sense of fear and dread and impatience that is welling up inside of me has become a ripe bubble on the cusp of bursting. 

Today was the final dash we had before his papers start tomorrow. But instead of being in a state of anxiousness, a sense of impatience bursts through and on impulse, I think to myself 'F*ck this sh*t!' Let's just get the exams over and done with. We are so not doing any more mugging.

So today, the kids went for a leisurely swim, we then went out for a wonderful dinner, gallivanted briefly in the mall and went for a fun filled spin at the car wash before finally heading home to end the day. 

I needed this sanity just as S needed a break. 

"F*ck this sh*t!" I say to myself, imagining me throwing the papers away like the internet meme. 

Give  me a minute as I bask in my false sense of bravado. 

And then, before the minute is over, I'll quietly pick those papers up. 

I know I'll need them again tomorrow.

Against the swelling tide of education, there is only this much bravado I can retaliate with before reality sets in.

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

To my dearest boy, 

The exams are upon us. 

So here's the strategy -

Don't leave any questions blank, read carefully, check through your answers again and good luck!

Think of the PS4 waiting for you at the end of the storm. 

Think of the treat at Saizeriya you made me promise you after your papers. 

Think of all the rolling good times that you will get to play during the holidays. 

Keep your eye on the prize Son, and go do your thing. 

I love you and all the best!

Little L going places

I never did like cycling. 

And my late-dad, the traditional man that he was, was never nurturing or patient enough to teach me how to cycle. 

The first time I rode a bicycle was during my first year at poly. I lost my balance when the bike hit a drain and ended up dislocating my wrist bone when I fell. 

It was around noon then, with the sun high at its peak. I left for home but was afraid to tell my parents of the incident. It was only at night when my dad urged me to shower that I had no choice but to tell him the truth. I couldn't move my wrist, much less manage in removing my sweat-dirt stained clothes for a shower. 

We promptly took a bus to a sinseh where the very painful treatment left me nauseous with black spots of dizziness. I recovered after a few weeks but I never touched a bike again until many years later. 

I suppose in part, that with such an unpleasant experience, I felt it a necessity for my children to learn cycling (and swimming). These were life skills that I wanted them to acquire. 

So when Little L displayed a willingness to stop piggy-backing on Papa's bike and to try learning cycling, I jumped at the opportunity to teach her. With Papa leading the rambunctious boys away for a ride, I stayed behind with her. 

She was a ball of nerves as she sat on the bike - hesitant and tense and fearful. The park was dark and with not too many people around, which was good for someone wibbling widely between both lanes. 

For the good part of the hour long rental, she was just trying to find her balance, cruising along by pushing the bike with her feet. Only in the last 20 minutes did she managed some semblance of balance and attempt to start pedalling. 

I at first held her seat and handlebar while running along sideways like a crab. Her fear was palpable as she pleaded repeatedly "don't let go, Mommy don't let go." 

I tripped over her feet several times and nearly fell, bike and all, for another few. When my stiff waist and back finally protested enough, I assured her that I would always be close behind her but she would have to continue trying without my assistance.

For her small frame, she was soon exhausted. Her legs hurt and her arms and back were strained, but she never wanted to give up. She just kept going and trying, wobbling around until suddenly, she could. 

As I was frantically snapping photos of the monumental moment, I realised that I could not stop smiling. Every time I caught myself grinning like an idiot, I made myself stop smiling only to have the corners of my lips lift automatically up again. So there I was, standing behind her with this big, goofy smile pasted on my face. I was so very proud of her and of the determination and grit she displayed that night. 

So here we have her, just succeeding in learning how to cycle. It was an achievement unlocked. A new milestone. A proud mama moment. A start to night cycles as a family; something that Papa had always wanted to do. 

Little L will be going places.