Charm

I love to complain.

Each time 911 is late, I'll complain. Sometimes to my husband, sometimes to my sister, sometimes I'll just call the SMRT hotline. How can I not complain? LTA says that 80% of buses come every 10 minutes (or some statistics like that). But a feeder bus service like 911? It's just not right that I have to wait 40 minutes for the bus! 911E comes instead. 911E that terminates at the interchange. I need that 911 to fetch my daughter, okay? So I end up taking a taxi sometimes. I get real agitated when the bus that I want doesn't come within 15 minutes.

But that is what life is like in Singapore, isn't it? Things function like clockwork. Or almost like one. We are so used to things happening when it's supposed to happen that we get all riled up when it doesn't. We are just not used to waiting - perhaps for a short while, it's okay; even then, during our short wait, we'll be fiddling with the gadgets that we surround ourselves with. 

My friend Suraya lives in India. She's there because her husband works there. I've always thought that she's making the mother of all sacrifices by leaving Singapore. I sound so jingoistic. But reading a recent blog entry from her made me see why people don't necessarily want to uproot themselves from India. And it is also no wonder that there are so many great writers that hail from India.

Yes, she had to wait more than, a whole lot more than my 40 minutes to get her train. But there's something about the long wait, the uncertain arrival time and the train journey that is so lyrical and poetic. It's charming. And the experiences that her boys go through are things that no born-and-bred-in-Singapore-kid can ever get. Charming.

Oil

1. Once again, I missed a meet-up with friends.

It's becoming too much of a habit.

For weeks, I look forward to the day of the meeting. Then, the little one will fall ill. Not just a little cough or a bit of the sniffles. No, oh no. A full-blown something, it has to be.

Today, I'm supposed to have some dear, dear friends over.

Three days ago, Farah developed a fever. No problem, I hoped. Saturday would be the third day and she would be okay by then. Maybe it was just a low-grade fever related to her teething. But of course that wasn't the case.

On Friday night, her temperature soared to 40.9 degrees. We gave her the suppository medicine and her temperature went down to 38.5.

In the morning, it shot up to 40.1 and we packed her off to the clinic. At the clinic, we were referred to the hospital. After blood and urine tests were conducted at the hospital, she was allowed to go back.

The reason for her fever? Possibly viral fever.

She's been having fever almost every month and she does not even go to school (where she can easily pick up all these bugs). The doctors said that although it is rather frequent, it is not a cause for alarm. As it is, she's seeing a doctor at KK for regular check-ups after her bout of bronchiolitis.

The blood tests done today and another one done last month (when she had fever) showed that the haemoglobin levels in her blood is rather low. Her red blood cells look paler and there are more ovalocytes. (I think that's what the doctors said. I'm really quite lousy in all these science things. Ask me about cation and anion if you don't believe me.) Anyway those things point to two possibilities: thalassaemia or iron deficiency. If it's thalassaaemia, I hope it's just the minor one and no further treatment needed. If it's iron deficiency, then, there are supplements to help her. I just hope that there's a cure to her monthly fever.

Aaaaaanyway, coming back to the main point, last month, I was supposed to meet another group of friends. You know how difficult it is to plan meet-ups when you get to this age and everyone is busy with their own lives. So, when a window of possibility opens, you grab at it and make yourself available. I was sooooo looking forward to seeing my friends from uni days but Farah was sick and as one of my friends had given birth to a preemie (29-weeker!), I would not want my kids going anywhere near that girl and sharing all their germs with her.

Two months ago, it was a gathering of my friends from primary school that I had to miss. See the pattern?

TheHusband told me not to talk about future meetings and gatherings in front of the kids. We will just whisper to each other and we won't even write it down on the calendar at home lest the kids look at it and decide to fall ill on that very day.

Random picture of a girl at a hospital today. Picture inserted to give your eyes a break from all the text.

2. Since I'm talking about my dearest Farah, I will continue talking about her.

She is now 1 year and 2 months old.

I am quite sure I have done more than my share of worrying during Huda's era so now with Farah, I am a lot more relaxed.

At 1 year 2 months, Farah is just learning how to walk. She would take two or three steps before tumbling down. Sometimes, I think she just enjoys crawling around. That way, she can inspect every square inch of the floor for dust and bugs and other strange stuff found on my floor and eat them up. She thinks she's a vacuum cleaner.

And only now, at the grand old age of 14 months, her teeth made their appearance. 4 of them decided to pop out of her gums at the same time. She's been a toothless baby for the past 14 months. No complaints there because I'm still breastfeeding her and a toothless baby is much easier on the, erm, on the, erm, on the body parts which it involves. :p

Speech? Hur hur. She can call out for me. She does not seem to have a name for Ayah although sometimes she seems to call out Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa for Huda. Besides that, bird is buh. Cat is buh. Bus is buh. Tree is buh. MRT is buh.

But, I'm not worried. Huda was a late developer too but she is all fine now. So, take your time, Farah.

3. Huda is 4 years old now and she has an insatiable curiosity for everything. The Whys are coming very very frequently. Why does it rain, Mak? Initially, I would tell her the story of the water cycle but it's much too boring for her and she didn't understand my explanation so she'll ask again and again. I've since learnt to tell her that it rains so that the trees can drink water.

She's into pretend play now and she often pretends to be a teacher to her roomful of students. Sometimes it's a cashier. She's going to visit a farm next week with her classmates so I bet she's gonna be a farmer next.

She has finally, finally (!!!) started sleeping through the night and her toilet training is complete. She's off diapers for good.

4. I've signed the girls up for Kids Run at the end of May PROVIDED none of them falls ill on that day. (Sigh. Why do I have a bad feeling about this?) Anyway, to prepare for the 800 kmm race, we have been doing some practice rounds ourselves. We are very sure that Huda can cover the 800m but I'm not all that confident about me. I am just lousy at PE. I confess that throughout my entire life from primary school to junior college, I have never run the entire distance of 2.4 km. I am one of those people who always always stop to walk. And worse, when I was in JC2, each time we had to do practice runs for the 2.4 km event, I will fake all sorts of illnesses and so the only time I covered the distance was during the actual test date. (Funny how I ended up conducting PE classes.) So, you see, fitness is never my thing. And that is not how I want my girls to be. That's why I signed them up for Kids Run, hoping that they'll have an early start to a healthy lifestyle.

5. This entry has taken me a long time to write. I've been here since 8.30pm and now it's 10pm. Goodness.

Gonna stop now and hopefully, the next time I update won't be such a long time from now.

When allowed to make her own choices, she'll end up wearing a red T-shirt with an orange skirt and turquoise pants.

Quick Quick One

This is supposed to be a super quick entry. I'll type everything that's on my mind now and then post it at the end of the session. Hopefully before Farah wakes up from her morning nap.

1. Farah caught HFMD and Huda got it a week later. It was terrible for F who had about 10 ulcers in her mouth. H had 2 ulcers only (one on each side of the inner cheek - and even then, the left side appeared after the right side disappeared) but she being a drama queen, her reaction to the ulcers were, well, dramatic. F didnt want to drink milk or eat and her diapers were dry. It was as traumatic for me as it was for her. But, thankfully, now both girls have completely recovered and I hope they will never get it again.

2. During this episode, my parents were not in Singapore! Boohooohoooo!! I am not a very efficient SAHM, you see. I always escape to my parents' when the girls are not feeling well. *guilty giggle* This time round, I had to do everything on my own. What a grown-up I felt like.. :P

3. Talking about growing up, years ago, my sister told me that when she turned 30, she would change all her skincare products to SK2. She was using Clinique then. Apparently, 30 is the age when your skin starts ageing. At that point, I figured that I would start taking care of my skin when I turn 30. Prior to that, I was using my sister's Clinique product (when we were still living as singletons in my parents' household) and after I got married, I washed my face with my husband's Kao Biore for Men. I know that I am extremely hopeless. Now, some 2 years plus plus plus after turning 30, I'm still using my husband's face wash.

I had been lucky because the skin on my face is very hardy and can tolerate all the nonsense I do to it (and what I don't do to it) without leaving much of a blemish or a scar. But, not anymore. Some kind of cosmic revenge, TheHusband calls it, but I've been having pimples appearing very, very frequently in the past 2 to 3 months. And they don't disappear, Thankfully they are small ones but they are still there.

So, it's time to start some kind of proper routine.

(If you are doing multi-level marketing and want to promote your products to me, please don't call me for an appointment. Just tell me about it via email and I will decide. Don't hound me, please. Thank you.)

4. More about ageing. My tastebuds are changing. Which could be the reason for the pimples. I've always liked plain water at room temperature and I had no interest in any form of sweetened drinks. Lately, however, I've developed a liking for orange juice, bandung, copious amounts of tea with milk. Aiyoooo. It's frightening.

As it is, I'm hardly exercising so all these sugary stuff isn't good at all.

5. About exercising - I need to build up my stamina. I was, shamefully, breathless after a short sprint for the bus.

6. But now, let's talk about food. Heh. My parents brought back the most succulent and tender leg of lamb from New Zealand and my mother cooked it last Sunday. I know I sound terribly deprived but that was the best ever member-of-the-sheep-family I had ever eaten. I didn't even need much to satiate myself. It was so tender, so sweet, so rich, so so so sooooooo nice. And it was probably be the only occasion in my life when I would ever eat that but it was enough. (I had heartburn for 2 days after that but it was worth it)

7. And now, for the main reason why I wrote this: 14 & 15!!

My parents' 14th and 15th grandchildren made their debut on the 3rd of March! They are not twins. 14 and 15 are children of my younger brothers. #14 was born in the morning of the 3rd of March and that same evening, mother of #15 was admitted to the hospital for an emergency C-section due to a low level of amniotic fluid. Alhamdulillah, both mothers and both children are fine.

When you are not the one who's just had the C-section, those babies look really attractive and I just want to cuddle each one and bring them home. But when you are still suffering from the post-C-section pains, all I want to do is just lie down and sleep. This paragraph is mostly a reminder to me to not get too excited about the babies because (a) they are not mine so I can't bring them home and (b) if I do have #3, the pains will be worse because it would be the 3rd c-section.

8. Now, I have pictures aplenty to upload. But, as always, they will all have to wait. (Wait for what? I also dunno.)

I want to sleep, Farah!

I am so sleep-deprived.

For a few months, this Farah slept through the night.

Then, she decided that it was fun waking up at 3am.

Now, she has made the decision to wake up at 10pm, 12mn, 1am, 3am, 4am and 5am.

If I ignore her, she will start wailing. And then, Huda will wake up whining, "Mak, Farah bising." Mak, Farah is noisy. If I choose to ignore Farah, Huda will start sobbing, "Mak, Farah nangis. Dia nak susu." Farah is crying. She wants milk.

But, no, she doesn't want milk. Because, when I pick her up and cuddle her and rock her gently, she goes back to sleep.

Two nights ago, I was terribly exhausted and wanted to just ignore her crying. She managed to stay awake from midnight to 4am, alternating between little sobs to full-blast wails. It ended at 4am only because TheHusband couldn't take it anymore and so he rocked her gently to sleep.

In the daytime, she refuses to nap on her own. She will breastfeed to sleep and will remain asleep as long as she's in my arms. The moment I put her down, it's as if I put her down on a bed of nails.

I am exhausted. Should I go to the zoo and beg the zookeepers for a tranqulizer dart?

Help!


Update: 26 February 2010 - She had a very stubborn fever last night. Temperature shot up to 40.1 degrees despite the 4-hourly Panadol. This morning, when she cried, I peered into her mouth when she cried and saw many, many ulcers on the roof of her mouth and at the back of her throat. Doctor confirmed that it's HFMD. This justifies her waking up twice every hour last night.

Famili

I have another post waiting to be published but that one requires some nip and tuck. This is what's foremost on my mind now.

My grandmother has Alzheimer's disease, of which dementia is a symptom.

She has three children - my mother and my two uncles in Kuala Lumpur. She has her own kampong in Malacca but because she can't remember if she has eaten or not (among many other things that she has forgotten), her children take turns taking care of her. In between Kuala Lumpur and Singapore, the caregiver will send her to Malacca first where a good neighbour will take care of her for a few days before one of her children picks her up.

It is challenging taking care of people with dementia. They can't remember where they are, who we are, who her children are. Sometimes they can't even remember which stage of their lives they are. And so, at a ripe old age of 80, they are still calling out for their mothers.

I admire my mother's strength.

Many many years ago, my grandfather - my father's father, gradually lost his strength. He was lucid but he was weak. My mother took care of him, bathed him and fed him. We helped my mother to bathe and feed our grandfather and clipped his toenails too. But my mother was the primary caregiver.

Now, I see my mother once again playing the role of the dutiful daughter and take care of my grandmother even though it's emotionally taxing.

I wonder about me.

Will I have the same patience and strength as my mother?

I wonder about my children.

Will they have the same patience and strength as their grandmother?

I pray and I pray that all of us have infinite strength and patience and love to see all of us through our darkest days.

Farah and A Collection of Thoughts

I've been writing this since the 3rd of January (but only published this today, 27 January) so all time references are definitely way off.

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KIDS

1. I always gush to theHusband about how adorable the children are when they are sleeping. I have to resist the urge to rain them with hugs and kisses when they are asleep. When they are awake however...

HUDA

2. Huda is getting a bit cheeky in school although I'm not sure whether she knows what she's talking about. She came back from school and as usual, she would tell me about random stuff which happened there.

Among the topics covered was about being a bride. She asked me if I wanted to be a bride. So I told her that I was a bride on my wedding day, when I married Ayah.

She then said, "Huda pun dah kahwin. Huda dah kahwin dengan H----." (I've got married too. I married H----.)

---

The next day, we were on the way back home from school. She suddenly said, "Alamak! Huda lupa lah nak tanya H---- dia nak kek apa. Huda nak belikan dia kek." (Alamak! I forgot to ask H---- what cake he wanted. I want to buy him a cake.)

---

Sigh. What am I to do with my cheeky little monkey? Anyway, the boy's name is not written out in full so that his parents won't come banging on my door for whatever reasons.

FARAH

3. At 11 months, Farah can now pull herself to a standing position, cruise around while holding on to the furniture for support, clap her hands, wave goodbye and point to her nose. She can smile and laugh on demand. And she laughs when she sees other people laughing, especially her sister. She seems to direct the word 'Ma' to me and 'Dada' to her sister. She hasn't cut her first tooth yet although she acts as if she's been going through severe teething pains since she was 4 months old ~ sheesh.. the drama queens my kids are...

4. Farah is still petite-ish but I do not worry about her small frame the way I used to worry about Huda's. This is because Farah actually eats. And, boy, does she eat!

While Huda refused to even take one bite (literally - before the food even entered her mouth, she would clamp her mouth shut and shake her head violently), Farah readily eats whatever is offered to her even if I don't like the taste of the food. She has brown rice with sishen (tastes awful but apprently is healthy stuff and can help build up her immunity, so the eu yan sang woman told me) for breakfast, porridge with fish and an assortment of vegetables for lunch and dinner. Still no salt in her diet. In between, I stuff her with baby crackers and fruit.

And she's still on breastmilk. I hope I can continue breastfeeding her til November this year. After that, I have to start weaning her off cos I'm going back to work in 2011. (shudder)

5. Farah no longer sleeps in her cot. We've dismantled it because it is a cause of great sorrow to us. Our sleep is affected by it. How so? It's getting too small for her so every time she moves about in her sleep, she'll get frustrated by the knocks and she wakes up crying. Frequently. In the middle of the night.

So, she now sleeps on a mattress on the floor and someone else also insists on sleeping there with her because she likes to touch Farah's hands. *rolls eyes*

And yes, both of them are in the same room. So, when one wakes up crying in the middle of the night, so does the other one.

6. While F does not have a problem eating, she does not like siting in her chair while being fed.

 

So, sometimes, I have to tie her legs. :p

 

7. Yesterday, I discovered F's new skill.

 

AOBs

8. Resolutions schmelolutions - erm. Still the same as 2009's and 2008's and 2007's and 1997's.. which is to get my driver's license. But with no effort whatsoever on my part, I really wonder when this will ever be achieved. My younger sister (younger by a good 12 years)  who kinda dragged me to sign up at BBDC together with her sometime last year just got her license and has been driving my father's car (with my father beside her, of course). Is that motivation enough for me to get my fat arse down to BBDC? I hope.

9. For these 2 weeks, Huda has a relief teacher teaching her in school. Who's the relief teacher? My former student who's waiting for her A level results. Gasp. I feel old. She used to know me some 10 years ago as Miss N-.

 

10. Nerf gun - it's so cool! Go get yours today!

 

11. I want to thank China for lowering our cost of living somewhat. Every time I see cheap kids clothes, stationeries, household stuff etc, I'll thank China. But, of course, this does not mean I'll be buying food products from China. Still frightened after the melamine scandal which apparently is still in milk products so, choose your milk wisely.

All About H

I wrote almost all of this in the middle of November but didn't do anything about it til today. So if you are particular about the exact dates of the incidents, then, um, well, too bad.

 

H is an extremely interesting person. She is very, very creative when it comes to, umm, well, anything. Except the drawing kind. Let me share some of her stories here. Some I may have written about earlier so forgive me for sounding so typically like your mother when you were growing up - perpetually on repeat telecast.

 

1. Ever since she went off diapers, whenever we scolded her and put her in the naughty corner, she'd cry and wail and tell us that she needed to pee. So, we had to pull her out of the naughty corner and into the toilet.

A few weeks ago, I scolded her. For what, I can't recall. I held both her hands in front of me and stared at her and spoke in a very firm voice about what she had done wrong and how upset I was. Of course she used her tried-and-tested 'I need to pass urine.'

So I scolded her some more. Told her that she had better hold her pee in for the next 3 minutes when she'll be languishing in the naughty corner. 

Remember I was holding both her hands while scolding her?

She then said, "Huda nak korek hidung."  (I want to dig my nose.)

 

2. We don't allow her to say 'I don't friend you'. Two reasons. One, it is grammatically incorrect. Two, she needs to learn to work out her issues with her friends and not just use abandonment as a technique to resolve issues. Of course, we are very sure that she's still using this with her friends and we accept that we don't have complete control over her. (Sigh)

However, sometimes, when she's angry with us, she will mutter under her breath 'I don't friend you'. And what follows will be a string of nonsense words which sound suspiciously German/Italian/Greek/Thai/(insert random foreign language here).

I shudder at the thought of all the things she'll be muttering under her breath when she's in her teens.

 

 

3. A few months ago, she kept on waking up in the middle of the night and would be screaming for me to sleep with her. It will start off as a simple case of crying and when she's fully aware of her surroundings, she will start screaming for me. And she will CRY OUT, REALLY LOUDLY, at whatever time of the night/morning it is. And she will do it syllable by syllable. NAK MAK TI DOR KAN x 1 000 000. (Want Mak to sleep with me)

When she's done about a gajimillion of that and cannot get my response because I was hell-bent on the supernanny technique (ie, just ignore it), she will change her 'song'.

(By the way, she did all these while sitting on her bed because I, erm, moved my hand quickly and my hand would land on her with great force whenever she tried to get out of bed. Anyway, when this episode happened, after my, erm, hand movements, I did not take any chances and locked our bedroom door so she would not be able to creep into our bed when we were sleeping.)

Next was NAK SU SU. NAK MAK BU AT KAN SU SU. TA NAK AYAH BU AT KAN SU SU. (Want milk. Want Mak to make milk. Don't want Ayah to make the milk.) Multiply that by another gajimillion times.

Then it was, NAK KEN CING. TAK BO LEH TUNG GU. (Want to pee. Cannot wait.)

Immediately after she said this, she realised her mistake because she wears diapers to sleep. So, she added NAK KEN CING DA LAM TOI LET. (Want to pee in the toilet.) 

What followed was A DA LION. (There's a lion.)

(There were a few more but I can't remember what they were but they had TheHusband and I in stitches inside our room.)

After about close to 45 minutes of this nonsense, she grew tired and went back to sleep.

I am so grateful that my neighbours didn't call the police because of the noise.

 

 

4. She absolutely hates sleep and making her take her naps has been a problem since she was an infant of just a few months old.

Now, she's aware that she must sleep otherwise I'll become MonsterMak but that doesn't mean that she goes to sleep without a fight.

Most of the time, either TheHusband or I will lie down beside her for about ten minutes or so.

After we've read stories and recited prayers, we'll tell her to sleep. Her response will be, "Huda tak tahu tidur." (I don't know how to sleep)

Close your eyes, we'll tell her. And she'll say, "Huda tak boleh tutup mata." (I can't close my eyes.)

Once, I had almost fallen asleep beside her when I suddenly woke up because I heard voices (or rather, a voice). The little girl was sitting beside me, talking away, reenacting scenes from school. I scolded her and told her I don't want to hear her voice. I almost fell asleep again but when I woke up, she was sitting up again, her mouth was moving but not a single sound escaped and her hands were moving about very animatedly.

Now, the instruction is not go and sleep. It is, close your eyes (otherwise I'll shut it for you using scotch tape), your arms must remain very still and your mouth must be closed. Of course, just before this afternoon's nap time, her legs were high up in the air.

 

5. When it really matters, she refuses to say sorry.

Sometime in March/April, it was her friend's birthday in school. The boy had a Thomas the Toy Train cake and all the kids were crowding around the cake. The teacher gave very specific instructions to the kids not to touch the cake. Of course, they hear it as, "The first person to bury his/her face in the cake is a brilliant child."

One boy touched just a teeny eeny weeny part of the cake. He was forgiven. Our dear girl? Her entire arm came into contact with the side of the cake.

The teacher insisted that she said sorry to the boy, Ashraf.

What came out from her mouth? "Sorry, Thomas."

Another time (trust me, this is one of many) she did something to my sister and we insisted that she apologised by saying sorry. A fierce scolding session (from the father) and tearful cries (from the daughter) followed. She kept on saying in between her cries, "Huda tak boleh cakap sorry." (I cannot say sorry.)

 

6. Neither can she say please (until last week)

Last week, we went to Burger King and bought a cup of Milo with our burgers. We soon finished our burgers and the cup of Milo and left BK. When she realised that the Milo was gone, she wanted us to buy another cup.

But the queue was very long and we thought of getting it elsewhere or perhaps getting another drink altogether from somewhere with no queue. The little girl, however, insisted on The Milo and nothing else. We went to McDs to get it.

So we bought it. Simple. End of story, right? Wrong.

I asked her to say, "May I have some Milo, please?"

Then it began. "Huda tak boleh cakap please!" (I cannot say please)

I told her that she wasn't getting any Milo without the word please. Of course, she insisted on not saying please. All the way home, theHusband and I took sips and after each sip, we gushed dramatically about how wonderful the Milo tasted. All the way home, the little girl kept on saying that she couldn't say please.

By the time we reached our block, she started sucking her index finger and thumb and said that that was her Milo and it was very delicious. Between her cries, she offered her 'Milo' and when I told her that my Milo was more delicious, she cried even more and said that hers was a lot better.

No, she didn't have any Milo at all that night.

Miraculously, the next morning, it was please this, please that, please for every single thing.

 

7. You know the emergency button in the MRT? No, she didn't press it. Thank goodness!

We were in the carriage for the wheelchair-bound and the emergency button is quite low in such carriages.

Her finger was roaming dangerously close to the button and so I told her that the button was to be pressed in a real emergency. I then tried to explain what an emergency was.

I wanted to talk about people getting very bad asthma attacks. So, I said, sometimes people cough and they may turn blue in the face.

"Cough cough. Mak, Huda batuk." (Fake coughs. Mak, I'm coughing)

No, I said, it's for people who cannot breathe and it's so bad that the person's face turns blue.

Or, if a fight breaks out in the train, I added.

Immediately, she hit Farah's leg.

"Huda gaduh dengan Farah. Boleh picit?" (I fought with Farah. Can I press the button?)

Thankfully, the journey was a short one.

 

8. But of course, despite everything, we love her and she loves us and her sister.

One night/early morning last week, Farah was very fussy - thanks to a blocked nose. She kept on waking up in the middle of the night crying and as they now share a room, so did her sister.

Frustrated, I told Farah that I would put her in the playpen in the living room where she could cry as much as she wanted to. I would close the bedroom doors so that the rest of us who wanted to sleep could sleep.

Guess who jumped to her defence?

Huda immediately started crying and begged me not to put Farah outside.

 

 

PS: Apparently, 3-year-olds are inclined towards turning their lives into a soap opera so there is never a dull moment for parents of 3-year-olds.

 

 

 

 

So Kind!!

Yesterday, I went to the library and borrowed 3 books.

I've been going to the library very frequently, about 3-4 times a week. I'll borrow 2-3 books each time.

In the past I would know exactly what I want to read because my reading time and library visits are extremely limited. So, before I went to the library, I would have a list of books/authors that I want to read.

Now, with more free time in my hands (because I don't have to spend my nights doing lesson plans, marking blood-curdling compositions, writing work review etc), I don't need a list. I just pick and choose any book whose cover I fancy, read the first few paragraphs and if engaging enough, I'll borrow the book.

If the book turns out crappy after the first few chapters, I'll just skip the entire middle part and head straight towards the last few chapters (because I need to know how it ends).

So that's me digressing, as always.

Anyway, I borrowed 3 books from the library yesterday.

Then, I boarded the bus, picked up Huda, talked to her teacher (it was Parent-Teacher's Conference; that's another story), then took a cab back because it was going to rain and I didn't have an umbrella (why on earth am I justifying my cab ride to everyone; in any case, most of the time, my cab rides are never justifiable).

I went home, attended to the kids, cooked the vege dish for dinner, bathed the kids, fed the kids, played with the kids, welcomed TheHusband, had dinner, played some more with the kids, changed diapers, brushed the older kids' teeth, breastfed the little kid and then, it was ME-time.

I took my books from my bag and, horrors, there were only 2! Checked the receipt and I did borrow 3 books. Gaaaaaaah!

Just now, I checked my library account and am extremely relieved to see that there were only 2 books in my account. Which means that an extremely good and kind-hearted samaritan had returned one of my books which must have fallen out of my bag somewhere along the way yesterday.

Oh you kind, kind person who returned my book, I wish you all the goodness that life may bring. Thank you, oh nice person!

(My digressing is getting worse. I intended this to be a super short entry with only the first and last 3 paragraphs in it. This is what staying at home does to you, I suppose..)

9 + 44

I wrote this almost a month ago and hopefully I'll finish it today.

 

Farah & Huda

1. Farah. Farah is now 9 months old. She's a crawler and has begun to pull herself to a standing position. I don't think she's gonna start walking anytime soon because her sister was about 14/15 months when she started walking. I suppose she will start walking when she's about that age but then again, siblings can be very different.

She has also had her fall-off-the-bed-rite-of-passage. Boohooohoooooo.. I know that practically all children fall off beds at one time or another but I thought I could protect her from it. But, of course, I thought wrong.

It happened one evening when I was in the toilet and TheHusband was attending to Huda. Farah was supposed to be sleeping in her cot which was pushed against my bed. (She was sleeping in our room instead of her own room because she was sick and whiny and we didn't want Huda to wake up.)

She climbed out of her cot, crawled all over our bed and just when I peeked out of the toilet, she was at the edge of the bed, looking down, about to take one more step forward. I raced to her and of course, even though it was a distance of about 2-3 metres, I failed miserably to catch her in mid-fall. She landed on the floor. :( 

(Therefore, must exercise more and work on the sprint.)

2. Weight. Farah isnow about 6.5kg. Definitely petite but it's okay lah. I am coming to terms with the fact that my children are all in the featherweight category. They are pretty much like what TheHusband and I were decades ago when we were kids. Yes. TheHusband used to be a scrawny little kid. There *are* photos of him as a scrawny little kid. And I used to be thin too. Stick-thin. But, those are days which will never come back. I am now the poster girl for Michelin tyres.

3. Food. It is fun cooking for Farah. I like knowing that I'm giving her healthy food with absolutely no salt added. Someone asked me why I bothered because they would all be sodium junkies when they grow up. And that's exactly why I bother now. When I still have full control of their diet, let me give them the best and healthiest of food. At least, I make sure that they will not cause harm to their insides so early in their lives. And, hopefully, they will have a low tolerance for salt and additives as they grow up. (They will most likely be chocoholics like me.)

But feeding her is another story. While she is eating a lot more than Huda used to, she is still not an easy baby to feed. Sometimes, she enjoys making those sputtering buh buh noises (bilabial trills, if you are into phonetics) and she especially likes doing this during mealtimes so mealtime is a messy messy affair.

4.  TV. I still have control over their TV intake for now. The TV is hardly switched on when they are awake. When I first started my maternity leave, I was bored beyond belief so I did watch quite a bit of TV. Farah was sleeping most of the time then anyway. But, slowly I got back to the no-TV groove and hardly switched on the TV in the daytime. (And I guess that's also because of the ridiculous facebook games; the computer is switched on instead.)

5. Me & FB. Sidetrack a bit about myself and facebook games: I've got rid of Barn Buddy and Mafia Wars out of my system. Now I'm hooked on Cafe World and Scrabble. I think Scrabble is something I would play again and again and again but Cafe World is not something I'll play for long. Give it a few more weeks and I'll delete it from my facebook account. Really, facebook is a time-waster. :p

I know I'm hopelessly addicted to Scrabble because when I'm on the throne, picking up a call from Nature, I'll suddenly think of EIOPMNS. Then I'll shuffle the letters about in my head and I'll get words like POEMS, MOPES, MONIES etc. Of course, the target is to get a 7-letter word so I'll shuffle the letters in my head some more. I'll think of the ending -ISM. Then I shuffle the rest of the letters about and then I think of NEPOISM (no such word but if there's a T somewhere on the board, I can get NEPOTISM), NEOPISM (rubbish word), PEONISM (sounds like a nonsense word but I just checked against the scrabble dictionary and found that it exists). Such is my life now. :p

Back to Huda & Farah...

6. Huda's formal education. Huda is still in a childcare centre and will still be goin there next year although I'm still on unpaid leave then. I'm very pleased with the school she goes to. Perhaps my expectations are low or perhaps other people's expectations are too high but I'm happy with her school. One of my neighbours whose grandson goes to a $1000plus-a-month childcare centre talked about how everybody there spoke good English with no hor meh lah.

Well, my daughter barely speaks English herself so this is no issue to me. Hur hur. She does pick up crappy English from her friends like, 'I don't friend you' but that's why she has parents who know how to string a few words together in a grammatically coherent sentence. We correct the nonsense she picks up. Well, we try to lah. And when we fail, we'll tell her teacher so that she may find it in her to forgive us if our daughter were to use foul words in class. ;p

Talking about teachers - one of the main reasons I chose this childcare centre is because of the teachers. I hate to use the word 'passion' because it's been terribly misused when it comes to teaching but you can tell that the teachers and principal there are passionate about what they are doing. They should be the poster girls (err, women) for early childhood education.

I've actually digressed quite far from what I wanted to say. Initially, when I started going on my leave, I wanted to send Huda to school only 4 times a week and on Fridays we'll do something together. A trip to the Science Centre, Botanical Gardens etc. That has yet to happen because other than taking both girls around Woodlands, I can't imagine going out on my own with the both of them to the far ends of Singapore. What I fear most is, what do I do should I need to go to the toilet?

7. What my neighbour said. Two weeks ago, I bumped into the neighbour who lives one floor below me.

I was with Farah and she said that she hardly hears Farah's voice. I thought she was deaf because my neighbour 2 doors away often hears Farah's cries. Then she added, "But I hear you very stress with your older girl."

Ah.

She's not deaf. She so politely phrased her words, this woman. What she meant to say was, I always hear you screaming like a wild banshee at your older girl after which I hear her cry so miserably.

There are times when my patience really runs thin with my Huda. She's still afflicted by the Terrible Twos (doesn't matter that she turned 3 more than half a year ago - I heard this Terrible Twos stage only goes away when they are 25 years old).

Being Miss Contrarian, she tries to do everything differently. If I tell her to put my phone back where she found it, she will then put my phone in 17 different places before reluctantly returning the phone back where she found it. Of course, by then, I would be a mad raving lunatic. 

Her bath time also gives rise to the loony in me. I'll tell her not to run in the bathroom and she'll be hopping and jumping all over the slippery floor. When I mop the floor and tell her to stay in one room, I'll soon find her in the kitchen or somewhere else.

And the result is - my neighbour hearing that I "very stress with my older girl". *insert nervous laughter*

As a result of that chance meeting, I did a bit of reflection and I might have been a little hysterical with Huda at times *insert more nervous laughter here*. And so, I've decided to try my mighty best to rein it in. I hope for the past two weeks, my neighbour hasn't noticed my stress levels. I've been trying to not raise my voice and to take short breaks should I notice that I'm going bonkers. (Short break = going to the toilet to sit on the throne and breathe deeply - and after breathing in the foul air in there, I'll start scrubbing the toilet from top to bottom.) 

8. Farah's health. Just now, we had a follow-up appointment at KK for Farah. After she recovered from her bout of bronchialitis in the first week of Hari Raya, she got another round of cough and phlegm and mucus just 3 weeks later. It's still going on now. Obviously, I do not like that she's falling ill so frequently. But, what medication can be given to a child who's only 9 month old?

The doctor suspected that she is allergic to something, most likely common allergens like dust mites and pollens. So, she's given a dose of medicine. The side effect? Possible increased appetite! Hooray! She's gonna be cured (hopefully) and she'll become a chubby baby in the process. Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!

9. Conclusion and AOBs. Yesterday I did ten little sit-ups and today, my stomach is still screaming out in agony. I am getting sleepy. I know this entry feels disjointed but that's what happens when you write one entry over a period of a month. I shall just post this one, warts and all, so thank you so much if you have actually reached this final full stop. :)

S Education

From one of her friends (or so Huda claims), she has learnt this vile Malay word for vagina - p/e/p/e/k. It sounds so vulgar that I can't even say it out loud. When she first picked up this word, she would just say it out of the blue. She would be playing with utensils in the kitchen, humming to herself and suddenly she'd say it. Initially, I tried to distract her hoping that she would forget the word soon enough. Then the word appears more and more frequently and I simply told her not to say it again and that it means vagina. Now, vagina is a word I use because it sounds a lot less crass.

(Sidetrack some more: Sex education begins with the correct naming of body parts. So, we tell her (in English - because I can't do this in Malay with all the crass-sounding words for the male and female privates) that boys have penis and girls have vagina. And of course, we also told her that no one should see or touch hers and neither should she go round looking and touching other people's.)

So, one day, she was sitting down, and talking to herself and suddenly she said p*p*k. See? I can't even write the word down the second time because it does sound very crass, doesn't it? Sigh. I had to tell her off. I said in my no-nonsense tone which is essentially nagging: 'Why did you say that word? Didn't I tell you what that word means? What does it mean? Right. It means vagina. Why must you say vagina? Do you see vaginas flying around?"

And at this point, I simply could not keep a straight face anymore. But I can't laugh while scolding, can I?

So I stopped and hid behind a laptop and laughed.

How do other parents do this?

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Normally, my blog posts are for everyone but because of some words used here, I'm afraid that unsavoury characters might do a google for such words and find those words here and somehow associate my blog and pictures in my blog with such vile stuff. I know I'm being overly cautious bordering on paranoia but the world is a scary place and I'm not taking any chances. By the way, this was supposed to appear in a super-long (read: rambling) blog entry that I'm still in the middle of but because of my strict censorship rules, this short prose found itself here, all by its lonely self.