Yearly Archives

2009

Comic Relief, kids inc

Adventures of the Hunky Pool Boy

Some may say that comics aren’t legitimate literary forms, but go ask Neil Gaiman, the god of graphic novels (it’s just a fancy name for comics) and he will probably tell you that you’re an illiterate fool. 50 years from now, high school students will be dissecting the genius of graphic novels as part of their pursuit of literature, alongside Shakespeare and Harper Lee.

For me, I’m a fan of all forms of literature. I enjoy Harry Potter as much as Jane Eyre (btw, John Grisham and Jeffrey Archer novels are my guilty pleasure). When I stumbled upon the Sandman series by Gaiman, I was absolutely riveted. Comics are an art form, mixing visuals and prose to form a complex tapestry in which the narrative is masterfully woven.

Which is why I’ve decided to try my hand at comic creation. It’s probably too short to be a graphic novel, so maybe I’ll just start off with a graphic novella. Enjoy.

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kids inc

Picture Perfect

If there’s one thing I should have done more as a mother, it’s to take more pictures of Tru. Most mothers have a gazillion pictures of their tots and I have a grand total of about a hundred since he was born (Most of them not even taken by me). I bet strangers have more pictures of my kid than I do. That’s the thing though. We’re totally not trigger-happy people.

During Tru’s delivery, we didn’t even bring a camera to capture the pivotal moment. I was lying on the operating table with my stomach flapping open, witnessing the following conversation take place.

Gynae: Ok, where’s your camera? You can standby to take pictures of the baby.

Husband: Er, we didn’t bring one.

Gynae (incredulous): Camera phone? How are you going to take pictures?

Husband: Actually, our phones have no cameras.

*Awkward silence*

From time to time, I browse through some of Tru’s old photos (yes, all 100 of them) just to look back at how tiny and helpless he was back then. Here’s a few.

tru-11

tru-21

tru-31

tru-41

tru-51

tru-61

Every time I look at how small he was back then, and it makes me go all mushy inside. That’s it, my middle-of-the-year-resolution is to TAKE MORE PICTURES OF MY KIDS.

kids inc

Truett’s top 5 TV shows

The topic on whether TV is good for kids has been debated to death. So I shan’t keep flogging the dead horse. My philosophy is that there are plenty of good programs out there and when consumed in moderation, there’s probably not much harm.

What’s more, I LOVE TV. It’s one of the best discoveries of all time, right next to sliced bread.

My son has come up with a list of top 5 TV programs on Playhouse Disney.
(I’m not sure if I agree with all of them though)

5. Higglytown Heroes.

Higglytown Heroes

First of all, what’s up with the giant storage pouches in their stomachs. Believe it or not, they can hop inside each other’s pouches and hide, which is so wrong on so many levels. And why are they mutated pudgy, legless beings? Most annoyingly, they keep coming up with retarded suggestions, plus they take advice from an ugly talking cat. Go figure.

4. Thomas and Friends.

Thomas and Friends

The husband claims that the trains are possessed. They are supposed to be youngish trains but it’s so disconcerting that they’ve got overly-large eyeballs that roll around and deep-baritone-grandfather voices. And the accent. The only people who speak like that are old farts drinking in the taverns of Manchester.

3. Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.

Mickey Mouse Clubhouse

There’s Mickey Mouse and his exclusive Clubhouse of which JT, Britney and Christina are members. The social status alone is a big enough draw for any kid.

2. Pocoyo.

Pocoyo

This is Tru’s alter ego. The only problem is that he wears the same clothes ALL THE TIME and he’s got a duck, an elephant, a dog, a sleepy bird and a mysterious, old  narrator for friends. Other than that, he’s hands down the cutest 4-year-old on television.

1. Bunnytown.

Bunnytown

Definitely the best cartoon on Playhouse Disney. They’ve got all kinds of awesome music, ranging from hip hop, rock, rap, gospel and jazz. It’s also got a very witty script and lots of colorful bunnies. Tru’s all-time favorite segment is the Bunnytown Hop, a bunny-concert where all the bunnies go all rock and roll. Good stuff.

i embarrass myself sometimes, stuff best described as not safe for parents

Technology, the bane of my life

I have a love-hate relationship with technology. I love it because it has made my life a lot easier as a mom (I can’t imagine how mothers used to survive without the assistance of modern technology). But I hate it when it fails me.

I’d like to think otherwise, but on the scale of technology idiots, I’m probably way ahead of the pack. I’m bright enough to recognize the giant (usually red) on/off buttons to work most devices, but when it comes to customizing complicated settings and troubleshooting for problems, it will usually involve some hair grabbing and guttural howls.

There’s nothing more frustrating than having some technological device fail you in the middle of something important like say, preparing a meal. Cooking a decent meal for Tru is tough enough, (I’ll save my culinary exploits for another time) and it is too much to ask for all my kitchen appliances to cooperate?

As usual, the husband and I were puttering around in the kitchen trying to whip up a pot of nutritious porridge for Tru yesterday (it’s a two-men operation) when my blender decided to commit kamikaze midstream. Halfway through the carrots, it let out a final screech and died. It then decided that it could only dice tiny pieces of food one at a time, which is more painful than having to chop it by hand (at least my hands won’t go on strike).

It was just terribly frustrating, to the extent that I considered flinging it against the wall and letting it go out in a blaze of glory.

Die, you pathetic excuse for a blender.

Good thing there’s Superdad to the rescue. After struggling with the accursed appliance for a few minutes, it suddenly resurrected from the dead and sputtered to life. And that’s how I decided to let it continue its miserable existence. But I assure you, it will not be so fortunate the next time around.

pregnancy

Fat Girl Slim

Over dinner with some former colleagues (all ridiculously thin) who came to visit last week, I was made painfully aware of the fact that I’m no longer in the league of svelte, sultry young things anymore. The operative words being no longer, because I sometimes still reminisce the days when I was a size 6.

We live in a world where thin people have it easy. Designers create couture with a size 4 in mind, and it just doesn’t look the same when transposed onto a XXXL. You comb through the racks to find a nice top, but once you put it on, it will look decent at best.

Think about it. The seats in public transportation are meant to comfortably fit a thin person. Ever tried sitting next to an obese dude on the subway? You get really acquainted with the extra folds of his bottom as it presses up against yours. Even elevators are biased against corpulent individuals. The sign may say it fits 10 persons but if you look at the maximum weight allowed, it’s 500 kg. Do the math.

I never used to think twice about eating a chocolate fudge brownie with extra vanilla ice-cream, and still manage to pull off wearing a bikini right after. To be sure, I was never skinny, but at least I had some semblance of abdominal muscles and there was ample space between my thighs when I walked (it’s called the thigh test – as long as it doesn’t give you abrasions, you’re fine).

But with 2 consecutive pregnancies, I have since bade a tearful farewell to the thin(ner) version of me. So the colleagues (there’s a reason why they are FORMER colleagues) were having a very stimulating conversation on a new and highly effective slimming product and they managed to come to the conclusion that even that would not work for a case a severe as mine. Thanks, Bhav, good going.

But I’ll postulate that Slimspa can kiss my size 12 bottom because BIG IS BEAUTIFUL. It certainly took a while to get used to lugging an extra 30 kg around and I still get breathless after some brisk walking. But look on the bright side, it’ll give me a chance to form a special bond with my neighbors on the train.

The way I see it, I won’t be a fat chick forever and I’ll get back my figure soon enough. The abs may take a while to make a comeback, but I’m aiming to fit into my old jeans by Christmas. From now till then, I can either feel miserable or take a deep breath, suck in the stomach and enjoy the benefits of being big.

milestones & musings

I’m a big boy now

It was a momentous weekend for my baby boy, who’s made the transition to becoming a big boy. I feel like one of those cheesy parents who make cliched comments like “Aw, my baby boy’s all grown up”. But cheesiness comes with the territory of parenthood because these cliches first start out as truisms until 2 billion parents start saying the same thing.

When you’re watching your kid everyday, it’s hard to notice that they’re getting bigger, taller and smarter. And bit by bit, they start learning to assert their own independence. But it happens so gradually that it takes moments where you look back and wonder how they managed to grow up so fast.

Tru is officially a big kid now. Over the weekend, we just got him a toddler car seat (the forward facing type instead of the infant ones) and shifted him to his new nursery so he’s all grown up and independent. The husband had to clean out the guest room and do it up all nice and cosy with colorful mats and a whole bunch of toys. I was prepared for some separation anxiety and resistance on his part, but he seems to be loving his new digs.

Mama, on the other hand is struggling to cope with the new sleeping arrangement, so much so that I’ve been sleeping with the baby monitor attached to my ear. I was really dreading the shift but it was a matter of time before we had to make way for for the new baby in July. We figured it would be too traumatic for him to have to cope with the shift and a new baby sister all at the same time, in case he felt like he was kicked out of the room.

But now that I’ve adjusted to having back our room (although it will be short-lived), it totally rocks.

1. No more bathing in the common toilet.

2. No more brushing my teeth in pitch darkness.

3. No more whispering in the bedroom.

4. No more tiptoeing around.

5. Bring back the sexytime!

milestones & musings, seriously somewhat serious

Sometimes…you fly

There’s a strip in Neil Gaiman’s Fables and Reflections which has stayed with me for the longest time. In a dream, I’m standing at the edge of a precipice and there’s no way down but to jump. But I’m terrified of heights and I’m pretty sure I’ll plunge to my death.

Morpheus: If you do not climb you will not fall. This is true. But is it that bad to fail, that hard to fall? Sometimes you wake, and sometimes, yes, you die. But there is a third alternative.

Sometimes you wake up.

Sometimes the fall kills you.

And sometimes, when you fall, you fly.

Motherhood is like that. In most ways, I’m resistant to change. I like what’s familiar and safe. My life was good before, when everything was planned out and neat and I’ve got it all figured out in my head. The job, the vacations, the parties, the glamour.

Then the kids arrive, and everything changes. I suppose it’s possible to make the kid fit into your life and keep the inconveniences to a minimum. Some folks get a nanny or babysitter to take care of all the baby’s needs while they galavant all night. Which is not a bad thing, since you get the best of both worlds.

But my mantra for motherhood (for life, as a matter of fact) is somewhat different. In the words of Robert Frost,

Two roads diverged in a wood
And I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference

After 10 months of countless sleepless nights, missed parties, forgone vacations, I can still safely say that it’s been the best time of my life. I’ve never been happier. Sure, there’s been bad days when I wish life was a little less tough. On retrospect, I did take a peek and wander down the path taken by many, but I’m glad I turned back and chose the other one instead.

Nothing could trump the fact that I’m the first person Tru sees when he wakes up, and the last person to kiss him goodnight before he goes to bed. That I’m there hold him when he’s got a bad day and kiss the boo-boos away. To witness all the first milestones and have him grow up knowing that Mommy’s going to be there no matter what.

So yeah, sometimes you fall. But sometimes you take off on the most awesome journey of your life.