Yearly Archives

2012

stuff best described as not safe for parents

To hover or not to hover

I recently had a conversation with the husband about the hover hand phenomenon. If you haven’t heard about it before, go read about it here. Go on, I’ll wait.

So the big question is of course, is it more appropriate to hover or not to hover? Do you want to run the risk of being caught in a suggestive photograph by not hovering or try to absolve yourself from all responsibility but look like an idiot by pulling a hover hand move?

Ok, first of all, WRONG QUESTION.

Now, I consider myself a fairly progressive specimen of the female species and I don’t really have a problem seeing the husband in a photo with his hands on the shoulder of another girl. Oh wait, while we’re here, I should probably make it clear that the safe zone to be touching a woman who is not your wife is limited to the shoulder. Everything else below the shoulders and you’re in very dangerous territory.

So if hovering (or non-hovering) is not really the problem, what is?

1. Hotness. 

If you refer to the above chart, you’ll realize that the hotness scale works like an exponential curve. Feel free to rest your arm on any woman who looks like Tilda Swinton, or better yet, Margaret Thatcher. But if you so much as lay a pinkie on a Megan Fox equivalent, I’d recommend that you start digging your own grave on the way home.

2. Interest. 

The interest scale is a lot more straightforward. The level of interest you display is directly proportionate to how likely you are to be stabbed. Basically, more interest = more stabbing.

If you ever find yourself in a situation where you absolutely have to take a photo with a hot girl, at least try not to look like you’re enjoying it so much. We can smell your fear. I know it’s tough to look nonchalant when you’re in the vicinity of hotness, so if it helps, pretend like you’re casually standing next to a lamp post. Play it cool and then buy a tub of ice-cream and some flowers on your way home just in case.

What do you say, ladies? Would you want your guy to hover or not hover?

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Getting Floored No More

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Interior design (or any kind of design, for that matter) is not one of our strengths, so when we bought our first home 5 years ago, we had no idea what to do with all that space or how to make it homely. Well ok, we did have some ideas but a lot of those ideas weren’t very practical so after all the renovation work was done, we realized that we had made some very amateur mistakes.

Like having a wooden kitchen table top. I like the look of a wooden finish but apparently it’s not very durable when it comes into contact with water, which happens all the time because it’s right next to the sink. Now I have to wipe up every drop of water from the counter top whenever it gets wet and that is a real pain.

And you know what else is a bad idea? Smooth bathroom tiles. When we went tile shopping, we wanted black tiles to create a mysterious, romantic hotel sort of feel.

It didn’t occur to us what a bad idea smooth toilet tiles is until we finished taking our inaugural shower in the new bathroom, stepped out onto the wet, smooth tiles and did a slow-motion naked-arm-flailing-try-not-to-fall routine. Over the years, we’ve had to do the same routine (some successful, others not so much) after every shower. On the bright side, we’ve developed a fantastic sense of balance.

When 3M offered to send over some anti-slip floor stickers, we figured it would be nice not to have to face the imminent threat of falling on our bare bottoms multiple times a day.

These 13cm x 13cm stickers come in a pack of 4 and there are a bunch of colorful kid-friendly designs to choose from. The application process was easy enough – just peel and stick on a clean, dry surface. It’s also been extremely durable and a breeze to clean. I just scrub over the stickers with my brush whenever I wash the bathroom and I haven’t had to deal with frayed edges or a loss of adhesion.

The best part is that they do the job they’re required to quite effectively, which is to prevent slips and falls. I can step out confidently after my shower and focus on perfecting my hair-flick like one of those shampoo commercials instead of having to worry about doing an unglamorous backflip.

The stickers can also be used in the kitchen, wash areas or common toilets – basically anywhere that gets wet and slippery.

Because we all know that not falling is always good.

This is a sponsored conversation written by me on behalf of 3M. All opinions and text are my own.

picture perfect

The Cure

I can’t think of a better cure to a crummy week than a weekend of food, fun and fantastic company. It was exactly what the doctor ordered, and by doctor, I really mean me.

Thankfully, Truett was cleared from his HFMD and out of quarantine just in time for all the activities we had lined up over the Easter weekend.

To kick things off, we were invited to Universal Studios for a breakfast with the stars as part of the Resorts World VIP experience.

A hearty classic American breakfast was prepared at Mel’s Diner and we mingled with characters like Woody Woodpecker and Betty Boop. Because she’s never been exposed to the Universal characters, Kirsten didn’t know who they were but she was excited to take photos with the “funny bird” and the “pretty auntie” (exact words). I don’t think Betty was pleased to be called auntie, but perhaps it’s some consolation that she’s a pretty one at least.

After breakfast, we were given passes to tour the rest of the park, which seemed to cheer Truett up considerably.

Then yesterday, the folks from Crowne Plaza Hotel hosted us for an Easter Brunch event at Azur. As part of their Easter theme, they came up with several egg-inspired creations to egg up (sorry, bad pun) their usual International buffet spread.

On top of a wonderful brunch, they prepared a good old-fashioned Easter Egg Hunt for the kids while we cheered them on and took pictures.

I didn’t think the weekend could get any better but it did because the kids fell asleep at 7.30pm and we rounded off the night watching Manchester United ease into a comfortable win over QPR. Then to the husband’s delight, I became an Arsenal fan for 2 hours. We had so much fun watching Mancini’s jugular vein throb visibly as the vastly inferior Manchester team imploded at the Emirates.

All in all, a brilliant end to the week.

the breast things in life are free

Gotta Keep ‘Em Separated

The moment we found out that Tru has HFMD, I knew it would be quite a task to keep the kids separated while being cooped up in the same house all day.

But faced with the prospect of a second kid doing the screaming mouth-grabbing thing, I was determined to at least try to keep Kirsten away from the blasted virus.

I had an elaborate plan to keep them engaged in different activities throughout the day. Their naps were in different rooms and they had separate mealtimes at different corners of the kitchen. I had to give them specific orders not to so much as look at each other’s food. I was even hardcore enough to go around with a disinfectant to wipe down every surface Truett touched. It was exhausting but I managed to keep them apart till about 5pm on the first day.

Then it happened. I was prepping dinner when Tru had another bout of shrieking and I went back to the room to discover Kirsten patting his head, then moving into give him a giant kiss to help him feel better.

I ran in and screamed “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO DON’T KISS!!!” but it was too late. She grabbed his face and planted a nice, juicy one on his tear-stained cheeks.

On retrospect, it was really sweet but all I could think of was how many germs were exchanged in that one tender moment. Well, A LOT.

In other news, it’s Good Friday tomorrow and even though we’re all a little germy, we’ve got lots of reasons to smile. Have a good one, you guys!

not feeling so supermom

Infected. Again.

Top of the morning to you. I’m up early writing this because the kids are going to wake up in a bit and it’s going to be a mad house around here the rest of the day.

Truett is down with hand, foot and mouth disease (again!), which means that I’ll have 2 irritable, bored, non-schooling, hungry, whiny kids on my hands the next couple of days. Kirsten is technically not exhibiting symptoms of HFMD but given her proximity to the virus, there’s a pretty good chance she’s already infected so I’m keeping her away from school just in case.

The last time they got the virus, they didn’t eat for 3 days straight and pretty much spent those days grabbing their mouths and shrieking.

Totally understandable though because I would have done the same if I had a chain of 25 ulcers in my mouth. Ok, bollocks, just thinking about that makes my hair stand.

Good thing I bought a tub of ice-cream (for the kids) and stocked up on bubble tea (for me) last night. Looks like we’re going to need it.

Right then, have a terrific Wednesday and here’s hoping we get through the rest of the week unscathed.

I’m too tired to be funny or witty so here’s a photo of the kids playing doctor. Strangely enough, nobody finds that game fun when they are actually ill.

motherhood, stuff best described as not safe for parents, unqualified parenting tips

Fly me to the moon

Remember when you were a kid and you felt like you could be anything you wanted? Growing up, I wanted to be a zookeeper, a Disneyland mascot, an emperor, a writer and a judge at different points of my life.

My dad used to tell me that I could do anything I dreamed of doing, and it didn’t matter what I did because if I was passionate about it, the money would follow. Well, one time he did tell me to be an investment banker or a lawyer because those guys earned truckloads of money. I guess it was his way of giving me viable career options after he heard about my mascot gig. But for the most part, he told me to follow my heart, wherever that took me.

Even though I probably wouldn’t have done half the things on my list given the chance, it was nice to know that I *could* have done it.

Now as a parent, I understand how tough it is to offer that kind of unconditional support, especially when we think that we know best for our kids. Our idea of success is very much tied to how much they earn or how famous they get, but mostly the money part. As far as I can help it, I don’t want them to have to spend the better part of their working life struggling to make ends meet. Or stuck in a job they thought was cool at 14, but didn’t turn out quite so cool at 34. To balance the whole heart-following with valuable practical advice without sounding like the kind of annoying pessimistic parent who’s too jaded to believe in dreams.

Just last week, Tru informed me that he was going to be an astronaut when he grew up.

At first, in my head, I was all like “Isn’t that so 1990? Do kids still dream of going to the moon these days? Now they want to wear jeans and invent Facebook and be a billionaire at 25. And astronaut? I mean, Tom Hanks seemed like he was having a pretty rough time in Apollo 13.”

But then his eyes lit up and he followed it up by telling me about how he was going to fly a spaceship to the moon and do a somersault when he got there. Which does sound pretty cool when he put it that way.

So instead of telling him about how dangerous astronaut-ing is, or how tough it was to get into the NASA program, or how he was going to miss his wife and kids (if he has them), or how there’s never even been one Singaporean astronaut probably because of all of the above reasons, I gave him a hi-5 and told him that it would be awesome. And also to bring back a moon-rock as a souvenir.

Did I say it just to make my kid happy? Well, yes and no. On some level, I think anything they’re passionate about deserves my support, even when I don’t necessarily agree. And if he eventually becomes an astronaut, or the guy who designs the spaceship, or the guy who pumps fuel into the spaceship, I think I’d still be awfully proud.

lists you should paste on your fridge, stuff best described as not safe for parents, unqualified parenting tips

World’s Deadliest Creatures

Ok so the kids are sweet and filled with sparkly rainbow confetti kind of awesome but if I’m honest with myself, there are times where I just want to gag them and stuff them in my closet for 20 minutes.

You’d think that in the grand scheme of things, like compared to a grizzly bear attack or a shark bite, dealing with a toddler’s tantrum is um, child’s play.

But then you realize that unlike having a cobra death-match where your end is swift and decisive, dealing with a baby requires you to listen to that annoying sing-song nasally whine that can go on and on and on and on and on some more until the thought of ripping off your own arm and feeding it to wolves is monumentally less painful.

With that in mind, I present to you my list of the world’s deadliest creatures.