Yearly Archives

2012

swimmingly well

Not so scary now

January 16, 2012

Lovely morning to start the week with. I hope you managed to get a bit of rest over the weekend and if not, there’s always the Lunar New Year break to look forward to this week.

5 days till the next long weekend, that ain’t so bad.

I spent my Sunday reading Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book by the pool while the husband brought the kids for a swim. In my books, that makes for a splendid Sunday afternoon. I first attempted to read the novel in November of 2008, 5 months after Truett was born. As big a Gaiman fan as I was, I couldn’t get through the first chapter because I got too scared.

When I got to the part where the man Jack was hunting for the baby in the graveyard, I completely panicked. I mean, there I was, 5 months in as a new mom, with my maternal instincts raging out of control and reading about a baby trying to escape from a big scary man with a sharp blade, the same man who had already finished off the rest of his family.

I closed the book in a hurry, stuffed it at the bottom of my book drawer and forced myself to think happy thoughts instead.

Not that it was very effective because that same night, I dreamt that an evil pizza delivery guy was trying to take Tru away from me and when I tried to scream for help, not a sound came out from my mouth no matter how hard I tried. It was the longest silent dream scream I had to make and I woke up feeling more terrified than I had ever been in my life. Till this day, I don’t order pizza. True story.

3 years later, I decided it was time to read the book. The kids were bigger and my maternal instincts were under control. More or less.

So I did and it was thoroughly enjoyable.

I had to do it in broad daylight surrounded by lots of people and I kept looking up every few minutes to check in on the kids even though I knew they were safe with the husband but the important thing is that I finished it. Maybe next week, I’ll do something even crazier and order pizza for dinner. Look fear in the eye and all that.

In other news, I haven’t done Hipstamatic Happiness in a while, so here’s one to kick off the new week.

Happy Monday!

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seriously somewhat serious, stuff best described as not safe for parents, the gripes of wrath, unqualified parenting tips

No clothes, no shame

January 12, 2012

I can’t say if it’s an Asian thing or a generational thing, but there are these adults who tell kids who undress that they’re “shame shame”.

It infuriates me.

I was at the library with the kids a while back and there was a mom who was reading to her kid. From what I could gather while sitting across the room, it was about a kid who was learning to take a shower. While reading, she would pause and comment on the illustrations. So she got to this portion where the kid got undressed and she pointed at the photo to her child and said, “so shame shame right?”. Her 3-year-old responded with a giggle but after a stern look from his mom, became decidedly subdued and said, “the boy never wear clothes, so shame shame.”

Ok, first of all, where I come from, people get naked when they have a shower. There’s nothing shame shame about it.

And second of all, even though I haven’t actually read the book, I think that’s not really the point the author was trying to make.

The lady was reading loud enough for my kids to hear but since they didn’t really seem to hear it, I decided to leave it alone. Besides, I try not to comment on other parents’ teaching methods because I know how sensitive it is.

Then a couple of days ago, I was showering Kirsten when she turned to me and said, “See, I shame shame.” I was taken aback for a while so I asked her where she learnt it from and she said her teacher in school told her about it.

“Sweetie, listen to me, you’re not shame shame ok. You’re beautiful. If teacher ever tells you that you are shame shame again, you say “I’m beautiful” and then tell mommy when you get home.”

“But teacher said if I never wear clothes, I’m shame shame,” she said.

“That’s not true baby. Remember mommy told you that you’re not allowed to show your vagina to other people? It’s because it’s special and you’re supposed to keep it secret. But you’re not shame shame and if you have to bathe, it’s fine to not wear clothes ok.”

It was hard explaining this to a 2.5-year-old and I was mad at the teacher for making it worse.

Ok seriously, this whole shame shame thing has got to stop. I know why adults do it – to discourage kids from running around stark naked in public but there has got to be a better way to do it than shaming a child. They’re going to have to deal with feelings of inferiority and self-doubt and shame soon enough, they don’t need to feel ashamed about their bodies when they’re 2.

Besides, if there’s anything I’ve learnt from parenting toddlers, it’s that they’re compulsive little people. It’s like they can’t help themselves. If they want to get naked, THEY WILL GET NAKED. We try to contain it and scramble to make them put their clothes back on but they will do it until they’re old enough to control their impulses. And they’re not doing it to be bad or intentionally flashing their penises at you to make you uncomfortable. They’re just compulsive and all we need to do is give them a little time to learn that their private parts should be kept private.

But you know what really gets me? When teachers or adults in positions of power do it, the kids under their care will think that it’s ok to “shame shame” their peers. The kids who are waiting for their turn to shower will see the naked kids and think it’s funny to point and say “eee, shame shame”. And maybe even laugh.

I’m all for being fully clothed in public. I mean, I do it all the time. But there are situations in life which requires us to get naked and showering is one of them. My kids don’t need to feel ashamed when they undress to bathe. And so what if they do a naked streak around the house right after their shower? I doubt they’re going to be doing it when they’re 14, so if this is the way they need to express themselves right now, I’m ok with that.

So now every time I shower the kids, I make it a point to tell them that they’re beautiful the way the are.

Today, when Kirsten got into the shower, she said, “I’m not shame shame, right? I’m beautiful!”

Damn right you are, princess.

photo credit: Lynn Davis

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Saving Space

January 10, 2012

Advertorial

For someone who is as allergic to cleaning the house as I am, decluttering is strangely therapeutic for me. It’s a simple theory really, because the less stuff I own, the less stuff I have to end up cleaning. Over the years, I’ve adopted a very brutal approach to dealing with clutter – which is when in doubt, just chuck.

The husband says I have a heart of stone because I don’t hesitate to throw out boxes of handwritten cards and cute trinkets but I’m just un-sentimental that way.

Only problem is that there will be these items that are 50-50. You know the sort. The ones you think you will need to use at some point (just not now) but takes too much space to store. Chances are, I’ll keep it for years and not use it. Then one day, I’ll decide to throw it out only to find that I finally have use for it.

Recently, I was introduced to a genius new way of dealing with this sort of items. Space Saver Vacuum Bags from Mummy Cents. They’re essentially Ziploc bags (with double Ziploc closure for more security) with a one-way valve that prevents air from reentering the bag after deflating. Once all the excess air is removed, it saves up to 75% of the space. The bags are also reusable, which makes it great for the environment and your pocket.

The bags come in 5 sizes ranging from S to XXL. This largest one was big enough to keep all their stuffed toys and then some.

Kirsten is still in her photo-taking phase so she had to get in the shot.

After extracting all the air, I was left with this. Poor Tweety looks like she’s being asphyxiated, which I suppose, only makes it seem so much more effective. The great thing is that the plushies (and other stuff) will retain their shape once the air is let back in so you won’t end up with deformed toys that will make your kids have a meltdown.

I tried it on a bunch of other stuff like cot bumpers, curtains and baby clothes and they all worked like a charm.

These also work great for travel packing as it comes with a handy manual air extractor to bring along while traveling. I usually end up having to sit on my suitcase to fit in all the items but with these space saver bags, it’ll be a breeze to squeeze everything in.

Did I already say it was therapeutic? I’m having so much fun sucking out air that I’mma get me more of these magic bags. It’s like squishing bubble wrap, except more productive.

Mummy Cents will be giving away a $50 voucher (to be spent on any item in the shop) to 2 readers, so head over to the Facebook page to join!

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

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how i pretend to be a cool mum, i embarrass myself sometimes

How NOT to work from home

January 9, 2012

I really enjoy working from home. It’s very liberating. There’s no one breathing down my neck to monitor my productivity. There’s no one to judge me when I have crazy hair. There’s no one to give me the stink eye when I’m late or write me passive aggressive emails explaining why “jeans is not an appropriate dress code for work”. And there’s no one to tell me I can’t take a nap when I damn well feel like taking one.

I get judged on one thing alone – which is the quality of work that I deliver. Nobody cares how I do it as long as it’s done.

But I’ve come to realize that this sort of arrangement only works with folks who are self-motivated and organized and responsible and non-procrastinating. All the qualities I don’t seem to possess.

Instead, here’s how my typical day goes down.

Every morning, I prep the kids for school, pack their bags, drop them off and send the husband to work.

Then I get back and turn on my laptop to make a list of all the things I’m supposed to do for the day.

Great, list completed – this level of productivity deserves a cup of coffee. So I take my time to pull a beautiful shot of nespresso and froth the milk to perfection.

Wait, a Facebook alert. Must. Resist.

Ok, since I’m enjoying my coffee anyway, I might as well browse Facebook for 15 minutes.

Time check, where did the last hour go? And how did I end up with 13 opened tabs on my browser? Just let me finish watching this baby panda youtube video and then I’ll get to work.

10.52 am. I should probably start with the easy emails frist.

  • “68% off authentic Italian cuisine” – 68%? Blistering barnacles, buy now!
  • “Boost Your Stiffness” – Reply “Dear Maribel, my stiffness does not need boosting, stop sending me spam. Also, I’m not David.”
  • “ASOS Sale Now up to 70% off” – I’m going to be disciplined here but just in case, *bookmark for later browsing.

Clear a bunch of work emails. Look at how prolific I am today. Hi-5 self.

12.30 pm. Time to pick up the kids.

Bring the kids home, put them to bed, fix my lunch, read a couple of blogs and squeeze in a second cup of coffee before the kids wake up.

Finally get down to writing. Struggle to write a paragraph then realize I haven’t showered the whole day. Go take a shower to freshen up and clear my head.

Reread previously written paragraph – hate it. DELETE.

Maybe I should blog instead. Stare at blank screen while grabbing my face for 5 minutes. My brain seems to be broken. Screw this, I’m going to watch Alicia Florrick kick ass at her job for motivation.

“Mommy, can we go to the playground?” Why of course, sweetheart.

Come back, fix dinner, play with toys, feed the kids dinner, read stories and put them to bed before getting back to more empty screen staring. Decide to finish the work tomorrow instead.

But of course the same thing happens tomorrow and the tomorrow after, until my deadline approaches and I realize that I’m suddenly able to finish in 24 hours what I couldn’t in a week. Apparently, there’s nothing like a client breathing down my neck to maximize my productivity.

by
kids in motion, kids inc

Busted

January 6, 2012

“MOMMY WAKE UP!!”

Baby girl was yanking open my eyelids as I curled up on the floor in the living room. We were playing a sorting card game and from a sitting position, I found myself progressing to propping up my chin on my arms while lying on the floor, to a curled up foetal position within a matter of minutes. It was one of those post-insomniac nights and I was exhausted.

Besides, sorting card games didn’t make for the most mentally-stimulating exercise.

I was hoping they wouldn’t notice my lack of participation for 15 minutes but seeing how closely they monitor my participation, they quickly did and before I knew it, my child was in my face screaming at me to WAKE UP AND PAY ATTENTION.

I mustered a lame “Can mommy sleep for 15 minutes please? I’m very tired.”

I fully expected her to do more screaming but she let go of my eyelids, glanced at Tru and said “Ok, it’s very bright, you go to the room and sleep.”

I couldn’t believe my ears but hey, I wasn’t going to wait around for her to change her mind. I hastily got off my ass and did a swan dive into my bed, making a mental note to blog about how considerate and AWESOMESAUCE my kids are.

Now one of the skills I’ve learnt as a mother is to fall sleep with my ears still open for suspicious sounds. I would know if they were playing with water in the bathroom, or climbing up the window grilles or stealing gummies from the fridge. My brain would register all these sounds as I slept, flagging up the ones in which I would have to intervene.

They were quiet for several minutes but then I heard an unfamiliar clink coming from the kitchen.

I bolted out of my bed to find the both of them standing on chairs next to the kitchen counter. They were breaking into the fried shallot stash and shoving spoonfuls into their mouths. My mom makes these fried shallots as garnishing for porridge and they usually only get one spoonful mixed in with their dinner. This “crispy”, as they like to call it, is the magic ingredient that makes them finish their food and we ration it out sparingly. So it was like they found their pot of gold (en brown).

“Orhhh, you guys are busted,” I said, pretending to look upset.

Truett looked a little nervous but Kirsten was unflinching. She looked at me innocently and said “Mommy you tired? You lie down I pat you to sleep.”

I look at my two-and-a-half-year-old and I’d like to think that she’s too young to be masterminding such an elaborate scheme of mischief but honestly, I can’t be sure.

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kids in motion, kids inc

The Art of Girliness

January 4, 2012

It will always remain a mystery to me how I managed to make a girly girl. And not just any ordinary girly girl. The nail-painting, lipstick-applying, smiles-while-pointing-finger-to-cheek kind that walks around with more pink than should be allowed on any human being. Basically the kind that I used to mock mercilessly as a kid.

It’s like poetic justice coming to bite me in the uterus.

“BAM, here you go, you get the girliest of them all.”

When I was pregnant with Kirsten, I would dream of our all-girl dates which would involve throwing panties (not ours, obviously) at Jason Mraz from the mosh pit,  snowboarding down Mammoth Mountain, watching Manchester United tear Arsenal apart at Old Trafford (the husband gets excused from having to sit through the massacre), and eating profiteroles in Manhattan while rolling our eyes at girly girls that sashay past.

Guess I’m going to have to strike that last bit off my list.

Just over the Christmas period, Kirsten came home from school with a pink purse containing the following pink items: lipstick, compact powder, blackberry, car keys and credit card. It was her gift-exchange present and she’s been walking around touching up her makeup every 5 minutes “SEE MOMMY I’M SO PRETTY.” All I’m going to say is that pouch is headed for an unfortunate end very soon.

In other girly news, she’s developed a photo-taking craze. I used to be the one cajoling them for pictures, like “come on kids, just ONE picture, look at mommy HERE HERE! How about a smile? Ok fine, I’ll give you one gummy for every photo.”

But these days, she’s running everywhere asking me to take her photo. She’ll preen and pose and then proceed to check my camera before making me do retakes until she’s satisfied.

Like when we were at Sentosa last week, she ran up to each animal statue and insisted that she had to take a photo with every single one of them. After 2 animals, I was all “Ok, that’s cute, I got what I need,” but she was relentless. “How about the happy lionfish? And the octopus? There! There! Let’s go!”

For once, this girly thing is working out for me. And considering how much I’m going to save in gummies, maybe having a girly girl isn’t so bad after all.

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a spot of singapore, kids in motion, kids inc

Happy as a clam

January 3, 2012

Welcome to 2012. I hope the new year is treating you well so far and you’ve been enjoying every moment of it.

For us, the holidays are officially over and our merrymaking ways have come to a rather abrupt halt, which explains why I’m nursing a mild case of holiday hangover this morning. But then that’s to be expected on the first day back to work after a long break. It’s a good thing my work allows me to schedule an appointment with my bed at 2 o’clock this afternoon while the kids take their nap.

It’s one of the little perks of working from home, with another being the ability to spend the entire day wearing pyjamas and looking downright disheveled.

Anyway, since it was the last day of holidays yesterday, we told the kids they could pick their favorite activity and we’d bring them anywhere they wanted to go. They deliberated a moment before deciding on Sentosa, so even though we’d just been there 3 days before, it was off to Sentosa again.

They did have several specific requests, which were to ride the cable car, ride an orange (for Tru) and pink (for Kirsten) monorail train, ride the Luge, ride the Skyride and play at the kids area at Palawan Beach.

After each activity, they would ask “After this, where are we going?”

“To take the luge.” “To take the monorail.” “To get ice-cream.” “To the beach…”

“YAYYYYYYY!”

One by one, we checked off all the items on their list and watched their smiles get wider and wider as the day wore on.

They had so much fun that when it was time to go, they didn’t protest or negotiate for “5 more minutes” like they usually would. Kirsten put her head on my chest and said, “Ok, I’m very tired, I think I need to go home now.”

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