mirroring

Val's approaching his 2.5 year next weekend and i think now, more than ever, it is becoming very clear how much impact we, adults, have him. He's begun to mirror our actions more obviously, and especially the way we speak, often times with great deliberation, almost like a reproach.

he can imitate his teachers pretty well at school - from Teacher V's "angry" pouting expression, to the way class is conducted. just before he slept tonight, he started talking to me in a vaguely familiar manner - until i realised that he was mimicking me. Gosh! Scaryyyy! and i think he was doing it very much on purpose, as if to drive home a point - yes, mommy is quite the nag. OOOPS. But I'm glad at least i can "see" the mirroring, and thus aware of it.

The other day, it made me really reflect on my actions. You see, brushing teeth is quite the regime for Nazi Mom because i have seen too many kids go around with rotting, yellowed teeth with plenty of brown stains. Many of their parents aren't even aware that they need to brush their kids teeth and that the rotting of milk teeth can have long term impact on their children's future teeth growth. I shudder when i see my nieces' ghastly set of (rotting) teeth - a result of drinking powdered (horribly sweetened) formula milk before going to bed. So I began brushing Val's teeth while he was a mere infant - with cloth at first, and then a mini finger brush, and since he had full set of teeth, a proper baby toothbrush. It was never an issue, until now, when he's not so easily "manipulated" into opening his mouth etc for me to brush.

For two weeks, brushing teeth was getting to be a frustrating exercise for me. The toilet can get rather stuffy inside, especially when you are dealing with a squirmy 2.5 year old. And once i get sweaty, my blood literally boils. So a few times, i got real irritated, i scolded him. Then one day, the lil genius decided that he would like to brush MY teeth and begged to do so. I allowed him to do it with my toothbrush and of course, all he did was to jam my toothbrush into my mouth with much vigour. I had to really struggle not to choke! Then it dawned upon me that no matter how gentle i can be, the very act of brushing his teeth is a personal one, and one that can really encroach upon his own space and privacy.

Go on. Try and get someone to brush YOUR teeth and you will quickly realise what an uncomfortable act it is!

So from that day onwards, I began to see things more differently. First, i am now determined never to let my temper flare in the bathroom - because its a lousy thing to do anyways, and that i don't want him to ever associate tooth brushing with unhappiness. Second, i will be gentle in my approach and let him take the lead, while reminding him that he needs clean teeth or else... a visit to the dentist beckons.

And guess what? Tooth brushing has suddenly lost its edge and tension. What's more, the little boy is surprising me by taking the initiative to slowly get used to an older child's toothpaste that i had recently bought but he had rejected initially. He had been using First Teeth toothpaste (organic) for babies for the longest time, so when i bought Jason's (another organic brand but for older kids), he said it was too "hot", presumably a bit more minty? The past few days, he has asked for a dollop of it on his toothbrush, and been slowly using his finger to introduce bits of it into his mouth. Whenever it gets too "spicy", he would gargle his mouth. Today, he told me, "it's not spicy anymore" in Mandarin, rather proudly. :-) I would never have thought of introducing tooth paste this way. You really gotta give it to him for thinking up this method.

And so, another lesson for this Mommy, who will probably be learning for many years to come!

a rare sort of encounter...

Two hatchlings nestled in a heliconia plant - Kitchen Garden, Pasir Ris Green


I had a magical Friday... much more than Val did. And it's all about a rare encounter of the kampung spirit. See, it's been a long while since I last felt that sense of solidarity, and friendliness that was so familiar in Timor. People are strangers mostly here in our clean, cosmopolitan city. Not in Timor where people knew people, and nobody was a stranger, and you are always an alin(younger sister) or mana (older sister).

We had gone (for the third time!) to Gallop Stables to see the smelly horseys and mingled with the typical family crowd when we chanced upon the Kitchen Garden at Pasir Ris Park - all thanks to Val, who had refused to go home and bolted across the green grass towards the garden.

Hunting for tadpoles but there were none


There, I saw a huge variety of fruit trees and herbs, but more importantly, i met two friendly souls there. One of them Uncle D is in the picture above with Val. They bonded over a water hose after Uncle D showed Val how to water plants, the lil boy was trailing him all around the garden. The kindly old man had so much patience to teach the boy. It was great seeing two complete strangers getting along so well. Credit goes to Uncle D for being so friendly, and remembering Val's name at first mention.

The Kitchen Garden has been around for 12 years - and Uncle D has been volunteering there for just as long. This is his garden almost. He said he and a friend had mooted to the Nparks to create something like this, and the Nparks did. Since then, the retiree has been visiting the garden every single day for 12 years to water the plants, turn the soil, plant new trees etc. Amazing.

We then met Uncle A, an old friend of Uncle D, who had come to bring him some snacks. Without hesitation, the two old fellas shared their hotdogs with us, and we just sat there in a pavilion chatting like old friends for half an hour. Later Uncle A even sent us home in his vintage, dusty BMW.

I am a simple person who appreciates encounters like this one: it restores a lot of faith in people for me. It's been a long while since i last felt this bonding with strangers. This was what I loved about backpacking alone, cos you get lots of it. When you're alone, you are more open to meeting strangers and talking to them.

I was a very trusting sort - I would go out with dinner with strangers as long as I had a good feeling about them. Writing about the two old men reminds me of a memorable encounter in Burma, Christmas Eve 1999, in Mandalay.

A small group of us visited a famous restaurant and was told it was closed cos the family were going for Mass. They invited us back the next evening and when we turned up - we were ushered, seated and food served without us ordering anything. We ate, but with some typical unease - what if we get ripped off, right? The food was great, there was music and everything was merry. Still, our skeptical minds played tricks on us.

In the end, when we finished eating and wanted to pay (prepared for the worst), the restaurant owner, said "Merry Christmas." How wonderful right? This happening in a third world....

Anyways, here are some pictures of our magical day

Apart from wanting to be a dump truck driver, I think Val now rather fancies being a gardener.

Uncle D says if I bring Val back more frequently, he'll train the boy to be a green finger!


The innocence of youth

So free-spirited are the young. We need to keep them so.

I am glad my quest to make my boy an outdoors person seems to be on the right track!


Butterflies are a sign of a thriving ecosystem, they're also particularly attracted to this plant (name i don't know of). Uncle D plans to grow more of them to get the butterflies coming.

a weekend of museums in pics

It rawked!

Val with Walter the Rabbit, a gigantic inflatable wabbit that artist Dawn Ng brought all around Singapore and snapped pictures of - juxtaposing Walter with the HDB flat, MRT tracks, and shophouses. Children's Season at SAM, 8Q

Never mind that he couldn't read those words behind him, he sure was hopping madly away in Walter's garden!

Finally, Mama managed to catch hold of her wabbit.

Val in the enchanted forest...and he saw many other strange stuff like Floribots (flower robots, and ugly dolls)..

Over at the National Museum on Sunday...Val, the typical bloke misses the astounding beauty that flittered and fluttered about him. Sigh...

The Clay Critter that Val and Mama made at the workshop for kids

Instead of colouring the fishes, he took delight in snipping, and shredding them up in pieces.

Thrilled to finally lay hands on adult scissors - you know, the type that actually cuts.

There you go: Milo moment. A perennial fave for all kids. My future daughter-in-law. :-O

Revamped Challenge!

This was what kept me up for nights in March and April!

First issue of revamped Challenge magazine, a bi-monthly publication by the Singapore Public Service Division, Prime Minister's Office.

A pretty cool experience, given that this was a gov mag, there was very lil red tape involved and lots of edgy ideas and bold moves made. Kudos to the PSD editorial team for letting us do what we wanted!

A luta continua - - - to the next issue in July!

His name is Today

“We are guilty of many errors and many faults but our worst crime is abandoning the children, neglecting the fountain of life. Many of the things we need can wait. The child cannot. Right now is the time his bones are being formed, his blood is being made, and his senses are being developed. To him we cannot answer 'Tomorrow.' His name is 'Today.'"

- Gabriela Mistral, Chilean Poet (1889-1957)

Growing up

So i grew up this past week when I finally took the first baby step and made my first trip overseas (sans Val) ever since the babe became part of my life.

It was a weird experience all right. And quite unneccessary. I had planned it as part of a weaning off process - S had told me that if i was set on weaning off Val from comfort sucking, it would have to be a physical separation of at least 3 days. That started the entire planning for an overseas trip - now or later? How about in July when the EWC holds its 50th reunion in Honolulu? Or now, when the mag has just been put to bed? Finally I decided that May was the best time as little Silky babe will pop outta the oven in June and by then the entire household would be topsy-turvy with the arrival of a new babe.

Next, was to find a travelling companion. Yeah sounds utterly strange considering that i was renowned for being a single traveller during my single days. Me - the lone adventurer who could go for months on my own. I still enjoy my own company, thank you very much. But my mom got all emo on me when i suggested i would take off for Bali for 4 days. So apparently once i become a parent, i can't do the whole "irresponsible" single travelling anymore. (whatever. it's a long story).

So who could be duped to go somewhere with me and er... do nothing - cos that was all on my agenda? Luckily i found someone keen to have a chilled out time and we booked our tickets to HK. It was supposed to be Macau but somehow we ended up in HK. And that was not without protests from other friends, who thought that Me - the garang traveller - should never step onto HK cos it's too ...ermmm.... civilised for me. Anyhow, i shrugged their protests aside and decided HK would be just right for being away for 4 nights. We would leave at 6am on Tuesday and return at 11pm on Friday night which means my folks would only have to care for Val during the weekdays (when he goes to childcare the large part of the day), while i return in time for the more intensive weekends. So there, tickets were booked and all set for the great weaning off holiday.

Then on April 18, my sister's one year wedding anniversary, i was suddenly inspired. I just had that feeling I couldn't ignore that today was the day to wean Val off. So I did.

That first night, he cried and wailed inconsolably. I cried too seeing him in that upset state. I even kept apologising to him and had to stop myself from giving in. He fell asleep past 11pm, exhausted from the crying.

The second night, he asked for milk again, and cried and cried. but this time, sick Mommy was actually bemused and could only smile.

The third night, Val decided to be defiant and got angry with me. He scolded Mommy for denying his sustenance. Mommy laughed even more.

The fourth night, the boy decided to try a bit of negotiation. He cajoled Mommy, he pleaded, he turned on his charms, he asked, "Just a little bit? please....." But Mommy was resolute.

The fifth night, he began to see the humour in it all but still held some faint hope. So while he was cracking jokes about it, he still had a glimmer of hope there in his cute eyes.

I think he finally forgot to ask for milk only by the tenth night or so. The greatest reward from all this has to be that from April 18, the lil un hAS NOT woken up at all through the night for any milk or water or whatever. Suddenly, it was like he realised there wasn't any point getting up, and there he was - my lil boy, the one who loved suckling on Mama's milk and loved being held so close - was sleeping truly like an angel for a straight 10 hours. Hallelujah! Praise the Lord indeed!

I never really asked myself if i should have weaned him off earlier. Somehow i have always been an instinctive person. I just knew that day was right for Val and I. I had, of course, been prepping him for that eventuality and had not suddenly announced the stopping of b/m. So by the time i stopped, he knew it was coming. Somehow, I think he is also old enough to understand why.

The funniest thing is that he went back to school and told his teachers that his mommy's boobs are gone that's why he can't have any milk. Today, he asked me where i could look for those missing boobs! Another night, he asked if we could buy some boobs so that he could have milk. It's hilarious.

Totally memorable. And i am totally proud of having suckled him from day 1, December 13, 2007, till April 18, 2010 (last feed was that Sunday afternoon). No regrets at all for having this intense emotional attachment with my son. I am so proud of myself and Val and so thankful for my family for being there throughout my breastfeeding journey to support me - to be there when naysayers tried to encourage me to give up.

Whilst planning the HK trip, i was afraid i might be engorged while being away. So i even emailed my lactation consultant for advice. Of course, i didn't need to do anything although i must say that for at least 10-12 days, i could still express milk if i so wished (i did express some on two occasions to prevent engorgement). It's amazing how the breasts were still able to produce milk after so many days of stopping. It also goes to prove that women in extreme hardships can still lactate because it is really the easiest thing to do - - imagine having to look for hot water to sterilise bottles and make milk during war time! I think this experience gives me something to bring back to the field IF i ever make it back to Unicef in the future.

So anyhow, now that the weaning was over, i thought, hmmm, so should i still go to HK then? I was (and continue to be) filled with Mommy guilt - since i didn't have to go anymore, why was i going? Anyways, with encouragement again, from my wonderful folks who promised not to spoil the kid in the four days i would be away, i decided to take up the gauntlet and get off my ass.

The flight was harder than i thought.

Of all movies UA played, it had to be Blindside. You know the story - about a homeless boy taken in by a family. All that motherly love thingie going on. Suffice to say, i got all emo by it. Thinking of my poor son, who would wake up to find Mama gone for days! Yikes. It was a good thing i was physically on a plane ,away from Val cos i was tempted to just turn around and go home!

That night, i waited in intrepidation for an sms from my Mom. By 1130pm, she smsed to say he was finally asleep, with some crying. The next night, he slept by 10pm, asking for me only ONCE! and so the story goes...

I was happy of course, though a lil miffed, shall i say, that my son asked for me ONCE. A lil bemused too but very impressed by him.

Grandma asked if i had prepared Val for my HK trip - i did. For some nights i had prepared him for it, the same way i had prepared for the weaning. I guess that kinda did the trick. Grandma said she was utterly impressed by how mature Val was - he was able to tell her that i was in HK and that he behaved himself incredibly well for the four nights i was away.

On Sat night, i crept into bed to sleep with my dearest precious package, at 1am. The sight of my darling melted my heart and for the first time in four nights, i was finally able to sleep SOUNDLY again! i had missed his presence in my bed so badly. Missed his little legs all over me, his warm hands draped on my neck, his whole body flung on me in all sorts of odd positions. I had missed all the acrobatics so much that i didn't sleep well :-) or had real difficulty sleeping each night. So that was a relief.

Although at the same time, there was some intrepidation - that when i wake up on Saturday morning, i would have to morph back to being Mommy - that brief four days in HK when my old self had re-emerged will have to hide back again and wait till the next trip (Only GOD knows when! maybe 20 years later!). A little bit of that "Cinderella" feeling - that my pumpkin carriage, glass shoes, and gown would all disappear. Yet, i knew that it was all good. My baby was beside now, and that's all that matters.

The next morning on Saturday morning, the boy woke up. The first thing he did? He asked for his racing car, giving nary a glance at Mommy who was lying there, expecting a bear hug and kisses. !!!!!!! This would be the epitome of unrequited love i tell you! it's a good thing, he's my son and Moms love their kids no matter what. I had to remind him, Hello, Mommy's back. He said, Ya, and started hunting for his cars (!!!). But Grandma knew better - she said, you can see from his entire behaviour that Mommy's back. He was just not the same when Mommy was away. So there.

I couldn't hug and kiss him enough the first hour, as we got ready and left for a great breakfast together followed by music class. Ahh......... the bliss indeed. Thank you Lord for blessing me with this precious precious cargo. I promise to do my best to make sure he gets delivered with the utmost care. Even in a mere four days, he seemed older and more mature. He spoke in Mandarin clearly. I was suddenly seized by the fact that i might have missed something in those four days!

I was going to share a beautiful poem on children and them growing up but can't seem to dig it out! Will do so another post.

Meanwhile, i am going to savour every minute of my boy as he grows up. Nighto.

Val @ 28 months

I used to snap a pic of the pair on every 13th of the month, to mark Val's growth. But kinda lost steam after the first year and when Val became too wriggly for Grandpa to handle. So this is quite a rare moment.


Val studying his late Great Grandma's picture with Grandpa.


Val teasin' Grandpa as usual. This boy is really Grandpa's love of his life at this moment. Grandpa really brightens up when he's with him.


Finally. Grandpa caught hold of Val for a pic! Look at that cheeky expression!

he looked sound asleep

Yesterday morning I bid my farewell to Second Uncle at the hospital. For a moment, Dad and I just stood there not knowing what to do - he had already been covered up. Then Cousin Wilfred very decisively unveiled Uncle. I was taken aback by how much weight he had lost since i last saw him. The cancer had really taken its toil. i stroked his head briefly and said a prayer. Didn't know what else i could do. Then everyone left and i was alone in the room with him. i realised that the look on his face is a familiar one. He just looked like an old person sound asleep, mouth ajar. Peaceful even. I hope he's found his peace now and that our prayers can send him to a better place than this bitter terra that made his last days so hard to bear. Crying hurts my eyes.

no regrets please

Second Uncle passed away this morning. When I heard the news, I was seized by an immense sense of regret and the tears began to flow. Yesterday, my folks had told me that my uncle (who suffered from throat cancer) had slipped into a coma after his condition worsened. When I was about to visit him, I was told his condition had stabilised and that I could visit this evening instead. So I never got to say goodbye.

I was never close to him but I cried more than when my Grandmother died. Why? I think it’s the sense of regret – I could have said goodbye but never. I last saw this bachelor uncle when he was first diagnosed with throat cancer a year ago. Since then, I never visited him in the nursing home even as my elderly dad toiled every week to visit him. Guilty? Yes definitely.

Lesson learnt? Don’t leave what you can do today for tomorrow. If you need to tell someone you love him or her – do it today because you never know when it’s too late.

love hurts

“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.”

~ Neil Gaiman

Saw this on another blog and thought it a wonderful (and poignant) quote to share. I also subscribe to Neil's Tweets so it's doubly nice that way.

a big Challenge

A short post just because I was so inspired by something that a mentor told me today. P, who used to be a record-breaking national swimmer, told me that in face of the multiple challenges that i have, to conquer it like an athlete would: train, practise, work hard and you will put fear in your competition - translate that to what i do: do your homework well, be disciplined and I will meet all my deadlines and even rise above them. I was very encouraged by her spirit - how she brought her star athlete's energy into the workplace and thrived above her mates. I too want to have that kind of gungho to get what i want. I am lucky that i had four years of training as a journalist - you just cannot miss deadlines so that, at least, has been imbibed in me. You can't imagine how pathetic some people are with managing deadlines. As P would say, there's no excuse. I agree.

Ten resolutions for TwentyTen

I had written down this list in FB. Thought i shd replicate it here for posterity sake.

1. Get fit (lose some jiggly fats!)
2. Stay healthy
3. Save $$$$
4. Learn something new
5. Finish reading at least 6 books on my shelf!
6. Exercise greater patience while parenting Val
7. Be more prayerful & bring Val to church more often
8. Keep staying out of gossip circles!
9. Let optimism &... happy thoughts conquer the sad, evil ones!
10.Attend EWC reunion in July!

Hiatus upon us

Lan Lan's flowers for Val

When we were at the playground this evening, a friend's daughter, Lan Lan, played with Val for the first time. She, being 8 years older, was such a sweetie - so nurturing and so caring. She took care of Val as they ran up and down the slope. The boy was cackling non-stop in delight of course. Then they teased mimosas, making them open and shut, and then rolled stones down the slope. As we were about to leave, Lan Lan picked flowers for Val which he brought home carefully in a lil sandcastle making mound. He intoned, "I will put these here for Popo to see." What a beautiful way to end our Sunday. :-)

Anyways, i thought this would also be a fine way to say that a hiatus is upon us for this blog for the coming months. I shd be blogging infrequently because my semester is starting Monday and our company just received another major contract, with the first deadline in May. So things are going to chug ahead at full steam now!

I am trying very hard not to panic at what lies ahead. As history has shown, things always pan out at the end. As long as my wits are about me, and keep faith in the good Lord, things will be just fine. I just have to be super disciplined and anytime spent on the laptop will have to be quality time - err... yes, i mean, as much as possible. Still, i have a sneaking suspicion that i will blog, as way of distraction. Anyways, wish me luck guys! I have three more modules to go - - the one i am tackling this semester is on "Food and undernutrition", another two more to go next semester and 2011! and i will be DONE! then who knows what the future will hold, now that my Masters are in my hands! whooop!

Get in touch the real way

"The Face" by Valente Joseph Lay

These two pieces are probably Val's most "coherent" swirls and scribblings so far. Usually he would make a whole lot of scribbles everywhere but tonight he suddenly seemed to have some "idea" of going in concentric circles, and making all kinds of shapes here and there. The art direction from me was minimal - i suggested that he could change colour, or suggested an empty spot that he might want to add something but this is 99% his. I love that an accidental face emerged from an accidental stroke.

"Swirls" by Valente Joseph Lay

I had actually intended to make postcards with the yellow card - you see, i had recently contacted some of my overseas friends via FB and asked if they would like to be penpals with Val. I thought that since Val would probably grow up surrounded by all things virtual - SMS, Social media networks, emails, skype, video talks, etc - it might be nice to allow something REAL like stamps, letters and postcards to shape his impressionable mind at this age. Most of them responded positively (I presume the rest have not read their FB messages or are hardly ever on it), so we have friends in Seattle, Scotland, Shanghai, Oahu, Jakarta and Bangkok participating in this. Last Saturday, I brought Val to the Tanglin Post office after our music class to grab some stamps. Yesterday I tried to hunt for postcards but could not find any! So i grabbed some remaining art card from the office and decided to make our own. I was planning to get him to scribble, scrawl, do anything he wanted, and then cut them down to size and send them out. But after seeing his stuff, I feel it'd be a shame to cut it down. I think I'll send it out to one of the penpals instead. Hope to get more art card next week and let the lil guy and his markers loose on them!

The Rare Visitor

Val having a "conversation" with Uncle J about his rock

It was very serendipitous I must say. Sometime in May or June 2009, I interviewed an architect on their ION Orchard project and that guy passed me a small booklet that had mug shots of his staff. I looked and did a double take when I saw a familiar face - a friend from JC whom I had not seen in 16 years! My interviewee was equally surprised and hooked us both up via email. So i wrote to say hi to J who is now based in Shanghai, and an intermittent conversation started from there on.

When J was back in Singapore briefly, I brought Val out to meet Uncle J, who really really lived up to his self-professed reputation for having a knack for kids. Of course, it helped that there was some ice-cream to break the ice! But I must say the pair got on roaringly well. I think it helped that I had shown Val Uncle J's picture before they met cos I was afraid that his beard might scare the lil boy. I think that early picture introduction worked really well - so well, that by the end of our outing, Val even dared to touch the scraggly beard and give the uncle a peck on his cheek! So Kudos to you, Uncle J!

Since this guy is a rare visitor I thought I shd commemorate the occasion with some (crappy iPhone) pictures here of our sweltering hot afternoon out at Pasir Ris Park - which in my opinion is an absolutely fab place to bring an energetic 2 year old!

Where else do we start but at Val's favourite fire engine???


The driver and his over-sized passenger

Wasn't before long that Val ventured into the murky Pasir Ris waters. Urgg...

Contemplation...Hmm... shd we dash in?

Dippy toes and fingers! But Val still got incredibly sandy and wet! We sure weren't prepared to swim, not in Pasir Ris waters!


Never easy to say goodbye to the sea when you're having a great time! But lil fella, it's time to get out!

tong tong chiang

Up at the rooftop of Orchard Central. :-) Handsome boy...

Val was intrigued yet scared of the Lion... see how he was cowering when the friendly Leo came up close.


**Photos by Uncle CW
Thanks!

Ben is our best friend, Jerry is his pal

Photos by Auntie See Yiing

We had lunch with a small bunch of friends today at Victoria Peak (in Singapore!), at the relatively new Orchard Central. It was a great location - 11th Floor - affording us a birds eye view of the Orchard area - things sure looked different from atop! There was also the requisite Tong Tong Chiang - Lion Dance troupe - that made an auspicious ruckus. I gave the lion an angbao and they came close up to us, but the lil un was so afraid, we didn't get a good pic together with the furry thang. Val's still fascinated by Lions and Dragons though. everytime he hears the drums and cymbals anywhere, he would urge me to bring him to see the uniquely Chinese dance. After a sumptuous Dimsum lunch, we went on the 12th floor for a walk - nice flowers and open garden - and then to Heaven's Loft for ice cream. This picture says it all: he heart ice cream! It was Ben & Jerry's Macadamia Nut and Vanilla... the same flavours he had when we celebrated his first birthday at the zoo in December 2008. :-) Anyhow, this guy is easy. He doesn't need expensive B&J to buy him over. When Uncle J came visiting few weeks ago, the lil chap became best friends with his bearded friend over a cup of $1 ice cream too.. :-)

Snowball's death

Our office once had a pet rat. She was a colleague's rat but he was going to national service and couldn't care for her anymore so the office adopted her. Snowball was, well, white. Fat. And getting fatter each day.

We didn't know why. I didn't care too much because her tail - that long, pink tail with coils going round in circles - gave me the extreme heebie-jeebies. I couldn't bear to carry her, not with that long thing touching me. Anyways, i digress. So as she got progressively dormant, a kind-hearted colleague, B, our senior manager, brought Snowball to the vet. The diagnosis? She was constipated and would die soon. She was too old for surgery and the medication wasn't able to help her purge all the toxic stuff in her. So within a week, she passed.

Since then i have always wanted to blog about constipation but never found the guts to do so. And also to find time, and perhaps, that inspired moment. Tonight, i found myself inspired to write about constipation.

Not mine. Oh No. I, thank the Lord, have been blessed most of my life with an easy time in the loo. But increasingly i have been been hearing, apart from Snowball's case of immovable bowel, many friends and colleagues suffering from the same affliction.

I have had only TWO cases of extreme constipation my entire life - once, during my Kota Kinabalu climb, and the second, was when I was pregnant. The first occasion was triggered by a monotonous diet of Oreo cookies while gunning for the peak. Being a "heaty" person, it doesn't really take much heaty stuff to clog me up. Suffice to say, the day after the summit, it wasn't the weak knees and legs that i suffered from, but a very constipated ass that endured a painfully long session in the loo. The second time was when I naively took the iron pills prescribed by a kind UN doctor for my pregnancy. See, iron pills are good for women who don't get enough nutrition, but for women like me, it was just waaaay too much iron in the diet. I had horrible horrible constipation and swore off those awful pills right after.

anyways, that's about it. I hardly ever constipate. instead, i am the kind who goes in and out of the loo, done under five minutes flat. I never dawdle, i never read, i never ever wait out a shit. I go when i feel the urge and i leave immediately. I have been told by doctors that i have a great toilet habit. And dare i say, during my treks in the wilderness of Tibet, i used to make "perfect" looking shit like those you see in the cartoons. I kid you not!

But it seems that many other people (family, friends, colleagues) suffer from constipation much more than they deserve. I hear of colleagues who can go ONCE a week. Imagine, all that excreta stuck inside the turns and corners of your guts.

The reasons? Here are the two most bizarre: One of them can't bear to use public toilets so she would keep things in until she's home or on rare occasions, telephones a friend who lives nearby and uses her home loo; the other can't bear the embarrassment of others knowing she's in the loo because our tiny office only has TWO cubicles and it's painfully obvious who's in the loo emitting strange sounds and smells, so this colleague moves her bowels every Saturday morning, in the peace and quiet of her home.

But there are others more: I hear how they try to lubricate their insides, drinking tea, honey, and vinegar, eating prunes, salads, and Chinese medication. Anything, and everything under the sun. Sometimes, the remedies work for a brief period and there's happiness all around. But always, it seems, the remedies stop working soon after. I have tried recommending morning yoga because i know how effective it can be but no one has taken that up yet.

I had a relative who once did an endoscope for another problem, and was told by the doctor that the scope was not long enough for his intestines because years of constipation had stretched his guts tooo long. Incredible.

And so, on a daily basis, i see these people struggle with a problem that literally makes them go green in the face. A colleague was recently down with severe stomach aches cos of her accumulated shit. Imagine that. So constipation is really nothing to kid about. It can get lethal.

I sometimes wonder is it because of our diet that we have become so congested? Is it too much meat in our food? Is it the lack of exercise? Or is it the work stress that's causing the blockage? I do know that the constant struggle to shit and the aim to get a "smooth one" can get depressing for some. It seems futile and also such a deep dark secret. At least in my office, there are enough constipated people around to make it no longer a secret struggle. A small group of them have banded together, in good humour, to share their recipes and antidotes. I admire their efforts and wish them the best of luck and hope someone would try the yoga. For me, I just keep reminding myself to eat healthily and never take my good shit for granted.

Because, you never know when you might just do a Snowball.

Roar like a tiger... whimper like a cat

@ the old seletar airbase - can you see the defiance in him? urggg...


phew.........what can i say? the past four days have been INTENSE. not so much intense the visiting of relatives for the lunar new year festivities but the intense mother-son bonding that went on.

I approach each and every one of these long weekends with much trepidation - don't get me wrong, i love my son to bits but boy, oh boy, four straight days of being together 24/7 can take its toll! It was all going quite well until tonight, the last night, when i lost it quite completely.

He was cranky, and trying, and being in the "terrible-twos" stage, become quite a competent negotiator. He won over his grandparents but couldn't get past scary mommy in his attempts to secure a candy at night, an ice cube to suck on, a cold drink, another yoghurt etc etc etc. His requests just seemed endless and all so wrong. I am not the Nazi mom who doesn't allow my son to touch ice, cold drinks or sweets, but i have my limits too - - nothing sweet after dinner for sure, and nothing cold especially when the lil fella has a runny nose and loose stools today! So i stood firm, and was greeted with terrific howls of protests... he clearly knew that his grandparents would accede to his requests so he placated them but i am proud to announce that the oldies have enough respect to stay on my side. But i am not so sure they would have stuck to their guns, if i weren't home... i am quite sure my mom would have given him a sweet at the very least. Grandparents are like that - they're hard wired to spoil the kid, cos they can. I remember my mom being the strictest mommy ever, and here she is, a complete softie at val's manipulations.

At that point, he was in a meltdown, screaming, crying, and kicking, completely irrational. My parents couldn't handle him anymore and I was getting super frustrated. So what did i do? I hauled him back to the room, shut it, and for a v v v v v brief moment went berserk. I am quite sure profanities slipped through my gap in those nanoseconds and i was terribly sorry for what i did. The eruption was fast and furious, but over in seconds, and I very quickly gave him a hug once he too quietened down. I think he was shocked to see me go nuts. But come on, i am human, okay..... i mean, which mommy doesn't go nuts once in a while right?

perhaps there's a latent fear that i spoil him, being the only child. i don't want that to happen. perhaps because of that, i guard myself even more. i always try to explain to him that loving him does not equate acceding to his every request. i don't know if he can understand that but i still tell him. I tell him i love him so much but i cannot give him everything he wants. i tell him, he can cry if he wants, and i'll be glad to hug him whenever he needs me.


Parenting is so tough.

books are me

I did a very tiny spot of spring cleaning yesterday, grounded at home on MC.

sometimes you get inspired like that - you pick up something, and the next thing you know, you're on a spring cleaning warpath. So it happened with my bookshelf.

It's not any old bookshelf - but a handmade bookshelf that my mom's student, a carpenter, had crafted following an Ikea catalogue from the early 1990s. It's a Billy Bookcase lookalike but tonnes more sturdy. No sagging at any spots despite all the tomes it has had to carry.

My bookshelf defines me. And this is why I have increasingly found it difficult to move things away from it. But alas, as Val grows, his collection of books are also increasing. I have had to clear out a spot here and there for him. Yesterday, I took the plunge and cleared out the entire second shelf for him. I have formally relegated a part of my bookshelf with my scion. such is the nobility of motherhood - and the idea of sacrifice, and giving up, as well as merging of two to one, came through ever so clearly. This boy has now become an irreplaceable part of me.

Even before Val's arrival, i would do a yearly cleaning of this bookshelf. I would plough through the boxes, the files, and the rows of books - play musical chairs with them essentially cos i could not bear to junk anything. After all, i have always been a careful book buyer. I buy books that i really want to keep. So how could i bear to part with any?

Every book and every author signified a special period of my life

The Murakami novels and non-fiction are proudly placed together. I think I read my first Murakami in the New Jersey house of an ex-love. I had visited him and his family, and stayed there for 10 days. I was given a room that had many of Murakami's novels. I picked up the Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and finished it before i left. I was told that Murakami had stayed in the same house as I - albeit decades earlier. My ex-love's mom was close friends with him and when he needed to escape the fan frenzy in Japan, he came to America for a sabbatical. Here, he wrote a number of books, one of them, an autobiography in Japanese. My ex-love's sister's picture is in it.

There on the shelf are also some Salman Rushdie books. My sis had begun reading them before me but none had piqued my interest. Not until the Satanic Verses. I bought my copy in the States during my six-months Hawaii study trip. Rani was a great help, "translating" many of the Quranic references that helped me gain a richer understanding of the book. Thereafter I was hooked. I chanced upon Rushdie's Haroun and the Sea of Stories and loved it. I was so in love that I went around looking for it at second hand book stores because I loved the original illustrations. I found a copy at Far East Plaza.

The English Patient was a book I read multiple times. Of course it had everything to do with the beautiful film - I first saw it in Toronto, while on a break during my six months at Ithaca College.But the real reason is because I had met Ondaatje in person, later on, during my internship at In Conversation. I had researched him for Sonny Lim, and in the process read six of his books including his poems. Bought them out of my own expenses too! When we finally met, he gave me a big hug and a kiss on my cheek.

Then there's that Milan Kundera book, The Unbearable Lightness of Being. Here's one book that I read ONCE - - on a cargo ship (that used to carry cattle), down the south of Chile towards the ice bergs of Punta Arenas. It was during my 3-month trip with Raleigh International. Soon Heong had lent me the book, and I devoured it. Somehow, the book had so much resonance for me, with everything that was happening to me then (the isolation, the crush i had, the entirely foreign surroundings). I loved the book, I thought I could understand that unbearable lightness of being. When I returned to Singapore, I bought the book, but found that I could never bring back that moment. The new book remains unthumbed, but whatever Kundera meant to convey had already been embedded in my heart.

There are two sets of books that took me years to finish reading. The first set was the Lord Of the Rings trilogy. I bought them during my JC days but never got past the first book. The imagery was too rich, too complex to imagine. I am limited that way! But when the films came out, everything made sense. I went back to the books and finished them very quickly this time. Here's a real case of how movies can boost book sales!

The second book was Vikram Seth's A Suitable Boy which i took seven long years to finish. It didn't belong to me. Elaine had loaned it to me and then it just got stuck there on my shelf. It was horrible seeing it cos i would feel this strong guilt for not returning to her. But i knew, just knew, that someday I would conquer it. So when I was posted to East Timor, this was the first book i packed. And I remember that day when I finally finished it. I was sitting on the verandah of my boss' house - I was staying with her for a few months - it was a Sunday afternoon. The waves were breaking in front of me, and then, a slight breeze touched my skin. I reached the last page, it took me by surprise, and i re-read the last chapter a couple of times, almost stunned that it had finally ended. I was just beginning to know the families in the book, their web of complex relationships, and the political milestones of the times. With much reluctance, I finally clapped the heavy tome closed and declared it finished. The book was returned to its owner in 2008.

100 Years of Solitude, A Fine Balance, God of Small Things; Karen Armstrong, Germaine Greer, Shakespeare. So many books, so many memories. Many books still left unread, and strategically placed in the front row so i won't miss them. My new year's resolution was to read at least six of these books. :-) Hope I will accomplish that.

Thank you books for bringing me worlds I could never have lived in. I do hope Val will come to love books as much as I do. For a person who loves to read, will never be lonely.