I Love Helping Mum

Finally! A post that's just more than a photo uploaded from Instagram or from my iPhone. How sad am I, as far as blogging goes, these days?

I'd be ashamed to call myself one, which is why, I don't.

We've been busy recently. Or rather, I have. Stumbled upon Pinterest recently and have been totally addicted. As much, I've been bombarded with DIY and craft ideas so have been busy with my hands. Enlisted small fry to help but she gets distracted so easily when it comes to the nitty gritty.

Lucky me, though, that she loves organizing as much as I do. So here are a few of her dilligently filling in little jars with my collection of buttons. Diligently, that is, until her playmate Troy calls her up on the phone for a dinner-cum-playdate at the playground.

We can just imagine what she'll be like when she reaches dating age.

Slowly, slowly...

Oops, dropped one!

What's THAT doing in there?

Updates, So Far

Just doing a bit of housecleaning and it would seem as if most of my friends who have blogs (or those I've listed here anyway) don't seem to be posting. Or have started up blogs elsewhere. Or whatever.

Heck, I'm not much better myself.

Still....

The Most Loving Couple

Cliched but, a picture's worth a thousand words.

Contemplating

The photogenic Trixie, caught in a moment of reflection.

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club

Psychedelic chic! Wish buses look like that in KL. Spotted in HK.

June Already!

Heelloooooo!!

It's been a quiet year, blogwise. Have been posting more on tumblr recently. Just shoot, upload pix and there you have it. Am not predisposed to many words these days. And I try not to post too many pix of the small fry. Gawd knows, there are too many sickos out there.

Oh well...

So now am stuck at home on self-imposed quarantine. Ever since I got sick in Markdorf prior to coming home, been a bit woozy and find that exposing myself to AC is not the thing to do. So one more day of staying at home, and hopefully, we'll be back in full swing.

Or, at least, half swing maybe.

Good Morning, Saturday!

Sunday morning rain is pouring,
Steal some covers share some skin....

Wait, Maroon 5 expressly said Sunday, not Saturday. Oh well, same sentiment, same weather.

Hallooo, weekend!

Language

Small fry love going through her Chinese books. She came upon this phrase in the book and came to me:

它们不会读

"Mum, I don't know this word, the first one."

"That's 'tā', babe."

"That's not 'tā', mum."

"That's 'tā', sayang. It's a different one."

"Oh, ok."

And that's how I know the small fry is recognizing her Chinese characters and reading them, as opposed to memorizing the sounds and just repeating them.

Her usual encounters with the characters take on the different forms: 他 and 她, which are the masculine and feminine forms. So stumbling upon the neutral 它 and professing that that's not the usual is a good sign: she's really picked up her Chinese.

Good for her. At her age, I'd be lucky to understand a lick of Chinese, though I did converse fluently in my father's dialect, Hinghua (a branch of Hokkien), and English.

Well, now that we know small fry's Chinese is moving along, it's time to work on her BM. Yikes.

Tomorrow Can't Come Fast Enough

Me: Remember, you're going to school tomorrow morning.
Small fry: Tomorrow morning, today?
Me: Tomorrow morning.
Small fry: Tomorrow morning, today?
Me: Yes, tomorrow morning.
Small fry: Today tomorrow morning?
Me: Yes, tomorrow morning, today.

Satisfied smirk from small fry.

How Not To Use The Remote Control

Last night, I tried unsuccessfully to switch on the fan using the remote control. I pointed the thing at the standing fan and press as I might on the button, the blurdy fan remained obstinately silent. Out of frustration, I turned to small fry and said to her, "What did you do with the fan? It's not working!"

Note: small fry likes to ambush the fan and constantly turns it off when it is most appreciated. I thought that this time she may have gone so far as to turn it off at the main electrical connection.

She retorted, "Mummy, you're pressing the OFF button!"

"Oh!" replied her sheepish Mummy.

It takes a four year-old to point out that I don't know how to use a remote control. Yikes.

The fan whirred to life as soon as the correct button was pressed.

Leaking Everywhere!

As if reading about radiation leaks at Fukushima is not bad enough, my house decides to up the ante on me and go on a leaky rampage itself.

First, the pipes decide to spring a leak. That's been going on for the past month or more and I've only just had the chance to look into that. The plumber came this morning to fix the leak. And it wasn't until last night when he had come to inspect the leak initially that he pointed out the leak was so bad that the wall was seeped through and sure enough, when I moved the wardrobe away from the wall, I discovered that  mold had ran amok and taken over the whole wall. Which certainly explained the sour milk, pukey smell that the room was emanating and that I was attributing to the various clothes hanging in the wardrobe that was serving as a front to the offending leak and mold explosion.

Now that the pipe has been fixed and the water tank thoroughly washed, I discovered another inexplicable leak, this one of an even more serious nature. From the sounds of it anyway. Though it wasn't till the end of the day that I noticed the low pressure from the shower which led me to investigate the mains which in turn led me to notice the water metre gone berserk and the sound of running gushing water emanating from the whereabouts of the water tank.

Oh gawd! What monster has my plumber unleashed?

To make matters worse, the water has been gushing the whole day since noon. And there is no trace of where that water has gushed to. The plumber has been notified and can only come in the afternoon tomorrow. It'll be a day of water rationing and using only when needed as I don't intend to possibly flood the house or worse, the neighbour's house!

To top it all off, I sat down at the end of it all to turn on the TV only to find that the Astro smart card is inactive. Strange, since it pretty active even yesterday. After a bit of fiddling to no avail, I checked the Astro bill. Looks like someone forgot to pay last month's bill. Sigh.

This is not one of my more enjoyable trips home to KL.

A Girl & Her Best Friend

A sunny day, good company, a nearby beach = a great day out! Small fry went to the beach with Troy, her 7 year-old best friend, and had a blast building sandcastles and getting thoroughly tanned. The 'aunties' were thoroughly amused with the two kids. They provided enough laughs and entertainment to last throughout the trip and the following days.

Morning Radio Is Not The Best of Mood Picker-Uppers

So here I am, a year older, not necessarily much the wiser but then again, what's new, eh?

Time sure flies when you're not on the blogosphere. Not that it doesn't when you're on it either. How I do digress. Anyway, back to the mundane...

Driving to work today, I had the radio on and they were taking calls about relationship issues with an expert from Monash University on hand to dish out advise. A woman comes on saying that she's been married for 3 years and that they've just had a baby. Then she goes on to say that the marriage/relationship is not the same after baby...there's still romance but things are just not the same, etc...but it's just not the same...etc. it's not the same anymore.

Hmmm...

It just sounded like a whole load of whining to me.

Come on, woman! Listen to yourself and grow up already! You've just added another person to your family, of course things are not the same! And you shouldn't expect them to be. It's just not about you or your partner anymore. You have a different priority in life. Of course things are not the same! Even if you haven't had a baby, relationships change, marriages evolve. Of course things are not going to be the same. What tempurung have you been living under?

Anyway, I couldn't stand how the woman was whining so I switched stations even before the expert could come on air. Someone should come up  with a station where there's minimal talking and mostly (good) music. I'd happily tune in.

Sometimes I seriously, seriously wonder what people have in their minds when they wander incoherently, eyes closed into marriage. Or relationships, for that matter.

Nothing remains the same; relationships and people evolve, things change. That is the only normalcy and constant in life.

As to being in a relationship and finding a life partner, like I recently advised a friend: we already strive so hard in life to find happiness - at work, personally, emotionally, spiritually - that we don't need to rush into a relationship or marriage just because we are lonely or that we want to be accepted by society. Being involved with another person should only be an option when that person ADDS to your happiness, not take away from it.

Seriously, what's the point when you're in a relationship and miserable when you can be single and happy? I'd take the latter any day.

It's a no-brainer; if people would realize this rather than fight it or try to live up to society's (friends, family, etc.) expectations, there'd be less miserable couples, divorces and screwed-up marriages.

Of Cats, Crabs And Whatnot

So we love our colours, crayons and pens. And no one loves them more than small fry.

A yellow crab

The letter 'T' poking itself with a pin

A fountain with a hole in the middle from where it exploded out of

Where all her 'diaps' sleep

A black cat

An interesting foray into the mind of a toddler, don't you think?

Personal Seamstress

While I've been away from blogging, I haven't been just idling my time away. The proof is below; I've been personal seamstress to small fry. Other than sewing up bags, I've diversified into dresses for small fry.



The lavender dress that's meant for the upcoming do in Melaka. The big patch of flowers at the front is actually a pocket (one of the criteria I had to fulfill to get small fry to promise to wear the dress).


The back of the dress is a ruffle-filled extravaganza.



The other dress for the KL do: a cream princess-cut confection in Swiss cotton topped off with tulle at the hem and punk ruffle roses.

Still in the works, a duotone dress in Italian cotton for casual wear and already completed, a party dress in chiffon with a really senget hem in one size too big (who'd have thought cutting chiffon was so tricky?).

And there's more to come....

In The Mind Of A Four Year Old

Small fry can be a morbid little thing, as witnessed by her creative endeavors:





Exhibit A: a snowman with his head dropping off





Exhibit B: another snowman with his head almost dropping off with a snail on the lower left whose features are a little grotesque, specifically, according to small fry, with a big eye and a small eye.

Then again there's the more 'normal' aspect of her imagination:



Purple the cat, as drawn by Daddy with a purple fountain (purple squiggle) and a blue banana, both penned by small fry.




A black and pink crescent moon with the sun next to it. The purple squiggles is not the sun. That's the 'stuff' that the sun is hiding behind. The sun is that faint orange blot, which incidentally, was drawn on the reverse of the paper.

I'd like to see her in a graphic arts class one day; who knows what will spring forth from her psyche?

Hm, maybe I wouldn't like to find out.

Sunday Scribbles

Early on a Sunday morning, small fry waxes creative; her dancing name, her new stuffed cat, Purple and a black fountain grace the sheet of paper.





It still baffles me how a four year-old can be so energetic and wide awake at 7am on a Sunday. By 8am, while I was still dozing on the couch, she'd already had two breakfasts, taken a dump, read her chinese books and made several messes of her bookshelves, and turned the living room rug into a war zone of colouring pens and pencils.

As I write, she's making a mess of the guest room.

Thank goodness for weekdays and playschool.

Sewing Into The New Year

Time spent not on the blog is cobbling and sewing fabric together to make:


1. A pair of leg rests (poufs) for my parents:

Lovely fabric finally back in stock at Ikea

2. A bag for a friend who's just delivered:

Left side

Right side

3. A 'replacement' bag for sis (who's using the one I gave her more than a year ago, day in and day out for work without a single wash since):

This is nicer than even my own bag!

In the works: too many to mention and I have a way of leaving projects unfinished, so will not jinx myself and post only when done.

What It Would Look Like If They Danced

This is one of the various cards that small fry leaves around the house either for us to find or made specifically for us. You can just about make out her name written haphazardly over the card in no order whatsoever. Or rather, in this case, the letters of her name over the card.

I asked her why the letters of her name were not in order and all over the place.

"Oh, I think they're dancing, Mummy. See, they have music! The music is brown."

How do you argue with logic like that?

Year Of The Bunny

Here's a thought: I hope people are not rushing out to buy bunnies since it's the year of the rabbit, knowing the Chinese and their penchant for all things to hail in prosperity.

Here's another thought: what happens to those bunnies when the year of the dragon rolls in?

Nothing bad, I hope.

Here's to all the bunnies out there, especially those at the pet stores.

Shop Till We Groove

My friend Anis is one of the best aunts I know. Not only is she the daytime caretaker of her nephew, Musa, she's every inch the doting aunt and in many instances, I feel as if she treats Musa like her own. All of which make Musa a very lucky three year-old. Of course, if I tell Anis that, she'd just brush aside my comments, modest person that she is.

Anis and Musa recently made a trip down to visit us. On the agenda: shopping for Anis and playdates for Musa. It was a fun-filled and full schedule; three full days of shopping interspersed with romp and play for the small ones.

When we weren't out shopping and looking for play areas for the young ones, we were at home supervising small fry's and Musa's antics. And then there was the cooking.

Musa hit the jackpot staying at our place. It had all the elements he adored: playmate, planes and trains passing by overhead and underfoot, and a mosque next door. Small fry got someone to lord it over and boss around, "Musa, you must drink more water or your lips will be dry", "Musa, don't throw your rice cake out the window or no more rice cake for you!", "Musa, share!", among other admonishments and orders.

While they did spend a fair amount of time in their strollers, the small ones took it in stride, entertaining themselves whichever way they could.

Small fry had so much fun with Musa over the weekend that she refused to go to playschool the next two days. Since she'll be enlisted into the school grind soon enough, I saw no reason to turn the table on her wishes to play.

It was a lovely albeit tiring change of schedule for all of us. When the time came for Anis and Musa to leave, I could see Anis was ready to head back home and hand Musa back to his parents.

Small fry on the other hand, when presented with news that Musa was to leave that day promptly bawled, "I don't want Musa to go home! I don't want Musa to leave. I want him to stay!" repeatedly all the way from Paragon to Somerset 313.

Thankfully when it came time for the actual parting, both toddlers parted without much drama. They were positively civil, doling out hugs and saying goodbye.

I'd say it was a successful venture by Anis to travel with Musa on her own. Even though she appeared harried at times. And she didn't find the shoes she was looking for.

We'll be looking forward to our trip back before CNY and another play date with Musa. In the meantime, here's proof that they had fun even while we shopped:

Too Much Alike

The day before, after repeatedly asking small fry to clean up but not getting a response, I said to her, "If you don't pick up your toys, I'll throw them away then you know!"

Yesterday in the kitchen she said to me, "I throw away the ginger then you know!" and went on to include, "I throw away the onions then you know!"

Hint: she does not like spice and will reject anything too spicy or strongly flavoured, hence the admonishments.

Sigh. Every day she's beginning to sound more and more like me. She scolds like me, talks like me, uses my choice phrases and cuts me off just like I cut her off, "I tell you what, I tell you what," or "No, Mummy. I tell you what, I tell you what," without even a pause when I try to cut in.

She delivers cutting reprimands to her toys, "If you don't eat your food, I smack you then you know!" and hold my face in her hands as she tries to drum some sense into me, "Listen to me, listen to me, Mummy!".

And when I speak a little too softly, "I can't hear what you're saying; I can't understand you," or "Hah?" gets thrown in my face a little too often.

Shudder.

I'm sure when she's a teenager and reading this, it will make her shudder too.

More Than One Way To Mop The Floor

It's the second last day of Jona's two-week holiday. I'm feeling industrious after a bout of vacuuming and have brought out the mop and the bucket. Small fry sees me, hops off her dining chair and trails after me into the bathroom.

"Mummy, are you mopping?"

"Yes."

"Can I help please?"

"No, why don't you sit down? It'll be wet and slippery. You might fall."

"I'll walk slowly. Can I help you mop please?"

"No, I think it's better that you just sit down."

"Please, please can I help you mop?"

Pause.

"Please, please, please Mummy, PLEASE?"

Oh no. Oh nooooooo.

I've seen the way she 'mops' and it's not my idea of mopping. She's had occasion to help Jona mop and it's not pretty. Her idea of mopping is pushing the mop a few paces and dragging it every which way haphazardly. Then dumping it and running off to do something else before coming back to it and continuing. It would take me twice as long to finish the job if she 'helped'. Oh no.

So I grit my teeth and reply.

"OK, you can help me but let me finish first. Then you can mop to your heart's content. OK?"

"OK."

So I finish the round of mopping with small fry trailing after me BEGGING me to let her mop. Please, Mummy, can I mop yet? Please, please, please can I mop? Mummy, can I please mop? By the time I'm done, she can't wait to get the mop off my hands and do her share of the mopping. Of course, that includes dragging it from the bathroom to the guest room and remarking, "Mummy, look! I'm so good at mopping!." Then sitting on the carpet and saying, "Look, Mummy! I can mop sitting down!"

Then lying down and saying, "Now I'm very tired, I can mop lying down."

Soon she takes a break to play with her toys and telling me, "Mummy, I'm leaving the mop here. Don't touch it or take it, ah!" After 10 minutes, she takes the mop and proceeds to 'mop' saying, "You have to walk slowly coz I'm mopping. Be careful, it's very wet."

Next, "I'm flying on the mop, Mummy!", astride her mop broomstick-Bewitched style.

"Are you done yet?"

"No, not yet."

"OK, time to finish up, it's your last round."

"OK, Mummy."

Then she proceeds to heave the mop up and stick it behind me, between my back and my chair, and starts angling it up and down like a see-saw. "Look, Mummy! It can be a see-saw too!"

"OK, we're done!"

"All right. I'm done," and throws it down onto the floor and walks away, her attention focused on something else in the bedroom now.

About five minutes passes as she gets distracted with the curtains in the bedroom. Then she's out again and sees the mop lying on the floor, picks it up and starts 'mopping' again.

"Oh, I'm not done yet. A little bit more coz there's so much stuff on the floor."

The next thing I know, there's a 'plop' and small fry runs into the room. I look behind me and see the mop, broken off the handle. 

Oops. 

I run after her into the room to calm her down and reassure her the world is not going to end because the mop disintegrated. After a fierce round of hugs and a string of "It's OK", she stops hyperventilating. 

After a while, she says "I'm really sorry that I mopped so long, Mummy and then I broke the mop. I'm REALLY SORRY," and hangs her head.

Who could be angry with that? Also, the mop was old and it was time for a replacing. I just didn't know its death would come at the hands of the small fry. At least I can now chuck that old thing of a mop and get a new one. And I have this post to remember the incident by.

Ah, the pleasures of the small things in life.