Bake-A-Cake

Last night, Son No 1 finally got a chance to try baking a cake. He followed the recipe closely (read: scientifically) and put in his best effort. His two brothers watched with rapt attention, while clamouring for their turns to stir the mixture every now and then.


Mummy here guided with theoretical knowledge, explaining why each step was necessary. Son No 1 expressed surprise that mummy had such knowledge (I think his quiet assessment so far was that I was hopeless in the kitchen - a fact that I don't dispute) and I had to tell him that I did home economics in school, and scored a distinction too.

The final product was not very successful - ok, the cake was burnt - but it was due to a faulty oven more than anything else.

After putting the cake mixture into the oven for about 10 minutes, Son No 3 alerted us that there was smoke coming out of the oven. Alarmed, we quickly summoned good old dad. As you can see, dads are real handy when things go wrong!

We thought the burnt cake would go straight into the garbage bin, but Son No 1 and Son No 3 both enthusiastically tried to eat the unburnt parts (see the yellow bits in the picture below) and proclaimed it, well, edible and quite nice. Typically, Son No 2, who is more circumspect and selective over his food, gave an "ew", made a face and declined to follow his brothers' actions.

Well, I will need to call the oven guy to come and take a look at the oven soon. For sure, this will not be the last time we are baking. It can be quite fun.

Toy Story

Since young, Son No 2 has always shown strong attachment to his toys and other belongings and he generally takes very good care of them... well, as good care as any 7-year-old can give.

Every night he sleeps with his most treasured belongings all around him. Topping this list is his perennial favourite, the cuddly jaguar (see right, with a baby tiger and 3 baby jaguar figurines).

Son No 2's fascination with the jaguar began with the cartoon, "Go, Diego, Go". In the cartoon, Diego's pet is a baby jaguar.

This particular soft toy is actually the second jaguar that he owns. He lost the first jaguar at Cheow Yang when he left it behind after his chicken rice lunch one day. Seeing that he is upset by his loss, his Faidu then looked for a replacement jaguar for him in Singapore. Three cheers for Faidu!

I remember for his 6th birthday party last year, I went to some lengths to look for a cake designer who agreed to do the jaguar design (left).

Besides his jaguar, Son No 2 also sleeps with a box full of his precious things. These are the things in the box (from left, in the picture above):

• a multi-coloured pen which is a gift from his teacher, Ms Lee
• the gold medal which he won for his race during his Sports Day
• a small picture which he drew and coloured in Singapore
• his Game Boy with his favourite game, Pokemon
• his cow-shaped piggy bank from Hong Leong Bank

In another smaller box, he keeps the tiny figurine of Yoda (right) which apparently can protect him with his light sabre at night.

Honestly, if I allowed it, Son No 2 would have even more things on the bed at night.

As it is, he sometimes furtively hides some other toys under his blanket before he sleeps. I got wiser and now do spot checks.

Well, there must be a stop somewhere. He already has little space to sleep because he has 3 bolsters. Yes, 2 adult-sized and 1 medium-sized bolsters. He likes his bolsters and all his toys around him when he sleeps because he then feels warm and cosy and protected.

Hmm... just like when it was in his mother's womb, ya? :)

Changes To Primary School

Interestingly, both Singapore and Malaysia chose to announce changes to the primary school education system on the same day.

But what I find incomprehensible is that Malaysia opted to re-format their UPSR, the primary school leaving exam, to include school-based assessments, while Singapore did not. Singapore instead chose to re-focus and re-balance its curriculum to incorporate more life skills, to aim for single-session schools and to have an all-graduate primary teaching force by 2015. But there is no mention of any changes to the PSLE.

Why I find this incongruous is that Singapore is infinitely more capable to implement changes to the examination format. They have the skilled teachers, the relative homogeneity of students and a culture that champions systematic approach, transparency and objectivity. Malaysia does not have any of these - but it has the derring-do (some may call it foolhardiness).

I have been advocating changes to the Singapore's PSLE for years. To reduce a student's total ability to a single score which will determine the child's progress into the next stage of life is draconian. This is the reason why the school system in Singapore is examination-oriented. Parents have little choice if they want their children to survive the school system here.

At this stage when Singapore's MOE recognises the shortcomings of its education system as being too examination-oriented, I am surprised that nothing is done to the PSLE format. Incorporating all the other changes is good, but it is not enough. Parents will not be convinced to support the new programme if the PSLE remains a Damocles sword hanging over their heads. I can only see more tuition centers fluorishing as schools aim to provide that well-rounded education which is not appreciated by most parents. There will be more complaints from parents about schools not doing enough while the teachers are already tearing their hair out and walking the tight rope to meet the demands of MOE. It's a classic case of mismatched expectations. Ultimately, it's the students who will end up more stressed than ever.

For once, Singapore should take a leaf out of Malaysia's books and, as they say, just do it. Slaughter the sacred cow once and for all.

As for Malaysia, I do not think I need to comment on anything right now. I dare not think how many U-turns this new policy will have before we see anything happening. However, if you were to ask me, I would say, don't do anything to the UPSR format. Malaysia is just not ready to do anything fancy with the education system. It cannot think it can leapfrog ahead of others. Things are not so simple. Get the basics right first. Err.. by the way, are they going ahead with the teaching of Math and Science in English or are they reverting to Bahasa Malaysia?

Driving Madness

Yesterday, I had three close shaves - and it is just all in a day's work.

The first near-accident involved a speed demon coming from behind as I signalled to filter left. I could see the multi-coloured speedster from afar in my rear view mirror. The next second, it was right behind me and intending to overtake me from the left as well. In a split second, I stopped filtering left and let him go.

A last-minute lane-changer almost caused the next near-accident. The pick-up cut into my lane suddenly, leaving me no choice but to slow down immediately. The traffic was heavy and I knew there were motorcycles all around me. Luckily, the motorcycle behind me managed to stop in time without losing his balance.

The third near-accident was the best of all. I was in a long queue in a traffic light junction and when the traffic light turned green, the cars ahead of me started to move off slowly (because cars from the next lane kept cutting into the queue). I saw the green lights started blinking (yes, there's such a thing here), then turned amber and finally, the lights turned red on the car in front of me. Is the car going to beat the red light? Yes! Then it was my turn. The lights were already red for a while. I made the instantaneous decision to beat the red light as well. Luckily I did. Because the car behind me followed closely and would have slammed into my car if I had hesitated. He had full intention of beating the red light.

Driving here is a daily menace. Careful driving or defensive driving or whatever you may want to call it may save you only in some instances but there are many occasions when it is really a matter of bad fortune. There are thousands of accidents everyday. Whenever I see one, especially a fresh accident, at the roadside, I would say a quick prayer - because I believe if I was at that spot a fraction earlier, it could have been me in the accident. That's why it's called an accident - and not planned collision.

This is not the last time I am going to blog about driving. There's a lot of frustrations all bottled up inside, you see. It is stressful. But like a fearless gladiator (cheh!), I will be out on the road again today. And many days thereafter. Say a quick prayer for me?

Calling Tooth Fairy!

Today is a happy day for Son No 2. One of his baby teeth finally fell off!

It has been a long and agonizing wait for Son No 2. This particular lower incisor has been shaky for a while. I was going to pull it out tonight (yes, me!) But in school today, while Son No 2 was playing, one of his friends accidentally elbowed him and the tooth fell out.

Son No 2 said there was only a little blood and he chose to ignore it. He proudly showed his tooth to his friends who were suitably impressed!

Son No 2 knows about the tooth fairy - he learnt about its existence from TV. He says he's going to put his tooth under his pillow tonight to earn some money. Ya, the tooth fairy knows what to do :)

Weddings 101

My three sons' cousin is getting married.

Yesterday, I mentioned to Son No 1 that his cousin would be back from Singapore next week to have her wedding photographs taken.

"I thought she is already married."

"Well, ya, she is registered. But she's going to the studio to take the wedding pictures."

"Why?"

"Hmm... It's once in a lifetime and they want to remember the occasion. In fact, she will be having 4 hours of outdoor shoot and 4 hours in the studio."

"Whhhhaaattt? Why so long?"

[Note: Son No 1 finds taking photographs a chore.]

"Ya, they will be taking maybe about 100 photos, so that they can choose, maybe 40? to put in their album. Next time, I'm sure your bride will want to do the same!"

"No way, we can take one photo.... she can take the rest by herself!"

Haha, that's the 12-year old male species talking. What a contrast - I remember when my girlfriends and I were 10 years old, we were already designing wedding gowns for our BIG day!

Wait til he hears that the wedding reception will be held in May next year. He would be thinking, when is this thing ever going to end?!!!

Explaining Race Relations

Issues on race relations are not something that can be avoided in Malaysia. Amidst the deepening racial fissures surfacing across the country, I believe I have reasons to be concerned how this will affect the upbringing of my three sons, particularly Son No 1.

I have noticed in passing that Son No 1 seems to have developed a mild disdain for a certain race. As usual, that throws me into a reflective mode. I wonder whether we, as his parents, have a role to play in his development in that direction. There have been occasions when my hubby and I would discuss events which troubled us, like the recent ISA arrests which were clearly racially-biased. And in the past, we would have discussed the money politics, the affirmative action policies and even the day-to-day management of the country which did not put the bumiputras in a flattering light. These were conversations that Son No 1 might have overheard and from where he might have drawn certain conclusions.

These national events might seem distant to a 12-year-old, but Son No 1 is hardly untouched by racial concerns in his own life. I reckon Son No 1's first direct encounter with racial issues happened some time last year when his school banned all home food from the school grounds to keep the school environment totally halal. The school had earlier caught some non-muslim students eating pork in the school canteen and deemed the act disrespectful to the muslim community. The school canteen had a halal kitchen but the pork in question was brought from the students' own homes for their own consumption. It is not like the Muslims were forced to partake in the non-halal food. I see nothing wrong in sharing that common space - and I let my view be known. As a result of the ban, Son No 1 could not even bring sandwiches from home. Nope, not even jam or peanut butter sandwich. Not even home-baked cakes or cookies. These are only allowed if they are manufactured commercially, and hence presumably have the halal certification, and the food is still in the original packaging. To me, the school has carried it too far.

This whole incident may not seem a serious matter by itself but the principle behind it encapsulates the basis of race relations in the country. In essence, non-bumis must at all times be racially-sensitive, but this rule does not apply to the bumis. The recent ISA arrests of the Chinese reporter and the Chinese MP in Malaysia, while the bumi instigators got away lightly, are clear examples of this one-sided principle.

Now, it is important to me that Son No 1 does not grow up with a coloured view of the world. But it is also important that he is aware of the state of affairs.

I knew what I needed to do. Yesterday, I had a chance to talk to Son No 1 about my concerns and explain to him that there are really two levels of race relations. At the State level, including all top-down directives, race relations are often dictated by a few and the policies and sentiments could be deeply prejudiced, racially- and politically-motivated and sometimes, plain senseless. It is this level of racial prejudice and injustice that we need to counter.

But at another level, in our daily interactions, we are talking about fellow humans who may be very similar to us in our walk through life, though they belong to a different race. At this level, we may find that we can actually be good friends with people from other races. They are fundamentally no different from you and me - in Michael Jackson's words, neither black nor white.

I don't know if I have succeeded but I hope I managed to get my message through.

Back-At-Work Mom

Last weekend, I was back at work. I had classes at the University on both Saturday and Sunday. My two younger sons were, as usual, thrilled to see me dress up and go to work. They have often asked me why am I not working - I think in their minds, all adults need to work. At one point when I didn't seem to be holding any job, they asked me what would I like to be when I grow up! I said I wanted to be a mother but they took it as a non-answer.

Anyway, I enjoyed my classes immensely as usual. Besides the once-a-month face-to-face tutorial, my students and I "meet" regularly on the on-line learning management system, where forums and chatrooms are available and announcements can be made, assignments submitted. My students also regularly drop me emails for various reasons. This line of work suits my present lifestyle to a "T" as it is home-based and flexible, at the same time keeping my grey cells working and my resume updated.

That should be enough reward by itself, but this morning, as I was checking my mailbox, I was pleasantly surprised to receive 3 emails which were non-routine. What I normally get are emails asking me course-related questions or those seeking approval to extend assignment deadlines. These 3 emails however were different.

Two of the emails were from my students, telling me they have enjoyed my class and how they have found me to be a source of inspiration. This is unusual because it is not Teacher's Day and we are only in the middle of term. That they took the trouble to compose such an email message is really something.

All my students are working adults and more than a third of them are my contemporaries or older than me. Many of them have missed out on a chance to further their education when they were younger and have now found the courage to go back to school. They need lots of encouragement and all the help they can get to pursue a part-time business degree course.

The third email was also kind of surprising. It did not come from any of my students. It came from a student who is taking the same course under another study center in Ipoh and he asked me a course-related question. Well, they do say that imitation is the best form of flattery, and if I were to draw a parallel, I would say that having a student from another class asking you a question is also a form of flattery! But this may require careful handling - turf-war and all that :)

Anyway, as in any job, there are unpleasant aspects and for this job, it is the grading of assignments. Right now, I have scores of assignments waiting for me to grade. Sigh, it's going to be a laborious week ahead.

The Best Red Indian Dancer

Today, Son No 3 came home with the script for Peter Pan - I knew that his class was putting up this play for the school concert in November. Son No 3 was really excited - he told me he needed to learn the parts for John (one of the three children in the family). I was surprised because all along, he was in the Red Indian dance, one of the segments in the play. He did not have a speaking part.

The teacher left a message with Son No 3 for me to call her which I did as soon as I reached home. She told me that the part of John was actually given to Wayan (yes, the same Wayan that I have written about earlier). However, as they were worried that Wayan might not turn up, they needed a back-up. If Wayan did turn up, Son No 3 would continue to perform the Red Indian dance.

I thought about it. I did not want to put Son No 3 through all this - learn all the lines and then not be in the play. I honestly do not mind if it was for a "real" back-up function. But knowing the school situation intimately, I find the choice of Wayan to play one of the 7 speaking roles is really questionable. One might say it is not fair to speculate but come on, we are not living in la-la land. No, even at pre-school level, there are these unseen forces that are at play.

I do not know who made the decision to let Wayan have a speaking part and I don't care. If the teacher is worried, I am not surprised at all. But don't throw the ball at my court. I am not going to catch it.

I have since told the teacher that I will not be coaching Son No 3 on the lines since he will not be in the play (ya, the other thing is - I was supposed to coach him at home. I pay the exorbitant school fees and end up doing the work).

I have also explained to Son No 3, not in so many words, but he understands that Wayan is the one who is going to play John. No problem with him. Son No 3 is quite happy to remain in the Red Indian dance. So is Mummy.

In The Beginning

Do I say it often enough? That I consider my three sons a real blessing? This is particularly so because at one point in time, I thought my hubby and I were going to be childless.

Rewind to 1992. After one blissful year of marriage, my hubby and I thought it was time to try for a baby. Easier said than done. We tried for six months or so and nothing happened. We began consultations with my gynae and during the subsequent two years, we tried everything to conceive, well, almost everything, at our disposal, save IVF.

A battery of tests had revealed that all was fine with both our reproductive systems. Nevertheless, the gynae persuaded me to have a laporoscopy done to clean up my tubes, take ovulation pills and chart my basal body temperature (BMT) - that meant taking my body temperature every morning at the point of waking up and recording it on a piece of graph paper. And every month, my temperature chart would show that characteristic dip about 10 days after ovulation. That dip showed the failure of conception and mirrored our emotions. This meant we needed to go through the hope-and-dash cycle for another month.

We even took a “baby-making” holiday to the States because many of our colleagues then conceived their babies overseas when they were away from their stressful jobs. But all to no avail. At the verge of giving up, a mini miracle happened. One morning my temperature chart failed to show that hope-shattering dip. Our hopes soared and like they say, the rest was history. We were finally rewarded for our faith with our firstborn son.

We thought our second child would be smooth-sailing thereafter but we were wrong. The same agony and wait. Month after month, year after year. The same consultations with the gynae and the same BMT chart routine.

Then one day, my mom managed to get hold of a recipe for a traditional chinese medicine brew that was supposed to strengthen the chi or energy in the lower half of the female body. I took three brews of the chinese medicine and at the same time, watched my diet to avoid "cooling" food. Believe it or not, this proved to be a successful two-pronged formula that worked - Son No 2 was finally conceived. He is five years younger than his elder brother.

We were in a way nonchalant after the second child. Heck, we were older now and our fertility must be even lower. We were busy with two children, thus family planning was far from our minds. But there were unseen forces that worked in mysterious ways. Son No 3 was born a mere 22 months after my second son.

So that’s the story of my three sons. I hope it is a story of hope for those who are trying to have a baby. Children are really little miracles. They are worth waiting for.

Battle With Mosquitoes

Yesterday, Son No 3 told me that he wanted a frog for his pet.

Why, I asked, taken by surprise.

He told me in a huff, "... because frogs eat mosquitoes!"

That about describes the deep enmity that my Son No 3 feels towards mosquitoes.

Son No 3 is a magnet for mosquitoes. He sleeps in the same bedroom as Son No 2 but he is the one who ends up with all the mosquito bites. When we go to the playground, I will make sure that he is drenched in anti-mosquito spray, but he will still end up with mosquito bites. The mosquitoes here, I am convinced, are already immuned to whatever means that man has ever thought up of to obliterate their presence.

In our house, there is a wide array of anti-mosquito devices. We have tried all types of devices that are offered in this enterprising market. Such devices claim to do some of the following:

• attract them by light and CO2, then trap them
• send them to death by electroculation
• repel them through high frequency pitch
• repel and destroy them through chemical means.

None works all the time and none works in totality. The last resort is really the barrier method - seal the house with mosquito netting. That would be quite drastic and might not be foolproof either.

Meanwhile, I have stipulated that Son No 3 must wear his long pyjamas pants at all times when he is at home. At first, he was happy about it, but later he complained that the mosquitoes would then go after his feet. So now he can wear socks in the house if he chooses to. Poor thing.

It's not only in the house that Son No 3 has the mosquito problem. There was one afternoon when he cried all the way in the car coming home from school. His legs were itchy from mosquito bites in school and he must have been feeling very frustrated. However, as it was the "tantrum" type of cry, I chose to ignore him. Though I sympathised with him, he must learn to manage his frustration and have better control of himself. No choice.

And he has learnt. That's why his protest is now more mature and a matter-of-fact. I'm referring to his comment about getting a frog for a pet, of course!

Sigh! When will this battle with mosquitoes end?

Happy Child

Son No 3 came back from school today, happy as a lark. He had a birthday gift pack from his friend, Syaza. The goodies included a deflated balloon, a clappity-clack, a mini-trumpet, a mini-Toblerone bar and other titbits.

It's amazing how a single deflated balloon can generate so much fun. Son No 3 blew it and then let the air go pointing at himself, laughing heartily while enjoying the wind. I just had to capture this happy moment. It's moments like these that make staying at home worthwhile.


I managed to get Son No 3's class name list and am recording the names of his friends here. His class is truly multi-racial. Wonder how many of them he will remember when he is older!

Class: White Roses 2
Teacher: Teacher Rita

Boys: Hissan, Eugene, Tanishq, Tristan, Wayan, Michael, Matthew, Sean, JW

Girls: Navneet, Tania, Dania, Dania Balqees, Syaza, Kathy, Kirandeep, Eiman, Mary Rose, Kareena, Sumaya

Mooncake Festival

It's Mooncake Festival and it's raining. Shucks! No walking round the grounds carrying lanterns, no gazing at the moon.

But that did not stop my three sons from having a fun time. They have switched off all the lights in the house and are now playing hide-and-seek, aided only by the blinking lights from the electronic lanterns, courtesy of Auntie Mrs Low. The house is resonating with laughter as I type this .... Such a joyful sound! I suppose this is the modern way of celebrating mooncake festival :)

Chicken Soup For Moms

Last night, I started reading Chicken Soup For The Mother And Son Soul.

I am not ashamed to say that my eyes were brimming with tears many times as I read the "heartwarming stories that celebrate the lifelong bond", so says the blurb. Let's not be cynical and doubt who are these ghost writers - they have served their purpose. And what a good purpose it was. My soul is completely nourished.

My gosh, what was I thinking about when I contemplated only on the stress that a family holiday might bring? Have I forgotten what joy our children can bring into our lives? After all, it is not that many holidays that we can have together as a family where we can still enjoy their unbridled enthusiasm and wide-eyed innocence.

Soon enough, they will be living their own lives, away from home, especially Son No 1. Soon enough, there will come a time when I walk into their bedrooms and will be greeted by silence and neatly made-up beds, books untouched and bare wardrobes. No dirty laundry in a corner, no bags strewn all over the room.

And after that, there will come a day when I will look into a young woman's eyes behind her veil, hold her hand in mine, and say, "This is my son. Take good care of him."

Ya, that last paragraph is from Chicken Soup.

Anyway, I am now energized and really motivated to plan for an overseas holiday. It will be the best holidays of our lives.

Mission Grow

Last week, we met up with some old friends from Singapore. As expected, when they saw our boys, they expressed their surprise that Son No 3 was taller and bigger than Son No 2, despite their two-year age difference.

This is not the first time, nor will it be the last, that the two younger boys face such comments. They ought to be used to it by now but I do wonder what psychological impact this might have on the two boys. Especially Son No 2.

Son No 2 is the shortest pupil in his class. It does not seem to bother him very much as he gets to be right in front when they are lining up for class. Nevertheless, he wants to grow. One of his chief motivations is that he wants to be at least the same height as his younger brother. The other is that he wants to be able to sit in the front seat of the car, like his elder brother.

Recently, this motivation to grow has intensified. He actively asks me the food group of every piece of morsel that goes into his mouth. He knows that some food are energy food, some keeps him healthy, some helps him to move his bowels and some helps him to grow. He also knows that some food does nothing but cause him to lose his hair but that does not stop him from chomping the junk food. I guess losing hair is not a worrisome prospect for a 7-year-old.

Son No 2 has been eating a lot of fish, chicken and other meat because they are grow food. Now, after a few weeks of active eating, he is asking me why he is still not growing. It is enough to break your heart.

I have always been telling him (and the others) that every child is different. I suppose I have to do a better job - as they grow, the desire to blend in will also grow. It is only natural.

Snippets

The Worm And The Egg

Out of the blue, Son No 2 said to me with a somewhat self-important air, "I know how you got a baby. Daddy’s worm went to your egg and a baby is formed!"

(Pause) "But how did the worm get into your tummy?!!”

The Backstage Of The Shopping Center

Son No 2 likes to follow me when I do my grocery shopping at Carrefour, Mid Valley. I tend to time my trips there after sending Son No 3 to his kindergarten. That means we reach the shopping center before the shops open at 9 am.

To Son No 2, it is exciting to see the shopkeepers getting ready to open their shops, like mopping the floor, dusting or getting ready the goods for display. I suppose it is like visiting the backstage before a concert.

True Bred and Learner Malaysians

Son No 3 may be born in Singapore but he is truly bred here. He started his pre-school here when he was four and has never sung the Singapore national anthem. This picture shows the collage of the Malaysian flag that he made in school just before the National Day.

Son No 2 spent two years in Singapore pre-school but he does not remember much about Singapore. Nowadays, he likes to sing all those patriotic Malaysian songs at the top of his voice at home. He doesn't understand the Malay lyrics, I am sure, but that does not stop him because they sing those songs in school every other day.

Son No 1 has spent more time in Singapore than in Malaysia. Recently, I noticed that he has named Kuala Lumpur as his hometown in his Facebook account. That is a good sign that he is settling down.

As for me, I am still reading the Straits Times faithfully, participating vociferously in the forum pages and discussion boards. Issues that affect Singapore still concern me. Nevertheless, when I visit Singapore on holidays, I no longer feel like I am going home. The reverse is true now. I suppose home is where the heart is.

Don't Sweat The Small Stuff

Lest people think that my children are angels, I can state categorically that they are not. They are humans :) I realise that my posts here tend to focus on the positives and it is timely to provide some balance here. So, today I am going to write about those niggling things that they do that can get on one's nerves.

As you read, especially those who know my three sons well, you might think that, aiyah, what's the big deal. I agree it's no big deal. It's just that when it happens frequently, well, it does test your patience.

Son No 1 is a son that any mother can be proud of. But when it comes to time management, there's much to improve. He knows we are going out and we tell him repeatedly we are leaving at 10:45am, and at 10:45am, he's still not dressed. Or he has not brushed him teeth. Or, worse, he has to finish his mission, referring of course to some computer game that he is playing. We all know this bad habit of his and we have highlighted to him that it is not good to have people waiting for him. Sometimes, he tries. But at other times he is too dreamy, gets carried away by what he is doing, or simply overestimates the speed at which he can accomplish tasks like bathing. There's still much to work on.

With Son No 2, he has this bad habit of touching everything that he sees. We know babies learn by sensorial exploration but Son No 2 is 7 years old. Walking across the carpark, he would drag his forefinger along the dirty dusty cars, nonchalantly studying the trace that he leaves behind. In the bakery, he would feel the buns on display with his fingers. In the supermarket, he would poke at the fruits and fish. And how do you think this frazzled mom would react? I know his actions are probably not deliberate, to some extent, it's instinctive, but it's time he learns to have better control of his habits.

Some children are squealers, others are not. Son No 3 belongs to the former category. When he gets excited, like in a game of catching, he would squeal at the highest pitch possible at the top of his voice. This is not an age-related issue because in a similar situation, at the same age, Son No 2 would just be giggling and laughing while Son No 1 would just beam happily. Son No 3's squeals are not pleasing to the ear. And I do get annoyed. I can't help it.

I know we are not supposed to sweat the small stuff (I have read the book) and I know what I have illustrated above is smaller than small, punier than puny. It's just that I am this imperfect human too. Nevertheless, I will try my best to "become more patient" (rule #13), "imagine the people in your life as tiny infants" (rule #27), "see the innocence" (rule #36), "breathe before you speak" (rule #55) and "count to ten" (rule #63).

Palin, The Wrong Role Model

My hubby watched me rave about Hillary Clinton early this year and now rant at Sarah Palin at every opportunity. I can almost read his mind: what does the American Elections 2008 have to do with ordinary citizens, especially a stay-at-home mom, in this part of the world? Ah, men just don't get it. I will reveal the connection later.

It is obvious that Hillary Clinton and Palin are both women, going after high profile jobs. Why do I support one and not the other? Particularly, why am I so antagonistic towards Sarah? Three reasons:

1. As a thinking person, I do not support her beliefs and policies.
2. As a woman, I think her nomination is a setback for feminists.
3. As a mother, I think she is not a good role model for our daughters.

I shall focus on point no 3 here. Don't think I am nuts, I know I have no daughters. But that does not mean I am not concerned with how our (as in humankind) daughters are raised in this modern world. These daughters will be the future wives of my sons and mothers of my grandchildren. I need to know that they are getting the right message on what defines a woman. [Ah, see the connection now?]

Well, it's not that I will become this dominating mom-in-law. But coming back to my point on Sarah Palin, she is not going to be the right role model for our daughters. She is signalling that
it is alright to relegate the family and the role of the mother to the background. She is going to endorse that children are no longer the most important happening in a mother's life.

Don't get me wrong, I am not against working women. I have always been pro-choice, that is, it is the woman's choice to work and continue to take care of the family, or to stay at home to take care of the family.

But whatever it is, the family, especially a young family, must figure prominently in a woman's life. Stay at home dads are great, but there are things that a man just cannot do. They are not made that way.

Consider this: 3 days before the due date of her youngest child, Palin flew to Texas to give a voluntary speech. To me, it was a reckless decision that unnecessarily endangered her unborn's life. During her speech, her water bag broke but she was cool about it and she continued with her speech. She then flew back all the way to Alaska to give birth.

Three days after the birth, she was back at work. Three days! Was the birth a non-event? She did not take maternity leave. Even Tony Blair took longer paternity leave. Palin carried her blackberry and breastpump with her. At least, the baby should be grateful that he can enjoy the mother's milk, although the mother is not present.

I repeat, I am not against working moms. Heck, I was one myself for a long time. I know how difficult it is to hold on to two full-time jobs. And I respect those who can do both jobs well. But this woman places career firmly and way, way ahead of her family. Her newborn is only 4 months old and has Down Syndrome. What does that say about this woman? Is this the type of role model that we want for our daughters?

Hillary Clinton, on the other hand, is the role model for our daughters. Witness her close relationship with Chelsea and the fine woman Chelsea has turned out to be. Look at Hillary's brilliant intelligence, her empathy for the working class, her support for her husband when he was in the White House and recently, her magnanimity in speaking up for Obama. In spite of adversities, Hillary has shown tremendous strength of character. To me, Hillary Clinton is truly admirable. She is the one our daughters should emulate.

As to points number 1 and 2 on why I will not support Palin, I will save that for another forum.

Not Another Busman's Holiday

When the idea of an overseas holiday during the Christmas break was tossed over the weekend, my reaction was muted. It was most unlike me. I am worried. I think I may be suffering from burnt-out.

The way I see it, an overseas holiday is a break for the maid. Let me be the maid.

The idea of a holiday was actually raised by me. It would be between winter in the north and summer in the south. Either way, the children would love it. The next question then is free-and-easy or tour group?

A free-and-easy holiday with four demanding males will mean meticulous planning in advance and perfect execution, with no opportunities for replay. It is hardly free and easy for the planner. We all have different needs and high expectations. If anything goes awry, as things are likely to in a trip, four fingers would point this way. I will be the most stressed up person on the trip. I already am, just thinking about it. Can anyone empathise with this feeling? The strange thing is, before this, I used to love organizing trips. Do we need a psycho-analyst here?

I thought a possible compromise would be joining a tour group. Now, I have never been a fan of tour groups. It's correct that you get herded around like sheep and your time is not your own. But what's so bad about that? It would be a hassle-free holiday. There will be no quibbling over the programme, no need to look at maps and the whole family will be either singing their praises at the tour agency or throwing brickbats. But at least, the family is one in spirit.

In the ideal world, parents should take at least two holidays a year, one holiday by themselves and the other a family holiday. That's what all the experts would advise. But things do not always work out so satisfactorily. Even one holiday is difficult to manage sometimes. This is the real world.

The Autumn Term

Two weeks have passed since Son No 1 started his new academic year. This first term is called the Autumn Term, as the school follows the British calendar. Son No 1 eased back into his school routine effortlessly. He is taking the same subjects, many of his teachers remain the same and he is now used to the way the school is run.

There have been some movement of students in his class - some of his classmates have moved to another school, others have been transferred to another class. But I supposed the important thing to Son No 1 is that his group of close friends have remained intact.

Ethan, Ian, Kevin and Thomas all come from similar upper middle-class background and I have, on separate occasions, met up with all their mothers. Generally, the boys are well-behaved (at least in front of their mothers), are competitive in class (in a good way) and enjoy strong family support. I am glad that Son No 1 has found this group of friends. After all, friends made in school can last a lifetime.

This year, Son No 1 will be studying some interesting topics. I glanced through some of his textbooks - for history, he will be studying British History from the period mid 1500 to 1800. That means he will be learning about people like King Henry VIII, Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth 1. Those were colourful characters living in tumultous times and oh, so interesting! I have a good mind to borrow his textbook and read. The sad thing, on the other hand, is that he will not be exposed much to Asian history.

For Literature, he will be doing As You Like It this year. Last year, he did The Merchant Of Venice and I thought that was quite a good introduction to Shakespeare. For Math, they have started on Indices and for Science, they are exploring the Digestive System.

I will be adopting a hands-off approach this year as far as his studies are concerned. He should be old enough to learn to manage things by himself. Nevertheless, I like to find out what they are studying in school and how the teachers teach the topics. I then try to supplement his learning in an informal setting, like in the car on our way home. Well, you just can't take the teacher out of me :)

Son No 1 has just got his blue belt in taekwando. He was graded during the holidays. Now that he is more advanced, I can see that he looks forward to his TKD training every week. This year, he is also taking up another sport besides tennis. Badminton is his choice and no surprise there, judging from the badminton fever across the nation that was sparked by Lee Chong Wei's silver medal at the Beijing Olympics.

All in all, I must say it has been a good start to a new year.

September Rain

It's raining again. The past few days, KL has been the recipient of bountiful rain, though in this valley, that's not always good news. Rivers, canals and drains are going the way of the burgeoning budget deficit, sudden downpour causing flashfloods in the city.

This is also the month of Ramadan, the fasting month in the Muslim calendar. Offices close early and Muslim staff make a beeline for their suburban homes in one mad throng every evening, starting from around 4pm.

KL is stressed to the limit. Gridlock has taken on a new shade of meaning on KL roads. Cars are literally locked in a grid, not moving as yellow boxes are jammed and vehicles are trapped. Traffic police are always a welcomed sight to help direct traffic - but they too pack up and leave at 6:30pm sharp. It is a job after all. They also need to rush home to buka puasa, or "break fast".

We, the motorists, have it real bad. I have been trapped in a vehicle for two hours just trying to get out of KL. And if you compare notes, that is not the worse that can happen.

My three sons have been acclimatised to our traffic conditions. They know that if it rains, mommy is likely to be late picking them up due to traffic jams. They have been reassured, time and again, that there is no need to panic. Mummy WILL come.

Nevertheless, I have been leaving earlier from the house these days in anticipation of the jams. It does mean more travelling time on the road and a daily test of patience. But, never mind, patience is a virtue after all. Just listen to the i-pod-lor and think about the next blog post to write!

American Idol in Washington

In case you haven't heard, this is the latest reality show to grip America. American Idol in Washington boasts the biggest prize of all - the power to rule the world, literally.

The preliminaries are over, we are down to the last pair of contestants. On one side, you have the Obama-Biden pair and on the other, the McCain-Palin pair. Both pairs are remarkably similar -marrying experience with star quality.

Obama and Palin compete neck and neck on style, glamour, looks and a compelling story to boot. Both tote their families like an honourable badge. In true American Idol tradition, the public has been feted with heartwarming images of their supportive families amidst a roaring home crowd.

Biden and McCain are the boring old horses. But somebody needs to be seen doing the work.

Simon Cowell's days are numbered. Instead of his scathing remarks, we now have members of the Associated Press to provide the independent analysis. But they are unlikely to sway opinions, anyway. The public will still vote with their hearts and starry-eyes. Idol is not looking for substance, it has always been about popular appeal.

Voting in in November. To reward the public for their long and undying support, voting is free! But no sms-please. You need to go to some registration booth. More details later.

One thing is for sure. In November, after the victory speech, the winners will join hands and sing a rousing "Times of our Lives" on national TV.

Don't forget to tune in for future episodes of American Idol in Washington. And good luck to the contestants!

Science Lessons In The Car

I often wonder how less educated moms cope. No, this is not an egoistic statement. I am contantly bombarded by questions by my three sons. And many a time, I have to terminate further questioning with "Life's like that, dear" as the last resort.

Son No 3 and I had another one of those conversations today in the car, where most of our conversations take place. I thought I should record it quickly before I forget.

The night before, Son No 2 was heard urging Son No 3, in his best elder brother voice, not to scratch the mosquito scars on his legs because the scars would bleed and if he lost too much blood, he would die. Son No 3 dismissed it with a "No-la", but evidently he was uncomfortable with the thought.

Just now, when Son No 3 and I were alone in the car, he sought confirmation and reassurance from me.

"Is it true that if we have no more blood, we will die?"
"Yes."
"Why is blood so important?"
"Well, blood brings food and oxygen to all parts of the body so that they remain healthy and can grow."
"What? Blood can bring food?"
"Oh, not the whole piece of food, but the good things that we get from the food we eat."
"What is oxygen?"
"Oxygen is found in the air that we breath. Without oxygen, we can die."

"Why is there no oxygen in outer space?"
"Err... I don't know. Only Earth has oxygen."

"How do we make oxygen?"
[Chemical equations involving the manufacture of oxygen flashed across my mind. No, don't be silly. Of course, that's not what he is asking.]
"There are many ways to make oxygen but on Earth, we get most of our oxygen from plants."
"How do plants make oxygen?"
"When plants make food, they make oxygen as well. That's why plants are very important."
"I see, now I know why there is no oxygen in outer space!"

I stopped to think for a while. Somehow, he has connected the mental images of the dark and barren outer space, with no trees, with the lack of oxygen and now in a convoluted way, he thinks he has found the answer to his original question on why there is no oxygen in outer space. Because there are no trees there! Voila! The thinking process is really interesting.

But that's not the end of it.

"Can oxygen pass through walls?"
"Hmm... no, I don't think so. Why do you ask?"
"We are now in the car. How can we get oxygen?"
"Oh, through the air-cond. But if the air-cond is off and the windows are not wound down, then we will not have enough oxygen and we can die."
"How long?"
"What do you mean?"
"How long before we die?"
"Hmm... I don't know. Maybe two or three hours..."
"Oh, so long." He was relieved.

Ya, that's my life. Wiki-mom to a 5-year-old. Wait till you hear about the questions I get on evolution versus creationism. But that's another story for another day :)

Teachers' Day

Teachers' Day in Singapore has come and gone. Over here in KL, Teachers' Day is not celebrated on September 1st, so the date slipped my mind.

Until I started receiving sms-es from Singapore.

Some of my ex-students have not forgotten me. I was touched.

There are some students whom you teach, and you teach them well, and they go on to score A's, enter good JCs/polytechnics and university. And as their teacher, you feel happy for them.

And then there are some students whom you know you have made a difference to their lives. These are normally the troubled students - social misfits, delinquents or academically-stressed. A teacher cannot "save" all of them. But when a connection is made, and the teacher is able to do something for them, the impact on their lives is forever.

That's why I find teaching so rewarding.

Two of the sms-es came from two students whom I know we had that special connection. They used to have difficulty adjusting to the social environment and had no friends. One of them was a "flame" victim who was scalded real bad. Her only fault was that her appearance was not pleasing to her tormentors. The other was a quiet girl from mainland China who was too hardworking for her own good. Now, although I was not very effective in counselling those really naughty students, I could relate very well to those students who are deemed outcasts. By giving them back their confidence to face the world, a significant difference can be made.

And hearing from these two students on what they are doing with their lives now, I feel truly gratified.

I may not have saved all the starfish, but I did manage to save some.