Another Vacation, Another Year

Son No 1's year-end vacation officially started yesterday. But unofficially, his vacation has already started last Monday when he finished his last exam paper. During this past one week, he brought his MacBook to school almost everyday and played on-line computer games (his whole school is wired) because there were no lessons.

When Son No 1 came home from school each day, he quickly adopted a new regime. He would grab a bite (snacks or instant noodles with a mug of hot tea), then check msn, thereafter go through our DVD collection to choose 2 movies to watch. Then he'd disappear into his room to watch the movies on his MacBook - back-to-back - until dinner time. After dinner, it is on-line games and more msn. How's that for a languid lifestyle?

So, what movies has he been watching?

Monday - Mamma Mia, The Devil Wears Prada
Tuesday - Ocean's Eleven, Nim's Island (aborted, too boring)
Wednesday - The Sentinel, The Pianist
Thursday - Three Kingdoms - Resurrection Of The Dragon (mandarin), Bourne Ultimatum
Friday - The Godfather Part 1 (aborted, too much talking), Escape From Huang Shi (mandarin)

And you'd thought he was watching cartoons and slapstick comedies???

Actually, it's not a bad idea to have a movie binge. I wish I had that option when I was a student. In a way, I envy him because there are so many good movies that Son No 1 has yet to discover. And he has all the time in the world to discover those gems.

Looking at his choice of movies (I only helped him choose one and that is The Pianist, which we watched together - for me, the second time, for him, the first time - and I was glad to note that he was thoroughly engrossed in the Holocaust tale), I can't help but think of the Abba hit, Slipping Through My Fingers. My firstborn, whose height is now above my ear, has started showing that absent-minded smile....

Au Revoir, White Roses 2

Today is Son No 3's last day at his pre-school for 2008. Next year, he will be promoted to Irises, the class for 6-year-old children.

It was a nice touch when each pupil was presented with a CD-Rom on the last day of school. The CD-Rom contains 267 images of all the key activities that they did the whole year. It is like a year-book. Smart marketing?!

Anyway, I did some collages of the photos (see below). Enjoy!

1 Culture Day - 28/2

2 Visit To The Fire Station - 6/4

3 Animal Show - 29/4

4 Party Day - 22/5

5 Learning About Growth - 5/8

6 Baking Day - 11/8

7 Visit to BreadTown - 14/8

8 Merdeka Day - 29/8

9 Gym Day - 17/9

10 "Our Little Storybook" Concert Day - 1/11

I am quite happy with what the kindergarten has achieved this past year. In my own reading of childhood education, I have come across this metaphor of the "beacon". According to Margaret Mahler, renowned child psychoanalyst, a beacon signifies a fixed light which gives the child the security to move out safely to explore the world and then return safely to harbour. In this aspect, I think Beaconhouse Pre-School has done fairly well in promoting learning through play and exploration and in building self-confidence in children.

Au Revoir, 2008!

The National Library, KL

These past two weeks have been really good for bonding with Son No 2. With him as the only one of my sons on holiday, I could plan activities with him in the starring role. I am sure he loved the attention. Likewise for me, I also loved these one-on-one moments.

Yesterday morning, both of us visited the National Library in KL. It was our maiden foray into the local sights and happenings. He wanted to go to the Zoo Negara but I was not up to it as yet. The Zoo Negara is further away in Ampang and after the Singapore Zoo, there is a strong feeling that we are just setting ourselves up for disappointment.

The Perpustakaan Negara along Jalan Tun Razak is located in an eye-catching, stand-alone building. Like many buildings in KL, its design is interesting - creativity in architecture is one aspect that Malaysia can stand tall. The Children's Library is in a separate area and so we did not enter the Main Library.

The Children's Library is better than I expected (I have deliberately lowered my expectations). It is well-stocked with books - but as far as Son No 2 is concerned, they are not the right type of books. After glancing at some books untidily strewn at the low shelves, he was put off because "all the books are in Malay and Chinese". You can see disappointment written all over his face. After some effort, he managed to come across an English book on Leopards and another book on Animals. His faith was somewhat restored. In the end, we read some Chinese story books which we did enjoy.

It is difficult not to compare with our Bishan Children's Library which is like the gold standard. My main grouse is that there is a lack of discipline among the librarians and the library-users to put the books back where they belong. It is near impossible if you want to locate any particular book. Getting hold of a good book is like a treasure hunt. There are English books - I saw a couple of Enid Blyton books - but there are not many of them. The library would have been quite suitable for us, I think, as we do not have enough Chinese books and no Malay books in our house, but it would take some convincing for the children to read these "foreign language" books.

The library was manned by courteous staff who made the effort to speak to me in English. We were the only non-Malays there. So there I was, asking them questions in Malay, and they were replying in English - neither of us totally fluent in our speech but both parties trying to be accommodating! The membership is a token RM1 and members can borrow 3 books up to 3 weeks. But we did not take up the offer as it is probably not worth the effort for us.

It was a short visit. We could see the Twin Towers from the Library building and we could not resist this picture-perfect shot.

Newsflash!

I was flipping through The Star a few moments ago when Son No 3's picture jumped up on me (see above). Can anyone spot him?

His kindergarten has an advertising feature in the StarSpecial's Parenting Section and has chosen a photograph from their Peter Pan concert item. What a lovely surprise.

The full article is below:

BTW, Son No 3, in his Red Indian costume, is second from left.

Our Top Ten 2008 Hitz

The year is fast drawing to a close and the mood is there for drawing up lists. [Be warned!]

Yesterday, Son No 1 and I sat down together and each came up with our list of favourite songs of 2008. Son No 1 got his I-pod this year and since then, has been following the chart-toppers faithfully. I remember I was about that age when I started listening to pop music. Now, we listen to songs together during our drive home from school.

I might add that Son No 1's list sounded more like his current top ten hits. I know of a few songs that he used to like not too long ago but did not appear on the list.

On the other hand, my list sounded like the Top Ten from 2007-2008. When I did some homework, I realised that some of the songs that I have chosen were actually released in 2007. So, for me, I retain my memory for too long! But where our respective memories overlap, we do like the same songs :)

So here goes (not in any particular order):

Son No 1's Top Ten 2008 Hitz

1 Crush: David Archuleta
2 Love Story: Taylor Swift
3 9 To 5: Mike Myers
4 Disturbia: Rihanna
5 Viva La Vida: Coldplay
6 Love Bug: Jonas Brothers
7 4 Minutes: Madonna feat. Timberlake
8 The Great Escape: Boys Like Girls
9 I'm Yours: Jason Mraz
10 Now Or Never: High School Musical 3

My Top Ten 2008 Hitz

1 I'm Yours: Jason Mraz
2 Bubbly*: Colbie Caillat
3 Finally#: Fergie
4 4 Minutes: Madonna feat. Timberlake
5 Viva La Vida: Coldplay
6 Love Bug: Jonas Brothers
7 7 Things: Miley Cyrus
8 Take A Bow: Rihanna
9 Won't Go Home Without You: Maroon 5
10 American Boy: Estelle feat. Kanye West

*Released in the US, Australia in 2007 but in the UK in 2008
# This is the only track from Fergie's debut album, The Dutchess, that was released in 2008.

If I Had A Girl...

... I wouldn't do anything different from what I am doing with my three sons now. Those who know Beyonce's latest hit would have an idea what might have prompted this post. The other prompt for this post is this incident which I will relate below.

There was one Friday afternoon when I went to the nail parlour to have a pedicure. In came a well-groomed mother with her daugher who is not more than 8 years old. Lo behold, my jaw dropped when I realised it was not the mother but the little girl who was having her finger nails painted. I found myself asking which school permitted their students to have painted nails? Then I realised it was a Friday and so perhaps, the girl had the blessing of the mother to have her nails manicured for the weekend.

Anything wrong with painted finger nails on a young girl? Hmm... nope, probably not, if you think that it's also ok to have young girls putting on make-up, walking around in tottering heels and participating in beauty contests.

If I had a girl, I would dress her up in comfortable clothes that would allow her lots of mobility to explore the world. T-shirts and jeans or bermudas should be the staple clothes. Smocks were fine too. Dresses were lovely but for practical reasons, would be reserved for special dress-up occasions. Her nails would be trimmed neatly, with no nail varnish, thank you. She would wear flat sandals or rubber-soled shoes so that her feet could develop properly.

If I had a girl, she would play with a wide variety of toys - the same toys that I have bought for my sons which included lego blocks, puzzles, soft toys, playdough, oven and crockery set, hotwheel cars, train sets and figurines of cartoon characters for imaginary doll play. Of course, she would have additional toys that she would choose for herself and if these included Barbie dolls, that would be fine with me too.

If I had a girl, she would read the same books that I have bought for my sons. Just as I have done with my boys, I would restrict her from traditional fairy tales at a young age.

If I had a girl, I would be just as honest with her, be just as sensitive to her feelings and give her just as many opportunities to better herself. She would be given a chance to learn piano, but whether she succeeded or not, would be left to her. She would learn taekwando, rather than ballet, and I would make sure she excelled in it - like her brothers, the ability to defend herself is very important in the real world - more so since she was a girl. But if she had wanted to learn ballet as well, why not?

If I had a girl, I would encourage her to dream that she could be whatever she wanted to be. Yes, even the President of the United States. Or the Best Mother in the World. The same options are available to the boys too - just change that to the Best Dad in the World.

If I had a girl, I would hope that in my old age, she would be someone who would do things with me, whether it is watching the same type of movies that we both enjoy, reading, travelling together or whatever. Someone who would become my friend. Exactly the same hope I have with my boys.

My Top Ten Novels

I used to read a lot of novels. Recently, however, the number of novels I read has dwindled to perhaps around 2-3 a year, mainly due to competitive substitutes in the form of non-fictions and the internet. In trying to compile my list of top ten novels, I did not realise what a mammoth task it would be until I got down to shortlisting. Thus, I have set out the following criteria for myself:

1. The novel must have resisted the passage of time. It should be an event that lingered in the mind long after the novel is finished.
2. The novel should have an impact or influence on my life. Or it should have added considerable useful knowledge to my database or set me thinking. Thus, "lightweight" fictions, though highly enjoyable, will be disqualified.
3. The enjoyment factor must still be there.

So, tah-dah, my favourite novels of all times (not in any particular order):

1 Jung Chang - Wild Swans

For one who wants to know more about China and its recent history, but is not ready to plough through volumes of history books on the subject, Jung Chang's eminently readable book serves as a good source. It was from here that I launched on to reading Mao's biographies and other books related to China. But none beats this book, auto-biographical in nature, spreading over three generations in the turbulent 20th century years of Mao's China, which remains etched firmly in my mind.

2 Amy Tan - The Kitchen God's Wife/Joy Luck Club and others

Amy Tan is an expert on the complex mother-daughter relationship. Her accounts of the conflicts faced by overseas Chinese trying to adjust to their New World are told with humour and deep insight. Her books are a must-read for all Chinese daughters and those who want to understand the Chinese women in their lives. Her autobiographical essays, published under The Opposite Of Fate, provide interesting glimpses to the live of the author and her influences.

3 Leon Uris - Exodus/ Mila 18 and others

Leon Uris was a writer of Jewish descent and he wrote historical fictions based on events in the first half of the 20th century, mainly the Second World War. I learnt much about the persecution of the Jews in the various European communities, well beyond what history textbooks can tell you, as well as the controversies surrounding the creation of Israel and the Palestinian conflict, through his books. Some say his accounts are biased, but still... all writers are entitled to their points of view.

The most vivid memory for me of Leon Uris was that I was caught reading one of his novels under my desk during an English lesson when I was in Secondary Four. So riveted was I with his narrative that I could not put his book down - not even during lessons and to think I have always been a model student! The teacher did not punish me - maybe she thought reading the book was just as good a way of learning English as paying attention in her English class, lol.

4 Rohinton Mistri - A Fine Balance

This is a recent novel that I read and it took my breath away with its eclectic mix of characters and multi-faceted story-line. The novel is definitely one book that I will want to read again in the future. The writer is Bombay-born and now living in Canada. His book describes the struggles of the disadvantaged in inner-city Bombay, with the Emergency as the back-drop (70's). The revelations of the decay, corrupt, impoverishment and injustice in this crowded city are both eye-opening and heart-rending. I love the main characters - a student, a widow and two tailors who are uncle and nephew. The ending is beautifully executed - with just that touch of irony tinged with optimism.

5 Vikram Seth - A Suitable Boy

Vikram Seth's epic novel (close to 1,500 pages) was my introduction to the genre of fictions by Indian-born writers. The book followed the parallel lives of several protaganists from upper-middle class background as their characters converged and diverged in the vast rich canvas that is India. I have learnt so much about India from this book - the political developments in the post-Independence era, the conflicts between the various castes, races and religions (Hindus versus Muslims) and their cultural practices/sensitivities. At the core is a family/love story as the mother attempts to choose a suitable groom for her independent-minded but traditionally obedient daughter, thus the title of the novel.

I chose to read this novel during the confinement period after Son No 3 was born. What better time is there to read when one is advised to stay in bed all day to rest - ya, the body can rest but the mind is active :) Even during feeding times, the book would be propped in front of me - it is now known as multi-tasking! If one chooses to read this epic, one must set aside time for it. It is easy to lose track of the many characters and plots in the book if the focus is not there.

6 Barbara Kingsolver - The Poisonwood Bible

The novel tells the story of a missionary family, consisting of the over-zealous minister, his passive wife and their four daughters, venturing into the heart of Congo to "save" the unenlightened souls of Dark Africa. This rich, rich text is to be studied for its many themes and messages, such as the many hypocrisies in personal, religious and political confrontations, but what stood out for me most memorably is one incident in the book when the mother had to make a decision on which daughter's life to save in a certain crisis situation. While this is not the central theme of the book, it really got me thinking.

7 Jane Austen - Pride & Prejudice

I am not a big fan of English Literature classics but this book did have an impact on me when I was younger. I read this book many times when I was in high school and was drawn into the strange Victorian world where women sit around the whole day and do nothing but wait to be married off! The wealthy, handsome and silent Mr Darcy in the novel must be the dream of all young girls. And yes, I enjoyed the movie based on the book. I note this is yet another book with a family of daughters, just like Louisa May Alcott's Little Women and Barbara Kingsolver's The Poisonwood Bible. A family of daughters probably provide more fodder for emotional plots than a family of sons!

8 Erich Segal - Doctors

The title says it all. The book is about a group of medical students in the Harvard Medical School and their professional lives thereafter. Medical students have attested that their experiences fairly resemble those that are fleshed out in the book. On my part, I always liked well-researched books and many of Erich Segal's novels are. His most famous novel is perhaps Love Story, also beautifully-written, and now immortalized in the movie of the same name starring a very young Ryan O'Neal and Ali McGraw.

9 Maeve Binchy - Echoes/Circle of Friends and others

Maeve Binchy's heartwarming stories have more or less the same formula. The setting is mainly in small Irish towns that face the perils of development, the characters experience socio-economic class divides and the generation gap, the stories are female-centric. What works for me are the wholesome old-fashioned values depicted in the stories - values such as hard work, honesty, loyalty, friendship and love. Reading her novels, especially the earlier ones, is like going home after a hard day's work.

10 Harper Lee - To Kill A Mockingbird

The story of a black man charged with the rape of a white woman set in the 1930's in Alabama, this is a timeless gem that gets better with each reading. It was my literature text in high school and as I read it again this year, now with a matured eye, I am able to appreciate the book even more. To some readers, the build-up of the story is considered slow (the court scenes start somewhere in the middle of the book), but the various early experiences of Scout, through whom the story is narrated, and Jem, her brother, are relevant to the understanding of their development maturity.

In the above list, I know I have left out some good contenders for the top ten but I had to stop somewhere. But nvm.... by listing down these books, I can't help but hope that one of these days, at least one of my sons will enjoy reading, and not just reading, but reading novels, as much as I do.

Books Forever - Son No 3

When Son No 3 was born, seven years after Son No 1, his reading diet has already been largely pre-determined. The children's library in our home was already pretty well-stocked with books that we have accumulated over the years. The upside was that since young, he could flip through books and take his pick as to which book to read. Books were naturally a part of his life. Nevertheless, there was a downside to the situation as his reading interests were somewhat influenced by his brothers who have 'been there, done that'.

As with the other two sons, Son No 3 enjoyed reading the Ladybird series, "Topsy and Tim" (above). They are my favourites too and I would highly recommend them for pre-school children. The books are anchored in real growing-up experiences of British children but Asian children should have no problem identifying with the universal themes. Some of the key events in my children's lives were preceded by reading these books, like "T&T Go To The Dentist", "T&T Start School" and "T&T Go On An Aeroplane". Just last week, I added two more books to the collection, "T&T Have Chicken Pox" and "T&T Learn To Swim". Son No 2 chose the books as he knew of friends getting chicken pox and he wanted to know what it was like. And yes, swimming lessons are on the cards.

So far, in his young life, the books that Son No 3 really desired are these Pokemon books (above). These are colourful picture books filled with puzzles and hundreds of Pokemons. All three boys love these pocket monsters - but lately, it's more Son No 3 who would spend long hours tirelessly searching for these Pokemons in the mazes and learning about each of their characteristics. What I can say is that though these books have little literary value, they are good for developing memory. It never ceases to amaze me that my children (and millions of Pokemon fans out there) could categorise each of these hundreds of Pokemons according to its type (fire, grass, water etc) and rattle off their different modes of attacks, how much HP they get, and the most effective defence mechanisms against which type of attack. As I often thought to myself, if students could remember all that, they should have no problem with the Periodic Table!

To me, what set Son No 3's reading programme apart from his two elder brothers is the exposure to Chinese story books. This is something that his brothers were not privileged to when they were younger because I was not able to read Chinese then. Thanks to the Chinese that I picked up while coaching Son No 2 this past year, I am now able to read children's Chinese story books confidently with the two younger boys. And by virtue of his young age, the chief beneficiary is Son No 3.

So our collection of children's books is likely to grow in that direction - more Chinese story books. In addition to Topsy and Tim, we will now follow the adventures of Ming Ming and Li Li (above) as they go about their daily lives!

Books Forever - Son No 2

Son No 2 loves his Animal books. Animals have been his enduring passion thus far and have outlasted Dinosaurs, Star Wars, Pokemon and other equally deep but transient interests.

Big Cats are his favourites and he has easily three books with that same title. As they are published under different publishers, they offer different perspectives and Son No 2 would plough through the books to find the little nuggets of information that may be present in one book and not the others. Besides that, he has numerous books on Predators, Wild Animals and the like.

The first Animal book that Son No 2 read was this edition called "Wild Animals" (see above) under the set of books "A Child's Library Of Learning". It is his firm favourite, as evidenced by its obvious state of use - it has scotch-taped spines and well-thumbed, dog-eared pages hanging loosely, in contrast to the well-kept, pristine state of some of the other books in the set, like "Music And Art". The topic which held his fascination the most was "Which Animal Is The Fastest?" which set out the different maximum speed achieved by different animals. Btw, the fastest land animal is the cheetah which can reach a blistering speed of 113 km/h.

Son No 2 went on to read many other children's books on animals that were available in the market. But there is this one book that became his definitive book. In my mind, when I imagined him with a book, it would be this book.

Son No 2 chanced upon this "Encyclopedia of Animals" (see below) at Borders@ The Curve sometime in early 2007. He really loved it but I hesitated to buy it as the book was not written for his age group and the contents might be too advanced for him - though paradoxically, at the back of my mind, I knew that was precisely the reason why he liked it so much - he wanted more advanced learning about animals. But as his mother, I was equally cautious not to kill his interest by getting him something that was beyond his years - he was only five years old then.

But subsequently, he frequently talked about this book and whenever we visited The Curve, he would want to go and see the book (he could not read that well yet). One day, when I was on my own at Borders, I saw that the book was on offer and it sort of gave me the impetus to make the purchase. I saved the book for his 6th birthday present.

And this book became his most cherished book ever. There was sufficient information for him to digest for the whole year and though he could not read very well what was written, I read to him. And sometimes he could not understand the formal English and I had to translate the meaning to his level. But he learnt a lot. And was proud of it. And I am proud of him.

So far, Son No 2 has demonstrated the ability for deep and self-directed learning. As an educationist, I know how important this is.

As he grows, I have no doubt that he will develop other interests. But whatever it is, if he continues to show the same learning attitude, he cannot go wrong. The challenge now, as always, is not to let the environment douse his flame of learning. And as his parent, I am aware that this heavy responsibility is mine.

Books Forever - Son No 1

Son No 1 is not an avid reader, but he is an intense reader. He reads periodically, but during those times when he read, he would read endlessly. In his first 12 years, I would say Son No 1 has had four phases of such great reading spells.

The first phase was when Son No 1 was 4 years old. He was in pre-school and we invested in a set of children's books called "A Child's First Library Of Learning". It was a most worthwhile investment. Every night, we read 2-4 pages and in that way, we read book by book until we finished almost the entire set of 24 books.

Most people might think that reading such encyclopediac books is dry, but my children (yes, subsequently the two younger boys followed the same path) would disagree. They light up when they discover new things and have a natural curiosity to always want to know more. It is not surprising therefore that people are normally impressed by their general knowledge. This is not to say that my children are exceptional in that way; I believe all children have the same curiosity about the world around them, it's just that some may not have the opportunities to have their questions answered.

The transition from being-read-to to reading-by-himself was difficult. For a while, I did not know where our informal reading programme was headed. Thank goodness the next big wave hit and that was when Son No 1 discovered Roald Dahl. He was about 8 years old then and I believe credit must be given to his class teacher that year for her role in encouraging her students to read. Son No 1 loved Roald Dahl's books and very often, would burst out laughing when reading his books. The characters and plots were zany and sometimes, irreverent. The books were about imagining the impossible and making the impossible a reality.

After that phase, I could not get Son No 1 interested in reading for a while. He did not like Enid Blyton. I could not get any other age-specific books that interested him. He had other distractions and pursuits.

It was when Son No 1 turned about 10 years old, that he started reading a series of books, Mr Midnight, which are essentially horror stories written in the local context. The writing was pedestrian but heeding Deng Xiaoping's theory that "it does not matter whether the cat is black or white, so long as it catches the mice", I bought every book in the series for him. So captured by the books was Son No 1 that he went for a book-signing session at Junction 8 by the author who wrote under the pen-name, Simon Lee, but is in fact a white Australian residing in Singapore. The author gave out a free signed poster of himself, which still hung in Son No 1's wardrobe. Up to when he was 12 years old, Son No 1 would be eagerly awaiting each new additional book to the series and would be among the first to purchase them.

At 12 years old now, Son No 1 tells me not to buy any more Mr Midnight books. His reading has matured to a new level - Harry Potter.

I myself have read Harry Potter and know that the books are page-turners but even I have failed to anticipate how Son No 1 could be so fully captivated by them. He has read the books umpteen times and laments to me that I should have got the hard cover version for him. I would have too, if I had known that he would love the books that much. As it is, it was only the last instalment that his Ping Yee got a hard cover edition for him.

So where do we go from here? I don't know. Recently, I bought the first two of Dave Pelzer's trilogy. I also bought the Diary of Anne Frank. They are my gifts for him for the upcoming holidays.

I have also thought of writing to JK Rowling. I would say, "Please, can you continue writing about Harry Potter? Here, I will give you an idea. Harry and Ginny got married and they had children who also went to Hogwarts. Why don't you write about this next generation? Ya, we can also have the Malfoy gang and a little Hermione brainiac. We ALL want to read more of Harry Potter and only you can do the magic. Kindly make more millions for all our sakes."

Books Forever - Firsts

Yesterday, I reminisced about the first two story books that I owned, both by Enid Blyton.

To my absolute delight, after reading the blog entry, my younger brother sent me a note, together with the images of the covers of the books (see above).

Yes, that's it - the exact edition and illustration! Thanks, brother.

I was wondering how did he manage to ferret out those covers from the archives and then it hit me - Google Image, of course, right?! So clever.

I remember, in those days, my mother would always accede to our requests to buy story books. My younger siblings and I were all book-lovers. At that time, each soft cover copy of an Enid Blyton book cost RM1.60 and we bought a lot of them from the Jaleel's Baby Centre at State (the shop is still there today but with a different mix of merchandise).

On my part, I devoured each of the books, reading them over and over again. The same can be said, I believe, for my sister and brother. My favourite was the Malory Towers series - see right for the exact edition. Vive le Google!

While I got my first story books when I was 8, it was quite different for my own children. I got my Son No 1 his first "book" when he was just a few months old. It was a soft plastic book with Disney characters and it would squeak when you press it in the middle. It is now lying somewhere around, I believe, just can't locate it now. As a baby, what Son No 1 liked to do when holding the book was to chew its edges. There were no words in the book - it's just one of those marketing successes designed to satisfy parents who wanted their children to get used to the structure of books! Ya, me a kiasu parent. But let's put on record that I never read to the boys when they were in the womb - so I do not fall under the category of a super-kiasu parent!

The first real paper book I got for Son No 1 was this Ladybird "Touch and Feel" book called "Shiny Car". It is made of hard cardboard so that the pages don't tear. As you can see (right), the book has survived rough handling by all three boys.

The rhyme in the book is familiar (see below) as I have used the same book for all three sons.

Unfortunately, I do not have any recollection of "first books" for my other two sons. The first book for Son No 1 should be the first books for them as well. Being the firstborn always has its privileges, but as I always remind Son No 1, such privileges come with responsibilities, which the firstborn cannot escape. But that's another story.

Well, I guess that's enough reminiscence for today. In my next post, I will write about my three sons' current interests in books.

Roots

Yesterday, in a burst of nostalgia, I visited my Primary School with Son No 2, who is already on holiday. This was something that I wanted to do for years, but I never got down to doing it. The primary school holidays have started and it was an opportune moment to visit the school without disturbing the students.

My first memory of the school was when my late father brought me here for the registration when I was 6. I had earlier been registered in the Bukit Bintang Girls' School in KL but since we were going to shift to PJ, my father had to pull strings to get me into Assunta Primary which was the best girls' school in PJ at that time. I don't have a lot of memories of my father and this was the only outing I ever remembered with my father, who died of a stroke in October that year.

The school building is much like how it was 30+ years ago. For such an old building, the maintenance is commendable. The most noticeable difference is that the driveway is now bumper-to-bumper packed with cars. These belonged to the teachers as I realised later that they were having a staff meeting during the school holidays.

As I stepped into the school compound, I realised that everything has shrunk in size. As a child, the surroundings looked much bigger. The school field, the canteen and the hall were actually much smaller than I remembered.

The first place I passed by was my Standard Two classroom. The door was opened and I walked in. During my time, this was the only classroom in the whole school with yellow-painted steel chairs and tables arranged in rows. It was a very cheerful classroom. Now, the furniture has been replaced with plastic chairs and wooden tables. But this classroom will always bring back memories of my best friend at that time, a girl whose name I can still remember vividly in my mind. She holds a special place in my heart because she is the one who introduced me to the world of books. She lent me an Enid Blyton story book and as I struggled through the pages (the only English I read up to then was the English Reader that we used during lessons), I was drawn into another world.
From then on, I remember the gifts I requested for when I did well in school were always books. Two of my first possessions were "The Boy Next Door" and "Hurrah For The Circus", both by Enid Blyton. The latter was a gift from my Cousin Peggy - it just goes to show that a book gift is a treasure that lasts forever (is that a slogan from MPH or Times?!)

As I toured the school with my son, I remembered all my teachers - Mrs Chew, Cik Rusiah, Cik Sayang, Cik Sharifah, Mrs Bala and Puan Hajjah Maisarah - who taught me from Standard One to Standard Six. It's funny, but ask me about my high school or JC teachers, and I can only give vague recollections - I would have forgotten many of their names, maybe I can recall some of their faces. Worse, my varsity lecturers hardly left any impression in my mind, I only remember those who were involved in scandals, like that lecturer who purportedly was having an affair with a student! But when I dream of teachers, it would be these primary school teachers that appear in my dreams.

And when I dream of school, it is this old primary school building that I dream of - the wide gently-sloping stairs (see left) where the Standard One students would gallop uninhibitedly to reach the canteen, the huge Standard Five classroom that overlooked the nurses' hostel next door and the doorways at the hall (below) where we sat and played Five Stones during recess.

Even the Prefects' notice board (below) was at the same place, though the notices are in Malay now.

Those were the days.

As I luxuriated in the past, I wondered whether there is any value to sentimentalism?

In Singapore, my high school has been upgraded and transformed beyond recognition. The varsity hostel, where I stayed for four years and where I met my husband, has been torn down to make way for a new highrise hostel-building that can cater to the needs of varsity students today. The tangible value-addedness of such actions is undeniable and obvious to all. Nevertheless, I have never felt the compulsion to visit any of these places. There is nothing there for me.

But here, the pull to visit the old primary school building is irresistable. I feel a sense of connectedness to the past and as I explained my memories to my Son No 2, it was like cementing the bond between generations. How important is this sense of history? I don't know. All I know is that while change is inevitable, it is good to have some balance. And as a mother, I am glad I can share my roots with my sons in a most tangible way.

Que Sera Sera

The other day, while I was playing on the piano and flipping through some old music books, I came across an old piece, "Que Sera Sera". I played the familiar melody and over the next couple of days, the song echoed in my head. We all know the popular lyrics. I reproduce an excerpt here:

"When I was just a little girl,
I asked my mother, what will I be,
Will I be pretty, will I be rich,
Here's what she said to me.
Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be,
The future's not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera,
What will be, will be."

I thought of the lyrics and a profound wave of ... sadness descended upon me. I know the song's overall message is supposed to be one of optimism. But I would add the caveat that it is only an optimistic message for the young.

When one reaches middle-age or beyond, it might be more appropriate to start thinking in terms of "whatever could have been, could have been ....". Now what is sadder than that? Especially for those middle-aged (or older) folks who look back on their lives, and feel regret if there had been potential unrealised or realisation of time better spent, choices better made. I will stress here that I am not making a personal statement, but rather, making a wry observation of life.

But is it true in the first place? Whatever will be, will be? Surely our destiny is in our hands and we have the power to shape our own future? Imagine Obama proclaiming "whatever will be, will be...." - he would have kissed his presidency goodbye.

No, my message to my children is always "you can be whatever you want to be... so long as you set your mind to it".

This question - what he wants to be when he grows up - continues to plague Son No 3's mind. He's the only one of my three sons who constantly thinks and talks about it. Son No 2 talks about it sometimes and Son No 1 simply says he doesn't know.

Last night, Son No 3 said he wanted to be a "banger". I scratched my head. What's that? Does he mean a builder, someone who hammers like Handy Manny, the cartoon character from Playhouse Disney? Son No 2 came to his rescue. "No, Didi wants to be a banker, like Faidu."

So I asked Son No 3, do you know what a banker does? "Work in the Bank-la!"

But of course.

Piano Class

"When you're a little kid... you're a little bit of everything. Artist, scientist, athlete, scholar. Sometimes it seems like growing up is the process of giving those things up, one by one. I guess we all have one thing we regret giving up. One thing we really miss... that we gave up because we were too lazy... or we couldn't stick it out..."

Diehard fans of the hit TV series, Wonder Years (1988-1993), will recognise this narration from the protagonist, Kevin Arnold, in one of the episodes. In this episode, Kevin recalled the arduous piano lessons that he had to take from his cantakerous piano teacher and how he desperately tried to prove himself in a concert. He subsequently gave up piano and twenty years later, reminisced about those days with regret.

Incidentally, Trivia No 1: It was from this episode that I first heard and fell in love with the classical piece by Johann Pachelbel, "Canon in D major". Trivia No 2: Son No 1 would have been named Kevin if we had wanted a Christian name for him - just shows that I really loved the series. [In fact, in his cohort, there are many boys named Kevin, and I am sure their parents were similarly influenced!]

Reminiscence aside, when I look at my boys now, the universal themes featured in the show still struck a resonance with me, like this one that I extracted above. As parents, we try to expose the children to many things, not because we want to pressure them to excel in all activities, but it's more like, to give them a chance to discover their talents or interest. Sometimes, however, interest takes time to develop and one needs to stick it out. That is the difficult part.

Son No 1 gave up piano when he was 6, after attending classes for two years - which is not bad, I guess. I allowed him to give up because he would be crying over the piano when practising, so what's the point? But sometimes, I do wonder, would he have learnt better discipline in life if we had insisted that he continued? A music education does instil discipline, if nothing else.

Son No 2 is now learning piano. This is his third attempt - or rather, my third attempt - at getting him going at it. The first attempt was in a class setting in a music school but the teacher was fierce and demoralising and the class was moving too fast. I then switched him to a private teacher who came to the house - but this teacher was uninspiring, to say the least. Now, I send Son No 2 to a music school for a one-to-one lesson every week and it is so far so good. Teacher Jennifer clicks with Son No 2 and I can see she is a good teacher - "good" as in she can relate to young children and adopts suitable teaching pedagogy. The only tough part is trying to get Son No 2 to practise at home. He is not enthusiastic, but luckily, not obstinate. I try not to pressurise him too much and so, I set the bar really low. But I do insist that he tinkles on the piano almost every day - 5 or 10 minutes will do.

I am now contemplating starting Son No 3 on piano next year. It will be interesting to see how things will work out with him... After all, one never knows and the mother can only hope!

Fear Of Death

It started a few nights ago. Out of the blue, Son No 3 came up to me, saying he did not want me to die. I had absolutely no idea what brought that on. I gave him a hug but asked him why did he say that - but he was unable to answer. On my part, being scrupulously honest, I was unable to promise him that I would not die. I also could not tell him that death was something everyone would go through sooner or later. I was stuck for words.

But that was not it. Over the last couple of days, this thought of death continued to harbour on No 3's mind. He asked me how old I was and then after some quick mental calculation, stated, "When you are 80-something, and I am 40-something, I still don't want you to die. I want you to take care of me..." Another occasion: "If somebody is sick, and cannot get better, will he die?"

Is this pre-occupation with death natural for a five-year-old? My other two boys have never voiced such fears. As always, I turned to my literature for answers. And indeed, it is there. Fear Of Death. Under the chapter about Five-Year-Olds. Other documented Fears: (these I know) thunder, heavy rains, sirens, the dark, solitude.

On talking about Death, the book advised that we tell the children that "we will be together for a long, long time". Ya, I should have thought about that. It is also a good idea to have a gradual learning experience about Death, which Son No 3 had when our pet hamster and fishes died. Another "learning experience" with Death was when we went to the funeral of my Aunt in Telok Intan in August this year. The trip left an impression on them, I know, as they sometimes still made references to that trip.

I do not consciously bring up the subject of Death but it happens. I sometimes discuss current events with my sons. For example, I remember showing newpaper photos of the Sichuan earthquake to the boys, the devastation it caused and the thousands who died. They were particularly relieved to find that there is no earthquake in Malaysia, Singapore and Australia. They were scared to die.

And yesterday, when the news of the white tigers killing the zookeeper in Singapore was splashed in the local newspapers, I also unthinkingly pointed out the news item to the children. Their reactions were contrasting. Son No 2 was impressed by the tigers' strength (he probably did not see the reality of the situation and treated it more like a fantasy), Son No 3 asked whether the tigers were bad (I explained to him that the zookeeper should not have gone into the enclosure - "huh...oh, you mean the cage?"), Son No 1 gave his classic response (a nonchalant grunt).

But all this talk about Death reminded me of a movie I watched when I was a young girl. The movie, Sunshine (1973 - ya, I just googled it!), was about a young mother having terminal cancer. In anticipation of her death, and to leave something for her young daughter to remember her by, she made self-recordings on tapes that would be played during each of her daughter's future birthdays. For example, for the daughter's 16th birthday, long after the mother is gone, the daughter would still be able to hear her mother's voice when she played the 16th birthday tape. The show left a deep impression on me and many others, I believe. The *sob* factor was very high and John Denver sang the song from the show, "Sunshine On My Shoulders".

Now, if I had known that I would die, I would follow the example and similarly leave words for the children, but in the form of letters - instead of recording videos - words being my forte, not speech. And if death was unanticipated and I were not around to watch the children grow up, they should be able to read this blog of mine and hear my thoughts. And they should feel safe and protected in the love that I have for them and be assured that I would always be there for them, if not physically, then in spirit.

Background music: "I Will Always Love You" by Whitney Houston.

Apartment Hunting

My power of concentration can be downright scary. The last few days saw me obsessed with one task and only one task - and that is, to find suitable accommodation for our vacation at Gold Coast in December. I trawled the internet for information (tripadvisor is really good), referred to my past notes and read travel forums to get a good grasp of the scene. In the process, I neglected myself, all those around me, my blogs and I did not even read the Straits Times for two days. Really.

My search intensified a few notches when I found that many of the choice apartments and hotels have already been fully booked over the Christmas season. Can you imagine how it feels when one has finally narrowed down all the options and has chosen the best deal, and then find that the unit is unavailable? Ya, it's something like choosing to buy a condo unit (when the property fever was at its height) and then realised that it has already been taken. Or worse, finally choosing a life partner and then realized that he/she is already booked! You may think I exaggerate but believe me, the feeling is the same. It is also the same feeling when you have set your eyes on that particular prom dress and realised that it is out of stock or it does not have your size. *grimace*

We did not expect the travel season to continue to boom, given the looming recession in Australia and the worldwide financial quagmire. Boy, how wrong we were. The Gold Coast remains the playground for the Aussies. Nothing is changed. The first apartments to be fully booked are those from the luxurious categories.

And the plunge in the A$ has made Australia an extremely attractive travel destination for Singaporeans. The travel forum pages are dominated by this species, probably so because Singaporeans are very internet-savvy. I read that the latest I-pod Index (similar to the Big Mac Index) shows that the cheapest i-pod in the whole world can be purchased in Australia. As a cost of living benchmark, this augurs very well for me! I am all ready to spend, spend, spend (or is it save, save, save) by buying all those "cheap" EA cosmetics, sports shoes and swatch watches! The warehouse sales here can throw up very good bargains. Well, you can take the girl out of Singapore, but not the "Singaporean" out of the girl! Do we hear "cheep, cheep. cheep" again? :)

But I digress.

Those of you who are still reading this post, and are astute enough, will realise that since I am updating my blog again, I have completed my all-consuming task this morning. I have booked a 2-bedroom self-contained apartment for a week, opposite to Pacific Fair (some say the largest shopping center in the southern hemisphere) and 500m to the glorious beach. What clinched the deal is that the Mantra Sierra Grand is only completed this year and has been in operation for about 6 months. The downside is that it is not as spacious as the older apartments that line the beachfront and we probably get a less sweeping view of the ocean, if any at all. But considering our family history of sensitivy to all sorts of allergans, it is not a difficult decision to make. We can give up a bit of space and a spectacular view for a newer, cleaner apartment.

Oh, something else, there is no internet access from anywhere in the Mantra Sierra Grand. I reckon the Aussies associate internet access with business/work and they do not see the need here, this being a tourist spot. Most establishments here seem to embrace the same thinking. I wouldn't have minded paying for internet access (like what happens in most hotels here) but the Aussies just don't seem to see the need to have such a facility at all. Amazing, but true.

Well, I am prepared to walk across the road after dinner and plonk myself in an internet cafe - which should have free wi-fi, I hope. It would be a pity If I am unable to update this blog while I am there.... :)

Facebook

"The family that plays together, stays together." This old adage still applies in the modern age, albeit in different forms.

Our whole family are members of Facebook, the social networking site. That's right - from my 5-year-old son to my forty-something husband. It helps to connect us somewhat in the digital world. Our extended family members are also on Facebook. This has the effect of levelling all relationships - such that the stern Auntie Mrs Low is now privately called by my young children as Goh-See, their interpretation of her avatar's name!

My young children use it mainly to play interactive games. Their favourite is Pet Society - which is modelled more or less on the same ideas as Sim's. They play with each other as well as with their cousin and uncle.

It's sometimes educational. Their latest favourite game, GeoChallenge, saw the children brushing up their Geography knowledge. Son No 1, through trial and error, has considerably improved his score. I was also extremely heartened to see Son No 2 lugging out the big atlas to learn the flags of the various countries. So much so that he has got his competitive Mummy, who is so far the top scorer, brushing up her knowledge too. Well, all's fair.

At the end of the day, it's a good way for keeping in touch and for sharing photos. We can now "visit" a niece's new house in Melbourne and enjoy another niece's wedding in Singapore. I also see it as a new dating tool - economical, convenient and hassle-free. Hey, are you free to go on Facebook tonight?

A Spoonful Of Medicine

One of the most challenging tasks of a parent is to get a sick child to take his medicine.

With Son No 1, it was near impossible when he was younger. The only reason we brought him to see the doctor was to make sure there was nothing more serious. He hardly took any medicine the doctor prescribed. We tried all sorts of ways: gentle persuasion, trickery (mixing the medicine with some other food or liquid), bribery, physical manhandling and logical discourse. But all to no avail. It was always a trying time. Luckily, his body always recovered and now, he has no problems at all.

Son No 2 was more cooperative but the only thing was he had this in-built self-gagging mechanism. When he did not like the medicine, he would throw up everything after swallowing the medicine. He invented the term "throwing-up bowl" in our household. We always have one vesicle beside him so that he would not mess up the place.

Now with Son No 3, it is different. He generally has a positive attitude towards medicine. This probably stems from his love for food. If his brothers were sick and he was not, he would feign some illness so that he could also take medicine. I know his favourites - the orange-flavoured panadol syrup and actifed, the anti-histamine.

But his recent illness threw up a new precedence. Of the 5 bottles of medicine that he needed to take, he would cheerfully take four of them. When it came to the antibiotic, he would protest tearfully. It must be really yucky. This morning, the maid and I held on to the spoonful of antibiotic for close to one hour, talking to him, reasoning, bargaining, cajoling. We even created a fantasy with the antibiotic as the ammunition to attack the germs, a la the games that they like to play. It was only when Dad threatened with the cane that he yielded.

Now, it's almost time for the antibiotic dose again. I call for patience....

Fever

Yesterday morning, Son No 3 woke up cheerfully and played half-an-hour of Pet Society before complaining of some discomfort in his intestinal region. Thereafter, his disposition deteriorated as rapidly as the rise in body temperature. He did not go to school. I sensed it was more than a common flu - which I normally would have treated at home - and so, I brought him to see a paediatrician at Desa Sri Hartamas.

Son No 3 did not like the doctor's prodding and poking and told the doctor so, but he was generally cooperative. His tonsils were not inflamed. Nevertheless, a bacterial infection was diagnosed as the lymph nodes were enlarged. 5 different types of medicine were prescribed. The cost of the consultation was astronomical at RM236 but that's another story.

Anyway, the fever continued to rage unabated, despite all the medication. At one point last night, his body temperature shot beyond 40 degrees C and I had to sponge him with tepid water to control the temperature. This was in addition to the "Kool-fever" gel sticker which we have pasted across his forehead and the doses of paracetamol.

The fever broke some time after 2 am. It came down to 38 degrees C. After that, we managed to catch some sleep. I slept next to him as Son No 2 was already asleep in my bedroom. In his sleep, Son No 3 sometimes broke into speech. I wouldn't say he was delirious, far from it, he was crystal clear - I remember once he said, "The animals can see it but the people cannot." Wonder what he was dreaming about :)

Today, Son No 3 continues to rest at home. He still has a mild fever but he should be on his way to full recovery soon.

4 Accidents & A Nightmare

This morning, Son No 3 told me he had a nightmare. He dreamt that we had a car accident.

I don't blame him. Over the past 4 months, my car has been involved in 4 minor accidents. Yes, that's an average of one accident per month. In all four incidents, Son No 3 was in the car. The other two boys were in school. But Son No 3 wasn't like traumatised or anything like that. Really.
I will just give a short description of each accident.

Accident No 1

• Isuzu pick-up squeezed its way through a narrow lane and caused a deep gash on my car and broke my tail-lamp.
• Happened outside Son No 2's school.
• Male Chinese blue-collar driver.
• Hit-and-run. I had to foot the repair bill of RM900.

Accident No 2

• Car in front of me stopped abruptly. I managed to stop my car in time but the Vios behind me slammed into my car.
• Happened in Bangsar.
• Professional Chinese woman driver, late-30s?
• Driver apologised immediately and said she hoped my son did not get a shock (she must be a mother herself). Footed the entire repair bill of RM700.

Accident No 3

• I stopped at a stop-look-go junction. The Kia behind me hit the back of my car.
• Happened in Bangsar.
• Male Chinese driver with a deep tan and a "pai-kia" look.
• First thing the driver said in Cantonese was that we were fellow Chinese, so we should just help each other. Amazing... I wonder if I were a non-chinese, what would he have done? I told him straight in the face that this was not a racial issue. (I learnt the Cantonese word for "race" from Son No 2's Moral Ed lessons.)
• Next thing he said was that I should not have stopped. Hello? I was turning into the very busy Jalan Travers.
• Driver then said I was "ba bai" as in very fussy because I was unhappy with the dislodged bumper. He then used his fist to forcefully give the bumper a big thump to push it back to its original position. It worked. Ignoring me, he then sped off.

Accident No 4

• A Honda City reversed out of a parking lot and knocked into my parked car on the other side of the road. Luckily, I was still around to hear the "bang" when the accident happened.
• Happened in Bangsar, outside the kindergarten.
• Middle-aged male Chinese driver, a fellow parent at the kindergarten.
• Footed the entire repair bill of RM350.

Moral Of The Story... nah, there's no moral here. I am pretty blase about these scrapes now. For the last two accidents, I did not even call anyone from the scene of the accident. No big deal. I told my husband as an afterthought after dinner, "By the way, I had an accident today....." like it was just another conversation topic.

Son No 3 has been pretty cool about these accidents too. After the last accident, he asked me, "Mummy, why cars like to bang you, ah?" Wish I knew.

[P/S: The past tense for "foot" is footed. I just checked the Oxford Dictionary :)]

Parenting Books

Even before my firstborn was conceived, I have been reading parenting books. Motherhood can be a frightening prospect to a mother-wannabe because nobody tells you what to do to take care of a baby or to bring up a child. OK, maybe for some people, well-meaning relatives and friends may offer advice about this and that but you really do not know what is the best approach for your child. And I am one of those who generally do not believe what others tell me, without doing my own research.

For me, nothing beats reading. While my husband has been filling up his bookshelves with business-related books, my shelves have seen increasing number of parenting books. Much of my reading followed the course of growth of Son No 1. From infant to baby to toddler to pre-school to tweenie and now pre-teen, the issues surrounding the various aspects of development are different. And then there are those topical issues like sibling rivalry, discipline, sex and moral education as well as bringing up boys, which can be very different from bringing up girls.

Why I am writing about this today is that, while I was doing some spring-cleaning this morning, I realised that I have been relying on my memory and experience to bring up the two younger boys. It's like, been there, done that. No need to read any more. In some ways, it's true - the gut feel is more reliable now.

But as I picked up some dust-covered books, like "The Early Childhood Years: The 2 to 6 Year Old", and as I flipped through the pages, memories flooded my mind. I realised there are things that I can do better for the two younger boys. I should do my revision more often.

There is this beautiful passage from the abovementioned book, on the 5-year-old (Son No 3's age right now):

"Life with 5- and 5-and-a-half-year-olds is much easier than at any other age level because they are intent on pleasing their mothers and fathers. The Mother is the center of the child's universe at this time.

Fives like to have their mothers at home when they return from school. They enjoy holding long talks with their mothers. They especially want mother close at hand at bedtime, when they are sick, and when they are upset about something.

Fives are also very fond of their fathers. They are inordinately proud of them, and love having the company of their fathers whenever possible.

Generally, five-year-olds get along and play well with their brothers and sisters."

This serves as a poignant reminder to me that I must treasure this time with my 5-year-old more.

Fun At Ikea Playland

Son No 3 did not need to go to school today as the kindergarten declared a special holiday after Saturday's concert. As a treat, I brought him and Son No 2 to Ikea's Playland this morning.

This place is highly recommended for stay-at-home moms who need a reliable baby-sitter for an hour or so. While the children were playing, I had time to run some errands and browse at the Popular bookstore. It was a lovely morning. It's times like these that make me appreciate my life as a SAHM.

Growth, Growth, Growth

Let's talk about growth.... not contraction, recession or depression.

• Son No 1 has outgrown his old shoes. His shoe size is now bigger than mine.
• Son No 2 is no longer the shortest boy in class. His title is now passed on to Nuraiman.
• Son No 3 had needed to alter his Red Indian costume because he could not fit into it. His principal said that measurements for the costumes were taken just about 6 weeks ago.
• Mummy has not shown any vertical or horizontal growth. The only tiresome visible growth are hair (the grey bits) and nails.

Prologue

It's almost bedtime. Just wanted to record that Son No 3's behaviour today (after his concert) has been exemplary. We just came back from dinner and throughout the whole evening, he was agreeable, thoughtful, helpful and yes, chatty.

So sweet. It's like he was trying to make up for his not-so-good behaviour this morning :)

Ah, I love happy endings.

"Storybook" Concert

In the end, Son No 3 had a wonderful time performing in his concert this morning.

Earlier on, Son No 3 had not wanted to go for his concert. I am not sure if it was a case of anxiety attacks. It was only after much cajolling that he changed into his Red Indian dance costume with tears rolling down his face. His make-up was completely smeared.

He cheered up visibly in the car while we were on our way to the auditorium in Kelana Jaya. And when we reached the auditorium, he was finally caught up with the excitement. Sigh...

The concert was more than 3 hours long. Speaking as a mother of 3 (this is my 7th kindergarten concert in total), I can tell you that the best moments in these concerts are always the candid moments.

The two kinds of children who provide the best moments are

1) those who are blissfully unaware that they are on stage and continue doing their own stuff and

2) the bossy ones who tell their fellow classmates to do this or that.

I don't think I am biased to say that Bangsar's "Peter Pan" segment was the best in the concert. The entire cast performed well. The only blooper was when Captain Hook's hook fell off when he was duelling with Peter Pan.

Son No 3 had a small non-speaking role as the captor of Tinkerbell and John (see above), a role which he performed with aplomb (but of course!) He later performed the Red Indian dance with the rest of the troupe.

Son No 2 was restless in his seat right from the start. He was climbing up and down his chair, crawling on the floor, moving from seat to seat... Boy, was I glad when he fell asleep after the Peter Pan segment (see left).

Son No 1 seemed to be enjoying himself during certain items (see picture) but he too succumbed to the "sleep powder" in the air towards the end.

As for me, it's time for me now for some shut-eye...