This Is It

Tomorrow I am rejoining the workforce full time. I have been preparing for this day the past few months. Well, as far as I can see, the children, and I, and my helpers, are all ready for the change.

First, my children. The 3 boys have known of this change - that mummy will be working the whole day from mid-August - for weeks now. The idea is not strange to them - working mothers are quite common in our society, and anyway, they have played SIMS before, and they know that both parents should get jobs, lol!

Son No 1, the teenager, took the news matter-of-factly. For most of his life, I was a working mom and it probably made little difference to him now whether I spend my days around the house or at work.

Son No 3 understood the significance of this from his own point of view. He told me earnestly: "You know, mummy, now you REALLY need to tell me your password!" He was afraid that he would not be able to gain access to the computer when I am not around! Hmm, he is 6 years old, the world should revolve round him *grin*

I would say that Son No 2 gave the most, erm..., appropriate response, as far as I am concerned. On hearing that I will not be around to take care of him all the time, he faked great sobs on my shoulder, in the most dramatic and theatrical manner. Cute little guy :) But I know he is the most nervous of the three boys of this change.

As for my maid and my driver, I have given them a weekly schedule that detailed all the children's activities. We have had weeks of dry run now - and hopefully, there will be no hiccups. Ya, both my hubby and I are kind of paranoid about such things and leave little to chance. In addition, I have typed out the menu for lunch and dinner for the whole week, so that the maid can help me prepare all the meals and I do not have to think about that during the week. And yes, the fridge is stocked with enough food to last the whole week.

OK, so I am ready for work tomorrow. The home front is well taken care of. As for myself.... Last night, I dug out a chest of old clothes - my old working clothes - but alas, I can hardly fit into them anymore! Not surprising, of course. It has been 2 years and 8 months since I became a stay-at-home mom. But I have been working part-time and I have enough clothes to last me temporarily, I think - it's not as if I am joining some glamorous corporate sector, haha...

Mentally, I am very well prepared. Teaching is in my blood. Now I can't wait to go to the starting line....

Closure

A number of good friends and loved ones have asked me about the sudden silence on this blog and I apologise for it. Truth is, I have lost the inspiration to write during the past 2 months or so - and even now, as I write, I am struggling to pen my thoughts into words and coherent sentences.

During the past two months, I have unravelled my life... and put it together again. Come 17 August, my title will be reduced back to "mom" and not "stay-at-home mom".

The decision to go back to work is not a difficult one - I have always known that I am not cut-out to be a permanent stay-at-home mom and that at some point in time, I will start to dabble at some other things to keep my mind occupied. [This blog has more or less served that need for the past one year.]

The timing, though, has always been a big question mark. At which point in time do I cross the hurdle back to the working world?

There are practical considerations (like having reliable help at the homefront) as well as affective ones such as the desire to be there when the children are young, at a time when they need me the most. But there is no magic formula to determine the point of intersection when the graph for children's needs (presumably negative gradient) meets with the graph for the mother's needs, beyond which there is no longer incremental utility for staying at home. In addition, there is always the fear factor - which is the decreasing market value of the mother the longer she stays away from the workplace.

Many people think that "if it ain't broken, why fix it?" - and my life certainly isn't "broken". This is not a mid-life crisis! I want to state categorically that I am happy as a stay-at-home mom, and I treasure the times I have with my three sons... and certainly, I will always look back at this period of time as God's greatest blessing on me.

And yet, there is this desire to do more, to stretch myself. God has given me certain talents and nurture has ensured that I am not one to be complacent. At this crossroad in life, I have considered many options (which I will not go into details here) as to what I will do with the remaining years of my life, and ultimately, I have decided to return to my first love, which is teaching.

And so, I will be teaching Chemistry and Biology at the KS3 and KS4 levels (UK curriculum) in an international school here. I will be a full-time staff member working from 8 am to 2:30 pm. The job requirements are quite similar to my last job in Singapore. But hopefully, the work-life balance here, under a team of Brits, will be different from the crazy workaholic work culture in Singapore schools.

On the practical side of things, my going back to work means a re-look at the the children's logistical needs. We considered school buses, shifting activities to weekends, daycare for the two younger boys. We went house-hunting to see if we can shift closer to the children's schools, failing which we considered changing schools for the children. We seriously considered all these possibilities (that's why I said I was unravelling our lives here) but in the end, decided the best option was really to engage a driver to ferry the children around. It is not the most cost-effective option, but it is probably the best option. Thus, as far as the two younger boys are concerned, everything remains status quo, except for the driver of the vehicle.

Son No 1, however, will be changing schools. We have already been contemplating changing schools for him for more than a year now due to the shortcomings of his current school and this presents a good opportunity for him. We will be going to the same international school and though he understandably has his apprehensions about his mom being in the same school, he is mature about it. After all, the fees are very much reduced due to the staff benefit accrued to his mom!

As the next phase of my life is about to begin, I can't help but reflect that life is short. It is up to each of us to make full use of it, based on our best judgment and individual circumstances. Each of us is presented with a unique set of cards and each of us has to find the best path for oneself. As I embark on this path at this point in time, I can only ask for God's blessings. I hope you will do the same for me.

I Am A Teen!

Today I am 13 years old. Wow.

It has been an incredible 13 years. And today I am officially a Teen. Hmm... this day has great significance but since my mom has been super-busy, I just have to take things in my own hands and register this special day on this blog :)

I was born in the Year of the Rat. According to the Chinese Lunar calendar, individuals born under the sign of rat are shrewd and intelligent, possessing a strong zest for life. So far, in the first 13 years of my life, many would attest that I have lived up to my reputation *blush*.

My mother’s earliest memory of me - the real me, not the image of me in her womb – said much for my zest for life. My mother told me that, in the nursery of the hospital where I was born, I cried the loudest. My screams constantly disturbed the other infants who had the dubious pleasure of sharing the nursery with me.

Resting in a ward several doors away down the corridor, my mother could recognize my screams (or so she claims) but would surreptitiously feign ignorance. [“Wow, whose kid is that? What strong lungs, *laugh*!] Nevertheless, the wise nurses had a way of dealing with such situations – they just rolled my crib down the corridor so that I landed up next to my mother who had no choice but to acknowledge me.

My novice mother moved up the learning curve quickly, putting all the theories that she had read from her parenting books into practice immediately. Indeed, here is one mom who would refer to her book before attending to her child. When Method 1 did not work, flip a few pages, apply Method 2. If Method 2 did not work, try Method 3 on page 64. If it still did not work, repeat Method 1... or pass the buck to dad. (Just kidding)

But as all experienced mothers would tell you, nothing beats learning on the job.

I continued to test my mom's patience during the first two months of my life. But as we got to know each other better, we began to tango together smoothly, each day better than the previous day. She understood with her maternal instinct the things that upset me and I knew where she would draw the line and not push my luck too far. We were bonding.

I would not be able to condense 13 years of my life here. But I know my mother loves me more than life itself. I am sure she will write more about my special day another time.

So, nite, nite for now!

May Blues

It could have been pre-destined that May is not a good month for Son No 2.

Son No 2 spent the first two weeks of May taking his mid-year exams - which cover a total of 11 papers. Yes, you did not read wrongly - it is 11 papers for an 8-year-old boy, would you believe it? Let me list the papers again (I have frequently grumbled about this in my previous posts): Malay Writing, Malay Comprehension, Chinese Writing, Chinese Comprehension, English, Chinese Science, English Science, Chinese Math, English Math, Moral Education and Computer. By the time the exams were over, anyone would be braindead, I assure you.

As far as written sit-down exams go, I am convinced that for this age-group, they are biased towards girls. Girls have the better mental attitude and developmental maturity at that age to handle exams. Not the boys. Generally speaking, boys are playful, less meticulous and make careless mistakes frequently. And their attention span is really short. If you were to analyse most exam papers, the careless mistakes start appearing towards the end of the paper.

It is thus not surprising that all the the top 3 scorers in Son No 2's class are girls. It is also not surprising that the top student in the Primary School Leaving Exams (PSLE) in Singapore every year is a girl :(( Ya, ya, this is one sourgrape mother you are hearing from!

Anyway, Son No 2 DID beat the girls and came up top for one of his papers. *Hurrah* It's his pet subject, English Science. He couldn't wait to announce his achievement to me when I picked him up from school that day. Heck, not many adults is better than this third-grader (US equivalent) when it comes to English Science! Especially on this topic that he was being tested this term - Animals and Plants. The reward for his achievement? A photo of the magnificent jaguar on my desktop for a week.

May Blues nevertheless continued to follow Son No 2. He was not selected for participation in this year's Annual Sports Day (he won a gold medal last year) and was disappointed.

And he caught the flu bug a few days ago. Normally, I would self-medicate when the children had fever, cough and runny nose. But this time round, with the H1N1 threat in the air, I did not want to take any chances and took him to see the paediatrician. True enough, the good paediatrician said it was a common bug and prescribed exactly the same medicine that I would have given him. As it turned out, I really paid RM50 just for the peace of mind.

So Son No 2 is resting at home now. He can't wait for June as he will be going to Singapore for a holiday. He and his younger brother have been talking incessantly about the trip and are really excited. Let's hope that's the end to the May Blues.

Fruit Diet Day

There is this email that has been in circulation in the cyberworld for a while - about the goodness of eating fruits. It advocates eating fruits before a meal (not after a meal as what is commonly practised) and having an all-fruit diet for 3 days for detoxification purposes.

Now I have always been sceptical about such emails. There are too many wild claims that are unsubstantiated. Son No 1, a true netizen, regularly asks me complex questions - derived from the internet - such as whether it is true that the length of one's thumb is always the same as the length of one's nose. *Roll eyes*

But this particular email caught my hubby's and my attention. Especially the detoxification part. Man, besides the various health benefits a fruit diet purportedly brings, it promises that I would be GLOWING after a 3-day fruit diet... Hmm, not bad a proposition at all, especially since I should try to lose some weight before the grand wedding bash that is coming up in one week's time.

So I floated the idea and received enthusiastic buy-in from everyone. We decided to try it out for one day first. It's not difficult to guess why we chose yesterday, a Sunday. We figured we would all be weak from the lack of carbohydrates and proteins and so what better day than Sunday, our rest day?

But first, we needed to stock up on fruits, and so we had a fruit shopping spree at Mercato (left) the night before.




Bananas (two combs), apples, pears, oranges, watermelon, lychee, mangoes, grapes... Be warned, it is not cheap to go on a fruit diet :)

Sunday morning came, we had watermelon juice, mangoes and bananas. Some of us miss our morning cuppas... and throughout the morning, we snacked on fruits.

We were a bit worried whether it was suitable for young children to go on a fruit diet and surfed the net to find out more. In any case, in the afternoon, we relented and told the two younger boys to go and drink some milk - which they gulped down hungrily. Son No 3 decided to push his luck further and asked for his otah bun - and he got it.

I was rather impressed, though, by Son No 1's determination to keep to the plan. He had a project group meeting at his friend's house that day and his friends had McDonald's take-way for lunch. But Son No 1, tempted thought he must be, did not sway. He just ate the pear that he had brought along with him - and later he told us that he only tasted the tomato sauce from McDonald's. Good on him.

Late afternoon, hubby and I drove out to buy the King Of Fruits - DURIANS! Ha, that was our secret weapon *grin*



I don't know if the writers of those fruit emails considered durians as a fruit - but it certainly is - and so we were not breaking any rules. We bought three fruits of the "udang merah" or "hong ha" variety - widely regarded as one of the superior species of durians.

After the scrumptious durian meal, we all felt full and contented. Ah, no sweat, this fruit diet!

For dinner, Son No 3 eagerly squeezed some oranges to make juice for us. We had more fruits - grapes, lychees, bananas...

That night, the children and I went to bed earlier than usual.

So did I glow at the end of the diet? Erm... not really. Maybe the next time, we will do it for 3 days. Just maybe.... It is not really a breeze, this fruit diet. The craving for some savoury food is there all the time - for me at least. Son No 2's verdict? "I don't like Fruit Diet Day", he said before he slept. Hmm... I guess it will be difficult to garner support the next time round!

Manglish, Singlish, No Diff-la

Not too long ago, Son No 3 was whining about how much work he had and he said, "Aiyoh, want to pengsan already!".

Pengsan? I was quite amused to hear such a local expression coming out of the babe's mouth. I haven't heard this word for a long, long time.

Hmm... Son No 3 is getting quite localised. Actually, he did not understand what pengsan meant. He just knew that was what his teacher would say when she had too much work. [Incidentally, pengsan is the Malay word for "faint".]

Yesterday, Son No 3 surprised me again when he asked me what is the meaning of "alamak". Apparently, his English teacher had used the exclamation in school. I told him it meant "Oh dear..." and that it is a Malay word.

Yes, amused I was, but at the back of my mind, I was also alarmed. I suppose there is nothing wrong with interjecting a local word or idiom into an English sentence. This is the mildest form of Manglish. But at school, children do pick up all forms of Manglish when they interact with other children.

We do not speak perfect English at home but we try to speak mostly Standard English. I admit we occasionally lapse into creole (which is what the linguists call this form of speech such as Manglish or Singlish) but I don't think it is often.

Son No 2 is not much better. When Son No 2 tells a story or relates an experience, he likes to begin, "One time ah, I did this and that...." And I will always correct his sentence and tell him to begin with "There was once I did this and that...".

On one occasion, he wanted to jump down the stairs and I warned him, "Don't jump!" His response was classic. "Where got I jump?!!"

Yes, he is beginning to speak the more serious form of Manglish. This is not unexpected because he goes to a Chinese primary school and the teachers there are probably the main culprits. This is the trade-off for going to a Chinese primary school. Luckily, Son No 2 likes to watch TV and that includes good edutainment channels like Animal Planet, Discovery, TVIQ and recently - and I was truly surprised by this - even the History channel. So his formal speech is quite OK.

I would like to think that the two boys can code-switch to Standard English when the occasion demands it. Most of the time, they can speak fairly well, though there is obviously room for improvement. I just hope there is no further deterioration.

Son No 1, though, almost always speaks Standard English. He has been attending premier schools since young, whether in Singapore or here in Malaysia, and his classmates mainly come from upper class English-speaking homes.

When he first started school here, he asked me what the word "action" meant. Of course, he knew the proper meaning of the word, but he has heard some of the locals here using it as a verb, as in "No need to action-la." I explained to him that action is akin to showing-off.

For me, I am used to hearing both Singlish and Manglish, and so I do not really spot any glaring difference between the two. The chief difference is that Singlish has more Hokkien/Teochew influence, while Manglish has more Malay influence.

Otherwise, both creoles are quite similar. Both creoles use the suffix "-lah" liberally, albeit in different forms as in "-leh" or "-lo". There is also a fondness to tag sentences with "-one", as in "It's not like that-one..." and to use "got" before any verb, to indicate the past tense, as in "I got eat already..."

I guess the commonality of Singlish and Manglish is the obvious manifestation of the "bond" that tie the people from Singapore and Malaysia as having the same roots. I wish more people will remember that.

Mother's Day

Popo was in town on Mother's Day and we had a 3-generational celebration at a dim sum restaurant here.

Son No 1 sent me a message on Facebook - and this is totally in keeping with his character. On-line chatting is his favourite mode of communication right now. I am glad I am his Friend on Facebook. The two younger boys made cards in school in conjunction with the occasion.

My sis sent me an sms message and showed her perceptive nature once again. She said boys are generally not very "showy" but she is sure my boys appreciated me just the same. Thanks, sis!

Pepper Lunch

The popular Pepper Lunch chain from Japan has opened its first outlet in Malaysia - at the Pavilion Shopping Mall. *Hurray*

We have patronized the restaurant twice over the past one month since it opened. Its signature item, the beef pepper rice, served on a sizzling pan, is Son No 1's favourite and he never fails to order the meal whenever we have the chance to go to the Junction 8 food court in Singapore.

So enthusiastic was he over the dish that he tried to make his own version of the pepper rice at home (below, left). I reckon it's not too bad, considering he did not have the corn and the beef in his rice!
The real deal is on the right -enough to make you drool!!!

Telematch

Son No 3 won a gold medal for his race, "Goblin's Hobble" during his Pre-School's Telematch cum Sports Day last Saturday.

The theme for the day was Magic Mogus and all the events were named after some magical creatures.

Son No 3's race was actually a three-legged race. He and his partner, Michael, anchored the race for his Blue Team and they bagged the gold. I must say the two boys showed very good team work.

Son No 3 was thrilled to bits and now his gold medal figures amongst his most prized possessions.

Aargh!!!!

I spent the whole morning doing a long post - and this is all that was saved!!!! And it's not my fault!

AARGHHHHH!!!

"I Am Gay!!!"

This morning, during breakfast, Son No 3 asked my hubby the meaning of "gay".

*Pause*

My hubby was tongue-tied for a while. I quickly interjected that "gay" means happy. One tends to forget that this young child is growing up in a fairly cloistered environment in a conservative society. What else could "gay" mean?

Then my innocent son took it one step further - he began practising his new-found knowledge by saying, "I am gay! I am gay!"

Err... this will not do. What if he said it publicly? Not that I have anything against gays, but still... it may offend some people and we must not forget that in this country, homosexuality is a crime.

To rectify the situation, I had no choice but to tell Son No 3 that he should just say "I am happy." I told him "happy" is a better word to use than "gay". No further explanation needed or provided.

Luckily, Son No 3 did not pursue the matter further and I was let off the hook.

*Relief*

But I am not the type to be satisfied with "curing the symptoms". I had to find out the root cause. What he asked this morning kept gnawing away at the back of my mind.

So later in the afternoon, after school, I casually asked Son No 3 where he learnt the word "gay". Son No 3 told me he discovered the word "gay" from YouTube. Alarm bells started ringing. I asked Son No 3 to show me the video that he had watched. I was surprised it was entitled, "Spongebob: If You Were Gay". To those without pre-school children, Spongebob is a popular cartoon character with a regular TV series. All my three children like to watch this cartoon.

But it was not a real episode from Spongebob, the cartoon series. The video was the product of some people putting together some Spongebob scenes and editing them to certain words to create a new video. Aiyoh, people are so free-ah.... kind of wu-liao, you know. Luckily, the video was quite innocent, no graphic images as I had feared ... But it goes to show once again what a minefield the internet can be.

Hmm... the two younger boys already knew that they should not simply go into YouTube without my permission. But since Son No 2 discovered that he could watch his favourite Pokemon episodes from YouTube, he has been visiting that site more often and thinking that that's all he is doing, I have relaxed my guard.

Looks like now I have to increase my vigilance again... Or maybe what this stay-at-home mom really needs is some sort of full-time Nanny Guard that will do a good job. Yes, that's probably my next course of action...

P/S: I hope Son No 3 will not ask me the meaning of "queer" next - I notice the word was spoken in the same video!

Another Piece Gone

I have given up on my Sony Ericsson mobile. In the past, it has given me lots of problems - I had to bring it back to the authorised agent less than 6 months after the purchase date. The servicing was free then as it was still under warranty and I must say the after-sale service was superb - efficient and prompt. Nevertheless, when one buys a durable good, one would prefer not to have to test the effectiveness of its after-sale service.

Even after the servicing and changing of parts, I lived with a cranky phone and a crankier joystick for years. The joystick was insensitive at times and when you applied more force, it jumped several notches down the list of options. It just did not want to point where you wanted it to. It was enough to make you want to scream. But to buy a new phone when this phone was functional - despite its quirkiness - would have been wasteful.

Anyway, finally, bits of the black casing started falling off last week, thus making it impossible for me to continue using the phone. Aha... now I do not have to contend with a guilty conscience when I go shopping for a new mobile.

As I do not have the time to shop for a new phone just yet, as a stop-gap measure, I am now using my hubby's spare phone.

That's when I realise there is a problem. The list of contacts in my old phone cannot be merged into my hubby's phone due to lack of memory space. I had to delete some "memory" in my phone. Anyway, I guess it is high time to do some house-keeping. The numbers that I have not used for years will have to make way for those with higher frequency of use.

So this morning, I set out the task to delete low-priority contacts. The majority of these are contacts that I have been keeping since my Singapore days. I am sure we all have such dormant contacts which we keep, either for sentimental reasons or because we are simply too lazy to remove them. So, one by one, ...

Delete - the colleagues from the bank where I worked.
Delete - the colleagues and lecturers from my NIE (teacher-training) days.
Delete - the colleagues from the school where I taught.
Delete - the students whom I have taught.
Delete - the dentist, doctors, gas man, the children's teachers, the schoolbus driver etc

I kept my friends, my family, my present students, my present colleagues and all those new utility numbers in KL.

But you know, that's a whole chunk of my life in Singapore - deleted.

Sure, some contacts from NIE were nothing more than project-mates. Son No 1's dance teacher's contact from his old school was in my phone simply because I might have needed to contact her over dance matters. The gas man, hell, was just a delivery service!

But those were the pieces that formed a part of my live. Every contact represented some piece of memory. As I deleted the contacts, I paused and remembered those moments I had with each particular person. Just a name and the floodgates of memories opened...

*Random*

- My NIE colleague who helped me source for sheep's hearts for my students' dissection.
- My well-educated, modern and wealthy Brahmin colleague from India who invited me to Calcutta (!) for his grand wedding with a girl of his parents' choice in an arranged marriage.
- My various students, their smiles, and mannerisms.
- And so on, and so on...

*Random*

Well, life goes on, I guess.

Though I did think of copying down those contacts in a faithful (paper-based) notebook, which would not run out of memory space so easily, I think there is no point, really.

Life is now, is it not? Anyway, that's what Oprah would have said.

To Work Or Not To Work

Some time last year, one of my good friends in Singapore returned to full-time paid employment after a long spell as a stay-at-home mom (SAHM) - and promptly lost her job a few months later due to the economic downturn.

So AA started job-hunting again. Notwithstanding the master's degree that she holds in the bio-medical life sciences field, she was quite open to other career options, including teaching, but she faced further rejections - which is not surprising at all in today's job market. The situation was enough to make anyone feel down.

As a fellow SAHM, I can perhaps empathise with her situation more than most. Before she rejoined the workforce, we shared many ups and downs in our lives as mothers and SAHMs (there is a perceptible difference between these two terms which I will explain another time) and I can understand her reasons for wanting to go back to work.

Heck, the same thoughts run through my mind frequently. Although we both believe that time spent with family is worth their weight in gold, and are fortunate enough to be in the position to actually have the option to stay at home, which many women don't, it is not clear-cut at all that staying at home is always the natural choice.

Anyway, now that AA has seen both sides of the coin again and again, she tells me something we all know - but tend to forget - that Time is the greatest gift that God can give us, and thus, by extension, Time is the greatest gift we can give to our loved ones.

Over the past few weeks, her hubby and one of her daughters needed medical attention (not life-threatening but time-consuming anyway) and she was glad that she was able to fulfil her duties as mother and wife. If she was holding her job, well, life probably would still have gone on, but the stress in juggling responsibilities and possible self-recrimination for not being there would be wrenching.

So for now, AA will consider some form of part-time employment. That might be the best option - but easier said than done. It is not easy to find part-time employment and job satisfaction is even more elusive.

Sooner or later, I too would be faced with the same soul-searching questions as my children grow and spend more time in school, leading their own lives in their own worlds. My presence will probably be required in diminishing proportions. Would I then rejoin the work force full-time, part-time or start something on my own as an entrepreneur? I do not think I am the type to be able to sit at home and take things easy (I wish I could!)

For SAHMs intending to rejoin the labour market, there is always the deep-seated fear that our value in the working world would have declined exponentially each year we are away from the work force. If we ever want to re-join the work force, there is a time limit before employers write us off mercilessly.

It is not going to be easy. Employers tend to have a negative view of women who were "housewives" before. And chances are the employers are younger than us and while we do not mind, they probably prefer someone who is younger and more malleable. It is going to be The Climb.

Sigh, crossroads again....

Maybe striking out on my own might be the best option...

Maid Drama

When we sat down for dinner last night, we had no inkling of the drama that would unfold later that night.

We had dinner around 8 pm as usual. The dishes were cooked by our maid, Siti. Siti is 26 years old, petite in size, pleasant in disposition, and has been with us for about a year.

Lately, she has been receiving more telephone calls from Indonesia. We can only guess why. Her family problems, which she has confided in me before, are complex. She now lives for her only daughter, a toddler of around 3 years old. After each telephone call, Siti would be distracted and lived in a world of her own for a while.

Yesterday, Siti's husband left a message for her to call her father, which she promptly did after we finished our dinner. Her conversation with her father was pretty normal at first. Then she started becoming very agitated - shouting into the phone and speaking very rapidly. We did not really understand what she was saying.

Then in a split second, she fell onto the floor, the handphone she was holding flung across the room. We rushed to her side and realised that she had fainted. There was no response when we called her name repeatedly. She was as limp as a rag doll. As we shook her and applied medicated oil on her, she regained consciousness for a while, cried unintelligibly, then relapsed into unconsciousness again. This happened a few times. We decided to call for the ambulance.

Meanwhile, my three sons were feeling alarmed. The two younger boys looked scared and worried. They did not know what had happened and even thought Siti might have died. I hastened to explain to them that Siti probably had some bad news and was in a shock. Do shocks make you faint? Not all the time, only if the shock was too much and some people cannot handle it. Hubby explained it further in a way they could understand. It's like the computer "hanging" when there is an overload.

The ambulance took some time to come. We all waited silently and anxiously for the siren. Honestly, if it were a real medical emergency, this would not be good at all. More than 30 minutes later, two paramedics arrived, one Malay and the other Indian. The Malay chap took control of the situation and laid Siti down with legs propped up. He tried to revive Siti on the spot. He asked for some tap water, wet his bare hands with it and wiped Siti's face a few times. Wa, so easy-ah... just use water only. Siti slowly opened her eyes and seemed to be in a daze. She cried again, this time calling for her Allah while mumbling a string of arabic chants. Then she passed out again.

The paramedics felt it was better to send her to the hospital. Hubby went with the maid while I stayed behind to look after the children. Both the Malay and Indian paramedics were very helpful. We spoke with them in Malay and they spoke with us in English. I notice this type of multi-lingual exchange quite frequently - especially when all parties try to show respect for one another by speaking the other's language. The result may be a stilted conversation, but nobody bothers. In fact, I find this a pretty good sign of inter-racial tolerance at the ground level.

I slept with the two younger boys that night for fear that they would have nightmares, but all turned out well. Siti was not hospitalised and my hubby drove her back from the A&E in the wee hours of the morning. She was not sedated, nor was she given any relaxant (which I expected) but rather, the good doctors at the A&E gave her paracetamol. Just Panadol??? Wa, so easy-ah... should have just treated her at home.

This morning, Siti woke up with swollen eyes but she was back to her almost-normal self. What happened, we all wanted to know. In my mind, I was thinking that a tragedy might have befallen her daughter because I heard her calling her daugher's name in between her fainting spells. I knew that Siti previously had another young daughter who died in the hospital due to high fever. I thought if something similar were to happen again, she might not be able to take it.

But I was relieved when I heard her story. With tears flowing down her cheeks, Siti confided that her hubby had taken on a new mistress. (My mind was saying begitu sahaja? Like that only-ah...) This was the second time he had an affair. I knew that the first mistress had died during childbirth (the mortality rate in Indonesia seemed rather high compared to here). Nevertheless, Siti said her heart was very "sakit" or pained.

Compared to the scenario that I had painted in my mind, this was certainly not too drastic. Not to sound callous or anything like that, but oh my, if all the women in KL were to faint when they found out that their spouse had taken a mistress or had an affair, the A&E here would be very busy indeed.

All I can say is, with all the stories I have heard from the maids that I have had, I can write a book. "The Plight Of The Foreign Maids" - hmm, how does that sound? There would be some expose as well... like how some maids are forced to be intimate with their agents... (it really happened). Aha, more dirty secrets to be revealed when you buy my book!

The Electric Plant

Today Son No 3 asked me another profound question.

He had earlier learnt that electricity was carried to our house via electric cables and that the electricity came from electric plants which could be normally found in the mountains.

"Who make the electric plants?"

"Engineers."

"Then who make flowers?"

"God."

"Why God make flowers but not electric plants?"

"Hmm... flowers are natural, but electric plants are made by people...."

(Pause)

"How the engineers know how to make electric plants?"

"Engineers go to University and they learn how to build all types of things."

"But not flowers?"

"Not flowers..."

"But why don't GOD make the electric plants?"

"Err...."

=^=

As the conversation continued, it dawned on me why Son No 3 was confused and why he kept drawing a parallel between the electric plant and the flower.

Son No 3 thought that the electric plant was actually a REAL organic plant - you know, the type with green leaves and all! LOL!

A real plant that could produce electricity???

Hmm... something for our environmentalists to think about...!

G*U*N*S

Yesterday, Son No 3 got another belated birthday present. (WHAT, is this birthday thingy never going to end???)

It's a pair of Ben 10 walkie-talkie. Son No 3 was very excited and possessive over the new toy. But this is one toy that is really no fun playing on your own - so in the end, all the boys had a go at it. I was quite happy to leave them alone playing with their new toy while I did my own thing on the computer. They were shouting inane messages loudly from one room to another - their actual voices drowning the transmitted voices - but no matter...

The next moment when I turned around, who knows, the walkie-talkies (see picture) had morphed into a pair or guns, lol! The boys were no longer contented with the game of transmitting voices but were now leaping off the sofa, hiding behind walls and aiming at each other with their "guns" - shooting, dodging, reloading..... are they creative or what? A two-in-one toy!

Sigh! Should have known this would happen.

I have never bought a single toy gun for my three sons - but this had not stopped my three sons from developing this fascination with guns and shooting. They somehow manage to turn whatever they can get hold of into their "guns", whether we like it or not.

You're right, it's in the male genes.

*Give up*

Mothers of daughters only will not understand.

I learnt very much earlier on, thanks to the boys, that the versatility of Lego building blocks makes them ideal for the construction of all types of fanciful weapons.

Disposal wooden chopsticks are also good materials for shaping into guns or bows and arrows.

Plastic drinking straws are easily available and quite malleable.

Even crackers can be bitten and shaped to become a 2-D pistol.

Ya, the boys' imagination knows no bounds when it comes to creating the things that they like (and forbidden).

And when absolutely nothing is available to them, then their thumb and first finger, shaped into the familiar L-shape, will give them the instant gun that they desired!

It's amazing how realistic the boys can be with this shooting-thingy. I notice that, a split second after they have fired a shot, their arm will jerk backwards - as if it was pushed back by the recoil force. Ah, where did they learn that - Newton's 3rd law of motion?! Dodging imaginary bullets, rolling on the ground injured, pretending to be dead - hmm, they can be really good actors, these boys. Hey, no need to go for drama classes-leh...

I have no doubt that, from here, the two younger boys will eventually move on to first person shooter video games - like Son No 1.

Last night, I heard a stream of merry laughter coming out of Son No 1's room. Curious, I went in to check what movie he was watching on his MacBook. But no... it was not a movie he was watching - he was laughing out loud for shooting the wrong people in some computer game. Really.

*Give up*

Women will never understand, I guess.

Restaurant City

The three boys and I have moved on from Pet Society and are now playing Restaurant City.

Both games are found in Facebook.

If you have always wanted to be an entrepreneur, this is the game for you :)

Restaurant City is a game in which each player runs a restaurant. The game is quite simple.

The aim is to (1) run the restaurant efficiently so that customers are satisfied and (2) to grow the business so that it is the highest-ranked restaurant and/or the most beautiful restaurant.

Briefly, the modus operandi is as follows:

1 The number of workers and the size of the restaurant is contingent on *gourmet points* earned based on customers' satisfaction. To level up, players need to collect these points. Customers give a thumbs up for a meal promptly served, thumbs down for a long wait or unclean tables. At higher levels, customers also demand clean toilets.

2 The player hires the workers from the pool of Friends. These workers are designated either as Cleaner, Cook or Waiter.

3 For each meal served, dollars are earned. These dollars are used to upgrade the restaurant or to buy other functional items to improve the popularity of the restaurant. Full discretion is given to the player with regards to the aesthetics and the layout of the restaurant. Dollars are also used to buy food for the workers. If the workers are not taken care of, they will stop working.

4 The menu is dependent on the ingredients collected by the player. Each day, a free ingredient is given when the player logs in. Nevertheless, to make a meal, necessary ingredients can be traded with Friends (ah, there's where the social networking element comes in).

5 The efficiency of the restaurant is measured by the popularity indicator. The absolute maximum is 50.

Watch this space for tips on playing the game!

Postscript: The restaurants depicted above belong to the 4 of us. Come and visit!

Oscar Biggies 2008

I know the Oscar season is over - but it is only now that I have managed to catch most of the big 2008 shows:)

First of all, a word of thanks to the *sponsors* - the blackmarketeers of DVDs - without whom I would not be able to watch the latest movies or TV series in the comfort of my home at a fraction of the cost.

And thanks to their sophisticated technology and know-how, these DVDs are crystal clear and they come with good English subtitles, audio options for many Asian languages and even special features for most. What more can you ask for?

Ya, I ought to be shot... but I am not going to get on the high horse :)

I have watched most of the contenders for the major awards and my take is this:

Slumdog Millionaire: Overrated. The plot is predictable yet unbelievable - is that an oxymoron? Not really. If you, like me, have grown up watching melodramas from Asian film-makers, particularly those from Hong Kong and Taiwan, you would recognise the same elements - once you take away the "Millionaire" subterfuge. Suffice to say, there is nothing new in this show for me. I find the show - contrived?

The Reader: The best movie of the lot. Movies about the holocaust tend examine the extremes of human nature - from the diabolical to the heroic - but this show focuses on the question of morality, a topic which always intrigues me. Kate Winslet and David Kross (who is NOT the guy from Narnia) are both very good.

Revolutionary Road: Powerful - and emotionally draining. I find the notion of "hopeless emptiness" in the show - with the emphasis on the "hopeless" part - depressing. This is not a feel-good show, but it is a show that one will not forget easily. Kate Winslet thoroughly deserves the Golden Globe Best Actress for this show.

Milk: Stories about true public figures are always somewhat educational and I enjoyed the learning process. Gay rights continue to be a contentious issue that is divisive in most Asian societies but whichever side one is on, if we look at the show from the general angle of how a person can overcome overwheming odds, it is an inspiring show. Sean Penn is not easy on the eye (the reason why Son No 1 did not want to watch the show). But well, pretty boys seldom get to win the Oscar - just look at Tom Cruise nominated for 3, winner of none.

Doubt: Disappointing. Good acting notwithstanding, the entire show is really much ado about nothing. When I compare with the other show about nuns, "Agnes Of God", this show is paler than pale.

Frost/Nixon: Interesting perspective of another historical figure. Excellent acting by the entire cast. When anyone were to mention Richard Nixon now, I can only visualise the face of Frank Langella - who is incidentally my choice for Best Actor award.

Vicky Cristina Barcelona: So-so. Not much impression. Forgettable. Penelope Cruz was lucky to have garnered the Best Supporting Actress Award. I would have given it to Viola Davis from Doubt.

Rachel Getting Married: This is a heavy drama - make no mistake about it - it is certainly not My Best Friend's Wedding. Watch this show for the unconventional wedding ceremony and celebrations.

Changeling: Memorable and engaging show. Angelina Jolie is very watchable. I love the 1920's set design - the manual switchboards, trams, and T-Fords.

The Dark Knight: I am not a big fan of the superhero genre - but I must say this show is awesome. I'd like to think this is the thinking adult superhero show. Oh, the mind games played by the Joker are good. So is Heath Ledger.

The one biggie that I missed is The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button. For some reason, our regular DVD could not get a decent copy for us.

So there you are. My brief take on the movies of 2008. Comments welcomed :)

Belated Birthday Treat

Son No 3's birthday celebration ain't over yet!

Owing to our hectic schedules over the past 2 weeks, we have not had time to keep our promise to bring him to MegaKidz, the huge indoor playground at the Mid-Valley Megamall. It was to be his birthday treat. So yesterday, we finally made our way there. The children spent 4 hours there crawling through tunnels, sliding down the mega-slides and jumping at the bouncy castle. Hmm... it's a good way for them to expend all their excess energy :)


Good thing the place was located within the Megamall. Hubby and I left our maid, Siti, there with the children and had a pseudo-holiday - in mini-Singapore! We had lunch at the Food Junction, shopped at Robinson's and enjoyed coffee and kaya toast at the Killiney Kopitiam for tea, lol!

That night, we celebrated Siti's 26th birthday at home with pizza delivery and a cake (see below).


Well, I guess another to look at it is that we went to MegaKidz today to celebrate Siti's birthday!

First Taekwando Competition

Son No 1 went for his first taekwando competition yesterday. He has been attending taekwando lessons for more than two years and now holds the red belt, which is one grade below the black belt.

As this was his maiden competition, the aim was to get match experience. He was such a novice that he was still learning the rules and how to score points just before the match, lol!

To us, it was an eye-opener because we did not realise that it was such a popular sport. There were many serious competitors there - and we were like the most "recreational" type that you can find.

Son No 1 did not win his match but got the match experience that he needed and which would come in useful for future competitions.

After the match, Son No 1 complained that his jaw hurt - but as we reviewed the mini-video recording that we made, we could see that he gave as much as he got. His ego probably got more bruised in the process, but hey, don't forget it's The Climb -things can only get better from here!

Below left: Son No 1 waited for about 4 hours for his match
Below right: Son No 1 was the competitor in blue, executing a kick

Turning 6

So now my baby is 6 years old.

More than one well-wisher have wistfully reminded me to enjoy the children while they are young.

I know.... very soon, my baby will be in primary school and when that happens, he will enter a new phase of life.

What will I miss?

1. Someone who is still keen to tag along when I run my errands


2. Someone who skips in the carpark on the way to school


3. Someone who tells me all the details of what happened in class


4. Someone who calls me on the phone when I am not around


5. Someone who laughs out loud at his own lame jokes


6. Someone who laughs out loud at my own lame jokes


7. Someone who thinks I know everything and am the greatest


8. Someone who holds my hand tightly for comfort or security


9. Someone who helps me look at the world thru a child's eye


10. Someone who can be delighted by the simplest things - like an ice-cream or a sweet

But most of all, the 3 things I will miss:

1. Someone who welcomes my bear hugs and hugs me back tightly


2. Someone who still enjoys being kissed


3. Someone who murmurs softly, at the brink of falling asleep... "I love you the most."

Sigh....

A Low-Key Celebration

Son No 3 turned 6 yesterday.

In our family, we have traditionally celebrated the 6th birthday in a big way. Turning 6 is somewhat a milestone as it signifies the end of toddlerhood. When my two older boys turned 6, each of them had a birthday party at McDonald's. They invited their friends from their class and had loads of fun - the McDonald's way.

I wanted to keep the tradition and throw a McDonald's party for Son No 3. In fact, we discussed about it way back in February. But Son No 3 was not keen on the idea. I guess he is like me - he does not like to be in the limelight.

Not only that - but initially, Son No 3 did not even want to celebrate his birthday in school. I asked him many times whether he was sure about that because in his class, it is almost a norm for the class students to celebrate their birthdays in school. The birthday child will cut a cake and give a goody bag to each of the friends to bring home.

Who knows, to our surprise, at the very last minute, Son No 3 changed his mind and asked whether he could bring a cake to school. Maybe it's the excitement catching up with him finally.

So the night before his birthday saw me and my hubby scrambling to Mutiara Damansara to get a birthday cake large enough for his class of 18 students. We got the cake at 9 pm and did not have much choice (see above left). Luckily, I already had the goody bags packed earlier on and they were ready to go.

I went to his school for the celebration. Son No 2 also came along. It took place during their snack-time and was over in a jiffy.

Son No 3 was nervous and was not his normal self but I was glad that he at least made the effort to have the simple "do" in school.

That night, we had a simple dinner at our favourite family restaurant, Wok Hei. We bought another cake for our little home celebration and took some shots for the album. Hmm, this time, the birthday boy looked happier in the photos!

Real Living Differences

Based on 2008 estimates, Singapore's per capita income is 3.4X higher than that in Malaysia (2003: 2.7X). This significant difference in per capita income is unlikely to be eroded in a short time, whichever way the current economic storm blows and affects both countries.

Having been back in KL from Singapore for more than 2 years now, I am in a position to translate what that difference in per capita income really means to the general population.

At the macroscopic level, in terms of housing and infrastructure, this is evident even to first-time tourists. Once we cross the Causeway into Johor, it is a different world. The buildings are less gleaming, the roads have more potholes, the surroundings are less spick and span and the cars are no longer all spanking new, shiny and spotless. To a lesser extent, this description of JB also applies to KL.

What would be more interesting is to see at the microscopic level what the lower per capita income really equate to in the daily lives of the ordinary people.

For example, motorcyclists carrying their entire families on the motorcycle is not an uncommon sight - the father in front, holding a toddler in front of him, with his wife behind and perhaps 2 children squashed in between. My first reaction used to be to blame the irresponsible parents and after that, I would lament on the poor enforcement of the law. But now, on further reflection, I guess I can afford to be more sympathetic and recognise that some people may not have a lot of choices.

We see the same motorcyclists sometimes ferrying long poles or heavy equipment - why can't they take a taxi?! - and the answer is probably they cannot afford it. Although motorcyclists are the undisputed menace on the road (together with heavy trucks), I know that for some of them, it is their only form of transportation. It thus adds the pressure on me as a motorist to make sure that they are safe.

At the petrol station, I often see motorcyclists filling their petrol tanks only to as much as their pockets could afford. Thus, (on the right) the display shows a purchase of RM2 worth of petrol. That's less than SGD1! Well, at least, this motorcyclist can travel a little closer to his destination with his 1.11 litre of petrol.

Sometimes, workmen carry mobile phones - but they are still uncontactable. Why? Because they have no money to top up their pre-paid telephone cards. The phone is for showing-off only!

At the kedai runcit (sundry shop), the shopkeepers still sell cigarettes by the stick and colour pencils by the pencil. Apparently, not everyone can afford a box of cigarettes or a box of colour pencils. Note that we are talking about cigarettes here, not cigars, lol!

At the market, we find that the best vegetables and fish have been exported to our southern neighbour for the higher prices that they can fetch - as a result of which we end up buying produce that are not of the best variety. Imported goods are available but by local standards, they are out of reach to many ordinary people.

One phenomenon that we do not see here is declining birth rate. Many of the lower income Malays continue to have large families with an average or 4 or 5 children. When I give away my children's old clothes or toys to the general workers in the condominium, they are truly appreciative - and I can guess why.

Overall, what we have here in KL is really not too bad, considering that Malaysia is ranked 3rd in per capita income in South East Asia, after oil-rich Brunei and Singapore. In the world, Malaysia is ranked 58th while Singapore is at an incredible 7th position.

In fact, there are many students from African nations who come here for their tertiary education and are wowed by what they see. Most of the African nations presently occupy the bottom half of the per capita ranking table.

I do not mean to say that KL is a hardship posting - far from it! There are things that we can afford here that would be quite out of reach in Singapore because of the lower cost of living here. It's just that when comparisons are made, it is inevitable that there will be some areas in which Malaysia falls short.

As for me, having lived in Singapore for a quarter of a century, it did take a while for me to get localised again. The difficulty in adjustment is not due to the less affluent living conditions, but rather, a matter of difference in national culture. But that will be the topic of discussion for another day :)

The Climb

I remember when I was teaching an O level class some years ago, we would choose some motivational songs to sing together, especially when the exams were nearing and the going got tough. Two of those that we liked were Diana Ross's "If We Hold On Together" and Mariah Carey's "Hero" .

Recently, I heard this song, "The Climb" by Miley Cyrus and would deem this song to be the most appropriate yet. The lyrics are really meaningful and encouraging. Check it out - I have supplied the lyrics after the video:



I can almost see it
That dream I am dreaming
But there's a voice inside my head saying
"You'll never reach it"

Every step I'm taking
Every move I make feels
Lost with no direction
My faith is shaking

But I gotta keep trying
Gotta keep my head held high

There's always gonna be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always gonna be an uphill battle
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose

Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb

The struggles I'm facing
The chances I'm taking
Sometimes might knock me down
But no, I'm not breaking

I may not know it
But these are the moments that
I'm gonna remember most, yeah
Just gotta keep going

And I, I got to be strong
Just keep pushing on

Piracy Reigns

Over the past 2 weeks, Son No 1 and I have visited several shopping malls, looking for a new Wii game.

Son No 1 was having his Easter break and was looking forward to a new Wii game. We did not have plans to go anywhere for the holidays because the two younger boys were still having school. The 3 boys follow different school calendars and that make it difficult for us to plan vacations. In fact, their holidays do not coincide until December.

Anyway, while traipsing from one shop to another, I was reminded once again how rampant piracy was in this part of the world. Most of the game-shops stock only pirated Wii games. I guess that is where the demand lies. The handful of shops that carry the original games had only token titles.

We do not stand on moral high ground on this issue and frankly, would have bought the pirated games... if only we could play them on our console. But we made the mistake (?) of purchasing a Wii console that was not "cracked". Only the "cracked" type of console could play the pirated versions of the game.

We already knew the difference when we chose to buy the original Wii console. We knew that the original Wii console could play only original Wii games, which cost substantially more, but this factor did not figure prominently in our purchasing decision as it was never our intention to buy a lot of Wii games - it would be too distracting for the children.

Furthermore, we thought we should be assured of a continual stream of games from the original creators while there was no such assurance from the pirates. If the pirates faced a massive crackdown, there would be no more pirated games and the "cracked" console would be rendered useless. As the original and the "cracked" consoles cost about the same, it seemed to make sense at that time to buy the original console.

But we have underestimated the pirates. They truly have cornered the entire market here. So, although we were willing to pay 20 to 30 times more for the original games, we could not lay our hands on the titles that we wanted. The shops were just not selling them. The pirates have won convincingly.

The last few original games that we bought were from Singapore and we were about to send an SOS to our relatives there to courier to us the original games. But in the end, Son No 1 chose a title, that was not his first choice - but was a first-shooter game nevertheless - and settled for that. I guess it was partly due to what is known in the marketing world as buyers' fatigue. He was just too tired to go round shopping any more and just wanted to get over with it.

And so what is the dubious moral of the story? If we can't beat them, join them??? *Sigh*

The Worker Is King

This morning, the check-out cashier at the Carrefour hypermart made a mistake while scanning the very last item in my trolley.

Not unusual. I pointed out the error to her, thinking that all she needed to do was to reverse the item and rectify the error. But nope, she asked me to pay first, and seek the refund of about RM6 from the Return Counter.

Now, why should I do that? It would be a waste of my time. The Return Counter was at the other end of the store, was frequently understaffed and I did not know whether there was a queue there. I insisted that the cashier reversed the item on the spot - it was after all quite a simple task.

And so the cashier reluctantly tried to reverse it. But, alamak, try as she would, she couldn't do it. She just did not know how to undo the error.

Worker incompetence is not uncommon here...so that's not the point of my story.

To continue with the story, the cashier, a young Malay girl, then called her supervisor and explained the situation to him. The supervisor was a little better in customer service - he greeted me with a smile and apologised to me - and then proceeded to show the cashier how to reverse the item.

And then, HE got stuck, lol! He was also unable to reverse the transaction. In fact, the more the both of them tried, the worse the situation became.

Well, that's also not the point of my story. As I said, worker incompetence is something that one got used to after a while.

So, to solve the problem, the supervisor told the cashier to void all the purchases - and re-scan ALL the items in my trolley.

Dismay filled the cashier's face. I can understand why. Since I was doing my weekly grocery shopping for a family of 6, including 3 growing boys, you can imagine what a load of shopping I had and how much unnecessary work that translated to - unloading and reloading.

Nevertheless, instead of being apologetic for taking up MY time, the cashier then showed a BLACK face to both me and the supervisor - although the supervisor did his best to assist her in the re-scanning process. The cashier had neatly forgotten that it was her mistake that led to all this. Well, I couldn't care less about her attitude - I just watched the digital check-out display like a hawk to make sure that she did not make any errors this time.

And THIS is the point of my story - that the Worker Is King here. Not the customer. Not the employer or supervisor. In fact, both the customer and the employer have to live with the worker's atittude.

The lower level workers, especially, often show this couldn't-care-less attitude. It is as if they have nothing to lose for poor performance and nothing to gain for good performance. So why perform? Some of the workers here work in a perpetual slow-motion mode - they talk slowly, walk slowly, react slowly, stare blankly when you talk. My mother, a true Type A personality, is so used to the super-efficiency of Singaporean workers that she never fails to grumble about the workers here each time she comes back for visits. She buay-tahan:)

The government and the law also tend to favour the workers. It is not easy to fire a worker - many employers have been brought to court on the grounds of unfair dismissal and it is the onus of the employer to show negligence or non-performance of the worker. This is not easy to prove in court because workers can do the bare minimum with the poorest of attitudes and still, they would be deemed to have carried out their job functions. The courts tend to favour the workers when in doubt. I can see how frustrating it can be to be an employer here.

As for me, the customer, I have gotten used to all this. Believe me, I was not agitated this morning despite being held up for 20 minutes, which caused me to be late picking Son No 3 from school. We just have to accept this is how things are. *Peace*

My Son, The Blogger

Hey, there's another blogger in the family!

Son No 2 has been asking me to make a blog for him for weeks. He has seen me blogging and he seems fascinated by the process. He has never really read what I have written - which is a bit too long-winded for him - but he has an idea what blogging is about. The idea of writing on his favourite subjects enthuses him.

I did not take him seriously at first and used my normal delaying tactics to avoid creating a blog for him. I did not want him to start something and then abandon it.

But he was persistent, as only 8-year-old little boys can be.

So finally, last weekend, I sat down with him and together, we set up the blogger account. I gave him some ideas how he could name his blog and he chose the name, Jian's Diary. I like the simple title of his blog. He chose the template and soon, he was writing his first post. Hmm... it looks like he's going to take away my blog traffic, since we are likely to have the same target readers, but never mind!

Over the past three days, Son No 2 has written 6 posts. Not bad at all :) The story ideas are all his own. I step in to correct some grammatical and spelling errors - though as far as possible, I try not to change too many things or alter the flavour.

But I do take this as an opportunity to hone Son No 2's writing skills. I would ask him questions like, "So how do you feel?" or "What did you see?" - to help him in the writing process. From my experience with Son No 1, boys tend to be very focused on action when they write ("they did this, they did that") and not enough on the feelings or senses. I would like Son No 2 to be more perceptive in that way.

Well, it is really very easy to set up a blog, but it is the maintenance that is going to be tough - it does require considerable discipline, fortitude and a love for writing. There are millions of blogs in the world of which only a fraction are active. The rest end up as litter in the blogosphere.

Anyway, I am just glad that Son No 2 is enjoying himself now.

If by chance, he discovers that he has a love for writing, that will be a real bonus :)

Learning Mandarin

Son No 3's favourite subject in school is ... *gasp*.... Mandarin!

No kidding.

It's totally unexpected because he is immersed in an English-speaking environment - we speak mainly English at home, his teachers speak mainly English in school, he watches only English TV shows and he plays computer games that are written in English.

At the beginning of last year, Son No 3 told me earnestly that all the boys and girls in his class were English - I was puzzled because I knew that was so-not true. His class has a good mix of Malays, South Asians and Chinese.

Son No 3 also said he was an English boy. An English boy?!!

I then realised what led to his confusion was that in the construct of his world, there was no such concept as race or ethnicity. His classmates speak English, and so they must be English. Similarly, he speaks English and that's why he is an English boy, lol! Children are truly colour-blind.

When I explained to him that he is actually a Chinese boy, he became very motivated to learn Mandarin. He reckons because he is a Chinese boy, he must know Chinese (Mandarin)! He came up with that conclusion all by himself - and that's the truth, I did not say anything to that effect :)

There may be other reasons why Son No 3 likes learning Mandarin. For one, he is well ahead of his classmates in the language and so it makes him feel good. Mandarin is a compulsory subject in his school and many of his classmates are disadvantaged because they are non-Chinese. He has a natural advantage because we do try to speak a smattering of Mandarin at home now, I can coach him a little in the subject and additionally, Son No 3 goes for Chinese enrichment classes.

The other reason why he likes Mandarin could be because the Mandarin teacher is very strict and makes them do a lot of writing - and that is something that he likes! Son No 3 is a pretty serious learner, lol!

There is also a niggling suspicion that he wants to learn Mandarin because he has a strong kiasu streak. He feels left out when his brothers and I talk about or in Mandarin and he desperately wants to participate. He constantly sets his second brother as the benchmark and so, he needs to be good at Mandarin.

All in all, this is a happy situation to be in.

When Son No 3's friend gave him a diary with a lock, he started keeping a "journal" - in Mandarin! (See picture above) Now, he can only write simple sentences, but nevertheless, it is a good start.

What A Wonderful World

Exactly one year ago, Son No 1 complained that he was not able to read clearly what his teachers wrote on the white board. We brought him to the optometrist and it was found that he had slight myopia (around 100). Although the optometrist thought he did not really need glasses, we made a pair for him anyway.

Son No 1 only wore his glasses during lessons. At first, we just let it be. But since late last year, we realised that his vision had deteriorated somewhat. But still, he wouldn't wear his glasses regularly. It became frustrating talking to him because he was literally blur. His world has shrunk to less than 20 feet in radius around him.

Why didn't he want to wear his glasses? In one word - vanity.

It is something that I find hard to understand. This is what I told him - that the world is a beautiful place and God has given him this wonderful gift of sight and it is such a pity that he is not using this gift fully. I would be distressed if I see someone walking to me and I cannot see the face - should I smile or not? I wouldn't want to miss out on interesting things happening around me that others talked about. And I wouldn't want to see trees as blobs of green - I want to appreciate every single leaf.

I was not just saying all that to make a point. I really meant it. My sight is very precious to me. In fact, now that I am getting older, my biggest complaint is that I am not able to read well. Yes, long-sightedness has caught up with me and it is such an inconvenience.

Anyway, Son No 1 finally changed the lens to his spectacles today. His myopia had gone up from around 100 to 200. And today, he has started wearing his glasses more than usual. From his excited exclamations about the ordinary things around him, one might be forgiven if one thought he was someone learning to see for the first time.

Yes, dear, it is a wonderful world.....

I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.

The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people going by
I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do
They're really saying I love you.

I hear babies crying, I watch them grow
They'll learn much more than I'll never know
And I think to myself what a wonderful world
Yes I think to myself what a wonderful world.

All I Want For Christmas...

Son 2 lost both his upper incisors over the past 2 weeks and is darn proud about it.

Both teeth dropped off without fuss or fanfare, tears or hysterics.

I'm glad my boys are stoical about such things :)

Speech & Drama Class

When I went to pick up Son No 3 from his Speech & Drama class today, he was the first to leave again. He said he wanted to leave quickly because "we were not learning anything!"

Son No 3 has been attending the after-school enrichment class for 2 months already and well... it's just not his cup of tea.

From what he told me, their activities sounded fun - so far, they had role-played shoppers and shop-keepers, king & queen with their soldiers, dirty but hard-working farmers, pirates and so on. Sometimes, he came back with paint on his face - which is something that he did not like. He agrees that the activities can be fun but still, "we were not learning anything!"

Hmm, that's an interesting point of discussion from this young mind - so what constitutes learning? Sitting down, reading and writing? We have chosen this pre-school because we do not want him to get too stifled in a rigid learning environment - he will have plenty of that when he enters primary school.

And we carefully chose Speech & Drama for his enrichment so that he will have the chance to get out of his comfort zone. Son No 3 is slow to warm to new people and new situations - although he can be very mischievous with people whom he knows well (his long-suffering cousin sister can attest to it!) Speech & Drama classes seem ideal.

He may not like the classes much, but already, he is showing signs that he is getting used to them. In the beginning, he would be quite quiet after each session, as if a lot of energy has been drained from him. Nowadays, the classes do not affect him so.

I am convinced in the long run, something good will come out of it, though it might be nothing tangible. That's what experiential learning is all about.

Three Is Fun!!!

Note: For all who are watching from the office, be reminded that you need to switch on the sound to hear the audio.... :)

12 Going On 13

Today, Son No 1 joined his classmates for a hang-out at Mid-Valley for the entire afternoon. Note that "hang-out" is the politically-correct term - not an outing, a gathering or an excursion, all of which sounded too "schoolish", so I was told.

The classmates have been planning this hang-out for weeks, chatting almost every night over Facebook or MSN - where to go, what to do, which day should they go. You may wonder, since they see one another in school everyday, why don't they just talk about it in school, but ah, that's not how young people communicate nowadays. I have seen youngsters sitting around the table, "talking" to each other on Facebook, lol!

This was a hang-out that Son No 1 almost missed. Based on some earlier plans that we had, our whole family should be in Singapore today. I told him well in advance of our plans so that he could canvass among his friends not to have the hang-out today, but still, the majority voted for today. When the voting results came out, Son No 1 hid his disappointment well - but he knew his priorities - we were going to Singapore for Qing Ming - and that was something that was non-bargainable. I am proud of his maturity over this clash.

Then, by a stroke of luck, our plans unexpectedly changed and we were back in KL yesterday, enabling him to make it for the hang-out in the end.

Son No 1 was the first to arrive for the 11:30am appointment time. He was already all dressed up and ready to go by 10am, which was pretty unusual - his penchant for last-minute preparation is legendary. Unfortunately, his friends were tardy. We waited there with him for half an hour before going off and only 3 other boys had arrived. The girls were all going to be late - what a shame. But in the end, they all made it and they went bowling, had McDonald's and watched a movie together. You know, basically hanging out....

My firstborn has grown up much this past one year. His voice has deepened and he is more outgoing. Clothes and hair gel are now on his shopping list and black suddenly became a favourite colour. He is both more considerate and more self-centered, it depends. He is both the nurturing brother and the bullying brother, rolled into one. He is both more chatty and more silent, depending. Like the weather, his taste and predilection can change overnight.

Ya, it's the onset of puberty. There are both positives and negatives associated with this adolescent period. I can't help but notice the growing maturity in thoughts and speech in my firstborn. Nevertheless, the negatives have not escaped my dear son. Mood swings are more common now. For mild moodiness, I would just ignore it. I may roll my eyes, or pass a sarcastic remark of my own, or grumble to my spouse, but largely, I can understand it and would put it down to hormones.

However, when it comes to excessive displays of temper or moodiness, I will not condone it. Hormones or not. While I may understand the scientific basis of the biological response, it is something else if we let such hormones control or take over our lives. Humans are blessed with the faculty to think and this is what sets us apart from other animals. We can choose how to behave and hormones should never be used as an excuse.

Just like my son facing uncharted waters as he enters his teenage years in two months' time, I face my own virgin territories as I challenge myself to remain an effective, relevant parent as my child grows. I have never been a mom to one who is at the brink of adolescence before. Nevertheless, whether it's 2 going on 3, 12 going on 13, or 22 going on 23, the same basic principles should apply to make it work: Love, respect, honesty - from both sides.

Baby, I think we should do fine.

Qing Ming

Yesterday, my hubby and I, together with the 3 boys, made an overnight trip to Johor Bahru, my hubby's hometown, some 300 km away. We were observing Qing Ming, which is the Chinese equivalent to All Souls' Day. Traditionally, the English translation of Qing Ming was Tomb-Sweeping Day, an important day in the Chinese calendar where families gather to commemorate the departed in their ancestry tree.

In Son No 2's Chinese school, Qing Ming is a school holiday. In general, schools in Malaysia have 3 discretionary holidays, and I am glad that the Chinese vernacular schools here have chosen to use one of those discretionary holidays for Qing Ming. It signifies the Chinese community's deeply committed values of filial piety and remembering roots.

For the first time, I was in charge of buying all the things that were traditionally used for such visits to the grave. My sister-in-law was ill and we were on our own this time.

Now, I am not a believer of burning joss sticks and paper effigy or things like that and I do not believe that burning such things will eventually reach the intended recipients. [Interestingly, I told the children we were going to "visit" grandma and grandpa's graves while my hubby told them we were going to "pray" to grandma and grandpa - I noticed the difference in terminology - but I wonder whether the children realised the difference.]

But I carried out my duty to shop for joss sticks, candles and stuff on my spouse's behalf and I did the best I could. I was amused that nowadays, besides the mansions, maids and mobile phones, the paper effigy merchants actually stocked LV handbags, birds' nests and even lace lingeries! The departed must be having a really rocking time down (or up) there. On the other hand, it was sad that school uniforms were also available for children who had met untimely deaths.

Anyway, this was the first time that Son No 2 and Son No 3 followed the rest of us to visit the columbarium where both their paternal grandparents rested. Unsurprisingly, they had plenty of questions. When we showed them the photos of their grandma and grandpa, Son No 3 was pretty insistent that he wanted to see them (as in physically), although he knew they were dead. I don't think he really understood what death meant.

Both of them were intrigued by the burning of the hellnotes. Why was it that when the money was burnt, the money would go to dead people? Well, I am glad they were logical thinkers! I told them it was just a traditional belief - I actually used the word "traditional" - lol, trying to hide behind big words again. But they were smart - they knew what I meant. Oh, you mean, it is like play-pretend??? Yes, something like that.

After that, Son No 3 asked why do dead people need money? Aha, good question. I told him, not really.... and before I could continue, Son No 3 answered his own question. Oh yes, he forgot, it was just pretend.

Son No 1 made an interesting observation of his own - the hellnotes had the same serial numbers! Trust him to be so aware of numbers!

The next question the younger boys asked was where did dead people go? I told them honestly, we really don't know - and that there were some things that people do not know, even when they became adults. I know it would be easy to tell him that dead people went to heaven, but there are some things that I think they would have to search and find answers for themselves.

Then came the difficult part - when they asked, after dead people were buried, what happened to the bodies underground. I remember they have asked this before when their pet hamster died. I told them the bodies would disintegrate. Disintegrate meant decay. In the end, the bodies would become like the soil again. Oh, they asked, is it like they will disappear....? Ya, something like that. Son No 3 then asked would worms come out from their bodies. Well, I think enough is enough! Surely we do not need to go to the gory details.

It was a quick and tiring overnight trip. But I am of the view that Qing Ming is a good and meaningful Chinese tradition. I look at it devoid of religious implications and I intend to carry on this tradition within my family. Now my children are young but looking into the future, it should provide yet another opportunity for busy family members to make time to get together and reflect on their common past. It would be a good way to refresh and renew ties.