Today marks the start of the Beijing Olympics. It is also my younger sister's X2nd birthday. I told her with the rapid advancement of medical science, she may yet be celebrating another 08-08-08 birthday in a century's time!
Anyway, the Olympic Games has always held special memories for me since 12 years ago. Then, the 1996 Olympics Games was held at Atlanta and it was the only Games where I got to watch almost all the events, even those which were telecasted past midnight.
At that time, I was on maternity leave with my firstborn. Son No 1 had bouts of colic and to a newbie mom, it was distressing. To the uninitiated, colic is characterised by unexplained cries by infants at certain times of the day, normally night time. No one really knows the reason for it - though the Chinese tend to attribute it to "wind". It will go away after a period of time.
So, to pacify the crying child, I would cradle him to sleep close to my chest in the recliner chair. He seemed to be comforted by the warmth and maybe the mother's heartbeat and would then fall asleep. In the quiet of the night while he laid sleeping, I was glad to be entertained by the Games athletes - whose names have blurred in my memory now. It was a games about "The Power of the Dream" by Celine Dion and one where the legendary Mohammad Ali lit the Olympics torch.
Son No 1 knows this story well. He first heard it during the 2000 Sydney Olympics, again during the 2004 Athens Olympics and now in the 2008 Beijing Olympics. In time to come, I hope it becomes a story for him to tell to his children every four years.
Friday, 8 August 2008
Thursday, 7 August 2008
Like Mother, Like Son
Couldn't resist taking this picture. It has always been my habit to do some reading while having my breakfast, lunch or tea. Son No 3 has somehow picked up this habit as well! Here he is, during lunch today, with his favourite Pokemon book.
He's such a sweetie when it comes to indulging mummy's requests to take photos.
Tuesday, 5 August 2008
Blackie - RIP
Blackie, one of our two pet hamsters, passed away suddenly this afternoon. Time of death: around 4 pm. Cause: Unknown.
We broke the news to the children just before dinner. They took it matter-of-factly. They did wonder why she died but we have no answer. Son No 1 started to count the number of pet deaths so far and this included 2 terrapins and >12 fishes. They remembered that the first terrapin which died was buried near the barbeque pit at Bishan.
We decided to bury Blackie in the grounds of the condominium. There was no ceremony or anything like that. We found a suitable spot, dug a deep enough hole and said bye-bye to Blackie.
On the way up in the lift, Son No 3 asked why we needed to bury Blackie. I said something about the Nitrogen Cycle and that its decomposition will provide food for the plants. Oh well, I am sure he did not understand it but sometimes I do resort to hiding behind scientific explanations because to simplify things can make things real complex. Go figure.
We broke the news to the children just before dinner. They took it matter-of-factly. They did wonder why she died but we have no answer. Son No 1 started to count the number of pet deaths so far and this included 2 terrapins and >12 fishes. They remembered that the first terrapin which died was buried near the barbeque pit at Bishan.
We decided to bury Blackie in the grounds of the condominium. There was no ceremony or anything like that. We found a suitable spot, dug a deep enough hole and said bye-bye to Blackie.
On the way up in the lift, Son No 3 asked why we needed to bury Blackie. I said something about the Nitrogen Cycle and that its decomposition will provide food for the plants. Oh well, I am sure he did not understand it but sometimes I do resort to hiding behind scientific explanations because to simplify things can make things real complex. Go figure.
Monday, 4 August 2008
A Mother's Love
"I love you, mummy."
"I love you too."
"I love you very much."
"I love you very much too."
"I love you the most."
"... I love you very much too."
The above dialogue is played out almost every night with my two younger boys before their bedtime. I am most touched when they look into my eyes and tell me they love me the most... not sure if I am being laid a trap here because I cannot say the same that I love either of them the most... I have to be very careful not to give the idea that I love one of my boys more than the others.
In fact, I would hesitate to say that I love them equally. What is true is that I love each of them deeply but there is no way to quantify or prove that the love for them is equal.
So I never say, "You are all the same and I love you all the same."
Instead I say, "You are all different and I love each of you in a special way."
"I love you too."
"I love you very much."
"I love you very much too."
"I love you the most."
"... I love you very much too."
The above dialogue is played out almost every night with my two younger boys before their bedtime. I am most touched when they look into my eyes and tell me they love me the most... not sure if I am being laid a trap here because I cannot say the same that I love either of them the most... I have to be very careful not to give the idea that I love one of my boys more than the others.
In fact, I would hesitate to say that I love them equally. What is true is that I love each of them deeply but there is no way to quantify or prove that the love for them is equal.
So I never say, "You are all the same and I love you all the same."
Instead I say, "You are all different and I love each of you in a special way."
Sunday, 3 August 2008
Picnic and Pancake
This morning, we had a picnic by the waterfall. Which waterfall? Here, right at our condominium!
Now, we are at the poolside again. The children are frolicking around, the Significant Other is reading a book and I am blogging by the pool.... cool, eh? Enjoy the pictures!
The two younger boys have been clamouring for a picnic and were thrilled by just the mention of the word "picnic". I prepared all the ingredients deemed necessary for a picnic, namely a picnic basket, a straw mat for sitting on the ground, lots of food and drinks. The location was the least important factor.
Later in the day, Son No 1 made pancakes for us. Son No 1 enjoys cooking. Since he was about 9 years old, he has been popping corn, boiling edamame and making glutinous rice balls (not the frozen variety, puh-leez.. the real thing from rice flour!). He also likes to make his own sunny side-up. Earlier this year, he made sushi for us.
Say No To Fairy Tales
Sons Nos 2 & 3 heard the fairy tale stories of Snow White and Cinderella for the first time last week.
We were passing a row of bridal shops in SS2 when I chanced upon an ornate oval mirror through the shop window. I remarked, "Ha, that looks like it came straight from Snow White! Mirror, mirror, on the wall....!" Son No 2 promptly asked, "Who is Snow White?"
Aw shucks, I then remembered that my children were pretty ignorant when it came to fairy tales. It was deliberate. I did not want to fill my children's heads with the values perpetuated by these fairy tales which are very questionable. I'd rather tell/read them stories like Topsy and Tim, who share their daily experiences like taking the train/aeroplane, going to the hospital or having a pet. Now that they are older, I guess they would need to know, lest they appear ignorant in front of their classmates and teachers.
So, that night, before bedtime, I told them the story of Snow White. The first question was "What is a stepmother?" Good, we need to paint all stepmothers black. "What is 'fairest'?" Now we need to glamorise beauty. Well, at least, the hunter who let Snow White escape showed true compassion, as did the seven dwarfs. The part about the Prince coming to save Snow White from death? What can I say - sigh. I ended my story with the traditional line, "... and they lived happily ever after. The End." Sigh of relief.
But wait, my children have one last question, "What happened to the Queen?" Err... I really don't know. Struck by lightning or similar violent death - as due justice for evil deeds - meted out by an all-powerful 'unknown'? Ya, that will scare them no end.
The next night, they asked for another fairy tale. OK, the magic mirror and the seven dwarfs did lend some enchantment to the sordid tale. Well, to continue their education on fairy tales, I went on to tell them the story of Cinderella. Another stepmother story. It started well enough with the appearance of the fairy godmother but by the time we talked about the ball (ya, you guessed it, what is the ball?), dancing and glass slippers, they were positively bored.
There were no more requests for fairy tales after that. The next night, we were back to reading about animals.
We were passing a row of bridal shops in SS2 when I chanced upon an ornate oval mirror through the shop window. I remarked, "Ha, that looks like it came straight from Snow White! Mirror, mirror, on the wall....!" Son No 2 promptly asked, "Who is Snow White?"
Aw shucks, I then remembered that my children were pretty ignorant when it came to fairy tales. It was deliberate. I did not want to fill my children's heads with the values perpetuated by these fairy tales which are very questionable. I'd rather tell/read them stories like Topsy and Tim, who share their daily experiences like taking the train/aeroplane, going to the hospital or having a pet. Now that they are older, I guess they would need to know, lest they appear ignorant in front of their classmates and teachers.
So, that night, before bedtime, I told them the story of Snow White. The first question was "What is a stepmother?" Good, we need to paint all stepmothers black. "What is 'fairest'?" Now we need to glamorise beauty. Well, at least, the hunter who let Snow White escape showed true compassion, as did the seven dwarfs. The part about the Prince coming to save Snow White from death? What can I say - sigh. I ended my story with the traditional line, "... and they lived happily ever after. The End." Sigh of relief.
But wait, my children have one last question, "What happened to the Queen?" Err... I really don't know. Struck by lightning or similar violent death - as due justice for evil deeds - meted out by an all-powerful 'unknown'? Ya, that will scare them no end.
The next night, they asked for another fairy tale. OK, the magic mirror and the seven dwarfs did lend some enchantment to the sordid tale. Well, to continue their education on fairy tales, I went on to tell them the story of Cinderella. Another stepmother story. It started well enough with the appearance of the fairy godmother but by the time we talked about the ball (ya, you guessed it, what is the ball?), dancing and glass slippers, they were positively bored.
There were no more requests for fairy tales after that. The next night, we were back to reading about animals.
Friday, 1 August 2008
My Work-In-Progress
Perhaps I should re-name my blog "My Work-In-Progress".
Because my three sons are my work-in-progress (WIP). It may be a quaint way of looking at things but blame it on my business background! The transformation activity, from raw material (ya, egg and sperm) to finished goods, takes easily 20+ years and the scary thing is we are given only one chance to get it right. If I had done a bad job as a parent, I wouldn't know it until they are grown-ups. There may be interim warning signs, and I sincerely hope these will not go unnoticed, but what if it is too late? This business that I am in is indeed a high-risk business!
Two obvious questions come to mind:
The second question brings to mind the speech given by my eldest brother during the wedding reception of his only daughter. He described his daughter (my niece) as kind and considerate, putting others before self. And how proud he and his wife were that she had turned out that way. Now that was a beautiful speech. And indeed, the "finished goods" should be the whole person, the good person, the moral person. That should be the whole point.
Often, I feel kind of envious of people with grown-up children - they are able to see the results of their labour. I hope they like what they see... because their children is a reflection of themselves.
I wonder what I will see in time to come...
Because my three sons are my work-in-progress (WIP). It may be a quaint way of looking at things but blame it on my business background! The transformation activity, from raw material (ya, egg and sperm) to finished goods, takes easily 20+ years and the scary thing is we are given only one chance to get it right. If I had done a bad job as a parent, I wouldn't know it until they are grown-ups. There may be interim warning signs, and I sincerely hope these will not go unnoticed, but what if it is too late? This business that I am in is indeed a high-risk business!
Two obvious questions come to mind:
- when is the point that we can declare that the goods are "finished" and
- what do we hope the finished product to be?
The second question brings to mind the speech given by my eldest brother during the wedding reception of his only daughter. He described his daughter (my niece) as kind and considerate, putting others before self. And how proud he and his wife were that she had turned out that way. Now that was a beautiful speech. And indeed, the "finished goods" should be the whole person, the good person, the moral person. That should be the whole point.
Often, I feel kind of envious of people with grown-up children - they are able to see the results of their labour. I hope they like what they see... because their children is a reflection of themselves.
I wonder what I will see in time to come...
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