Battle With Mosquitoes

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

Why, I asked, taken by surprise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sigh! When will this battle with mosquitoes end?

Happy Child

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

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


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

Class: White Roses 2
Teacher: Teacher Rita

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

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

Mooncake Festival

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

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

Chicken Soup For Moms

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

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

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

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

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

Ya, that last paragraph is from Chicken Soup.

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

Mission Grow

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

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

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

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

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

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

Snippets

The Worm And The Egg

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

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

The Backstage Of The Shopping Center

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

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

True Bred and Learner Malaysians

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

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

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

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

Don't Sweat The Small Stuff

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

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

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

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

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

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