30 May 2014
A mother's reward
Today, during my usual breakfast with Dad and The Bubs, Dad was looking after her while I trotted off to buy some food. My dad turned to her and asked "Where's mummy?" According to him, she started looking around, saying "Where's mummy?" and when my dad pointed out where I was, she giggled and said to herself "I love mummy."
17 February 2014
Eighteen months old.
The Bubs is one and a half years old today, and I shall mark the occasion by penning down some thoughts about parenting before the time passes and slips through my fingertips.
***
My dearest baby girl,
How time flies! 18 months ago, I became a parent for the very first time. I wasn't sure if I could love someone I've never met face-to-face before - ultrasounds didn't count. Would you have your daddy's eyes and my toes? Would you have a sense of humour I could relate to? Would I genuinely like you and would I find you adorable? I mean, I know I HAVE to love you; it's the socially acceptable parent-y thing to do.
I also didn't know what kind of person you are, besides the fact that you liked to kick my rib cage during the day and that you did belly flips whenever I heard applause in my surroundings. I was also hardly interested in babies; kittens were cuter by far than babies in my book.
"I'm afraid I won't love my baby," I confided in The Hubs more than once.
When you first popped out, I heard a loud loud cry and thanked God that you were healthy. After the necessary measurements and weighing, the nurses pushed us into our room where we could finally rest after a gruelling and intense six hours.
As I drifted off to sleep, you cried loudly and inconsolably. It must have been really disconcerting, all the bright lights and strange smells. Your daddy placed you next to me and I put my arm around your tiny 3.05kg frame. For the first time, you slept next to me instead of inside of me. And for the first time, I experienced the unpredictable sleep cycle of an infant. We would drift off, grateful for the much needed rest, and you would cry out piteously. No matter how bone tired we were, your needs had to come first; all the time, any time. The world as we knew it screeched to a halt and unnaturally, awkwardly started arranging around your needs, one sleep deprived day at a time.
When did I start having those fuzzy gushy loving feelings about you? I can't put a specific moment to it, it crept up on me and swallowed me whole when I was not looking. Your dad proclaimed his effusive and enthusiastic adoration for you much earlier than I. When he gushed about how much, how very very much he adored you, I said "Huh. Sure." It was not that I didn't like you nor that I didn't care, far from it; I just was not "headily in love" nor "hopelessly infatuated" as other mothers seemed to be.
I didn't enjoy changing the bedsheets each time your poop overflowed from your diapers, but I would do it anyway with nary a frown. I didn't like the long time I took to recover from the birth process and the backaches that never went away, but that I accepted too, without any negativity. I also didn't know what to say to you or how to do the whole baby talk thing when you looked at me and I looked at you. Conversations were stilted and one-sided. "I love you, sweetheart", I said, trying the sound of my words as I waited for my heart to catch up with the emotions that the words promised.
But one thing I always knew even if I didn't always feel it - you are beyond precious. Off the charts. Nothing, no accomplishment, no accolades, can compare to how very precious you are.
You are so precious that I would go through the birthing process even though I had no idea how someone so big could exit my body into the world without causing serious pain and injury to the vessel. You are so precious that two selfish bums would put aside sleep and sanity to tend to your discomforts, real or imagined. You are so precious that anything that hurts you, hurts us too.
My heart melted when you smiled your first smile at me, and whenever you giggled our hearts would sing. But it was one day when you were several months old and sleeping peacefully that I looked upon you, that my heart just welled up with indescribable joy and love and it continued to overflow into my eyes and I cried, knowing that I love you with all my heart.
And I realised, this is but a poor copy of the way God loves us. How humbling, how comforting, how heart-breaking. Truly, to love another person is to see the face of God.
My dearest baby girl, we thank God from the bottom of our hearts for the precious gift that you are.
Are you considered a toddler now that you have gone past 18months?
Are you going to be a teenager in a blink of an eye?
Will you soon be taller, stronger, and smarter than me?
No matter how big you grow though, one thing's for sure.
You are always our dearest baby girl. The one whose poop once overflowed from her diaper onto the floor of a cafe. But that's a story for when we want to embarrass you in front of your friends next time.
***
My dearest baby girl,
How time flies! 18 months ago, I became a parent for the very first time. I wasn't sure if I could love someone I've never met face-to-face before - ultrasounds didn't count. Would you have your daddy's eyes and my toes? Would you have a sense of humour I could relate to? Would I genuinely like you and would I find you adorable? I mean, I know I HAVE to love you; it's the socially acceptable parent-y thing to do.
I also didn't know what kind of person you are, besides the fact that you liked to kick my rib cage during the day and that you did belly flips whenever I heard applause in my surroundings. I was also hardly interested in babies; kittens were cuter by far than babies in my book.
"I'm afraid I won't love my baby," I confided in The Hubs more than once.
When you first popped out, I heard a loud loud cry and thanked God that you were healthy. After the necessary measurements and weighing, the nurses pushed us into our room where we could finally rest after a gruelling and intense six hours.
As I drifted off to sleep, you cried loudly and inconsolably. It must have been really disconcerting, all the bright lights and strange smells. Your daddy placed you next to me and I put my arm around your tiny 3.05kg frame. For the first time, you slept next to me instead of inside of me. And for the first time, I experienced the unpredictable sleep cycle of an infant. We would drift off, grateful for the much needed rest, and you would cry out piteously. No matter how bone tired we were, your needs had to come first; all the time, any time. The world as we knew it screeched to a halt and unnaturally, awkwardly started arranging around your needs, one sleep deprived day at a time.
When did I start having those fuzzy gushy loving feelings about you? I can't put a specific moment to it, it crept up on me and swallowed me whole when I was not looking. Your dad proclaimed his effusive and enthusiastic adoration for you much earlier than I. When he gushed about how much, how very very much he adored you, I said "Huh. Sure." It was not that I didn't like you nor that I didn't care, far from it; I just was not "headily in love" nor "hopelessly infatuated" as other mothers seemed to be.
I didn't enjoy changing the bedsheets each time your poop overflowed from your diapers, but I would do it anyway with nary a frown. I didn't like the long time I took to recover from the birth process and the backaches that never went away, but that I accepted too, without any negativity. I also didn't know what to say to you or how to do the whole baby talk thing when you looked at me and I looked at you. Conversations were stilted and one-sided. "I love you, sweetheart", I said, trying the sound of my words as I waited for my heart to catch up with the emotions that the words promised.
But one thing I always knew even if I didn't always feel it - you are beyond precious. Off the charts. Nothing, no accomplishment, no accolades, can compare to how very precious you are.
You are so precious that I would go through the birthing process even though I had no idea how someone so big could exit my body into the world without causing serious pain and injury to the vessel. You are so precious that two selfish bums would put aside sleep and sanity to tend to your discomforts, real or imagined. You are so precious that anything that hurts you, hurts us too.
My heart melted when you smiled your first smile at me, and whenever you giggled our hearts would sing. But it was one day when you were several months old and sleeping peacefully that I looked upon you, that my heart just welled up with indescribable joy and love and it continued to overflow into my eyes and I cried, knowing that I love you with all my heart.
And I realised, this is but a poor copy of the way God loves us. How humbling, how comforting, how heart-breaking. Truly, to love another person is to see the face of God.
My dearest baby girl, we thank God from the bottom of our hearts for the precious gift that you are.
Are you considered a toddler now that you have gone past 18months?
Are you going to be a teenager in a blink of an eye?
Will you soon be taller, stronger, and smarter than me?
No matter how big you grow though, one thing's for sure.
You are always our dearest baby girl. The one whose poop once overflowed from her diaper onto the floor of a cafe. But that's a story for when we want to embarrass you in front of your friends next time.
16 September 2013
Bubbling over - life with the Bubs :)
Whenever people ask me how has this journey of parenthood been, I usually smile and say it's been good and The Bubs is a good girl, and I'll leave it at that. Then they'll follow up with the usual "are you getting enough sleep or rest? It must be tiring..." and I'll just nod and say ya it's more tiring but she's quite ok and again I'll smile and nod and kind of leave it there again.
It's hard to not boast and brag and gush non-stop about The Bubs without sounding too much like a raving fanatic from the Cult of The Bub once I start so I usually reign in my responses and mute it somewhat, because my honest answer would be "OMG SHE'S THE ABSOLUTE BEST BABY IN THE WORLD AND WE'RE BLESSED BEYOND MEASURE (BEYOND MEASURE!!!) THAT WE'RE HER PARENTS!!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE OUR GOOD FORTUNE????" and I'll mean every last word and then you'll back away slowly mumbling something about catching a flight and then you'll run away in case the condition is infectious. (It is, by the way. Once you meet The Bubs you'll be besotted. Promise. Let me show you her pictures... all 6 Gb worth...)
The Bubs is cheerful and cheeky with a wonderful sense of humour that is apparent at 13 months. She plays peekaboo with us, covering her own face with whatever cloth she can get a hold of and will unveil herself with an impish exclamation. We're so besotten with her laughter that we'll be complete clowns at home and in the public just to hear her giggles. When she totters towards us with outstretched arms and a toothy grin, our hearts melt and nothing is more important than scooping her up in our arms at that moment in time.
Before we became parents, we ridiculed couples whose Facebook profile pictures were that of their baby / babies. Have some sense of identity! we scorned. Get a life! The rest of the world isn't fixated on your kid's every minor and mind-numbingly boring achievements - in fact, the term "achievement" is already a bit of a misnomer. Get a grip of yourself and stop shoving baby minutiae into our faces on Facebook.
Now, we understand. Everything we had scorned before is what we're doing now. My baby's achievements are to be celebrated - again and again. And again. Nothing is more interesting than my baby's minutiae. No selfie is anywhere as fascinating as a picture of The Bub's toothy smile. Identity? It's right there - wrapped up in the baby swaddle.
Having a baby is like being in love all over again and we would brave through sleepless nights, thinned out wallets, eyebags and public humiliation just to keep her safe and happy.
21 June 2013
Father's Day - of Music and Lyrics
Father's day came and went without much fanfare.
I promised myself that I would write a story about my dad - because he is the best daddy in the world - as a keepsake for myself, and also to put on record that my dad is my hero.
***
Since the discovery of YouTube, my dad has become quite the YouTube addict and DJ. He trawls YouTube for songs of his youth and then googles the lyrics. He has also figured out how to manipulate the web browsers so that he can see both the video and the lyrics on the tiny screen of his netbook.
"Your daddy likes to listen to these oldies. It makes him feel like a young man again!" my mum would exclaim. "Now he is my personal DJ! When I sit here and play Angry Birds on the iPad, he will play songs for me to hear."
"Kai, come here and listen to this song. See the lyrics. The lyrics are so, so meaningful. Such beautiful lyrics!" my dad would sigh, and he would croon wistfully along to the song of his youth in his off-key, off-beat singing.
I have inherited my dad's obsession with lyrics. I am unable to listen to a song without listening out for its lyrics, and a lovely tune without meaningful lyrics is not worth listening to.
In recent times, with the arrival of The Bub Who Controls His Universe, my dad has stopped surfing the net for music videos as his schedule is dictated by the unpredictable sleep cycle of his precious granddaughter and her delicate dietary needs.
A typical morning for him involves waking up early to buy me coffee, watch me scarf down breakfast, followed by dropping us off. After that, he repeats the breakfast cycle with my brother. And then it's time for lunch with my mum.
A typical evening for him involves rushing home to grate half an apple, steaming some porridge, picking the bubs from infant care, preparing her bath, preparing her apple snack ("Ahhh! Aaa-pel. Aaa-pel!"), bringing her for a walk, feeding her, patting her to sleep, and then waiting for me to pick up the bubs.
I am blessed beyond measure to have him as my dad.
So as you can see, with the bubs around, there hardly is enough time for my dad to reminisce about the good old days and to surf YouTube anymore.
However, just the other day, I learnt that he has been revisiting music and lyrics from a forgotten era in his life.
"Kai, what are the lyrics to Baa Baa Black Sheep?"
I promised myself that I would write a story about my dad - because he is the best daddy in the world - as a keepsake for myself, and also to put on record that my dad is my hero.
***
Since the discovery of YouTube, my dad has become quite the YouTube addict and DJ. He trawls YouTube for songs of his youth and then googles the lyrics. He has also figured out how to manipulate the web browsers so that he can see both the video and the lyrics on the tiny screen of his netbook.
"Your daddy likes to listen to these oldies. It makes him feel like a young man again!" my mum would exclaim. "Now he is my personal DJ! When I sit here and play Angry Birds on the iPad, he will play songs for me to hear."
"Kai, come here and listen to this song. See the lyrics. The lyrics are so, so meaningful. Such beautiful lyrics!" my dad would sigh, and he would croon wistfully along to the song of his youth in his off-key, off-beat singing.
I have inherited my dad's obsession with lyrics. I am unable to listen to a song without listening out for its lyrics, and a lovely tune without meaningful lyrics is not worth listening to.
In recent times, with the arrival of The Bub Who Controls His Universe, my dad has stopped surfing the net for music videos as his schedule is dictated by the unpredictable sleep cycle of his precious granddaughter and her delicate dietary needs.
A typical morning for him involves waking up early to buy me coffee, watch me scarf down breakfast, followed by dropping us off. After that, he repeats the breakfast cycle with my brother. And then it's time for lunch with my mum.
A typical evening for him involves rushing home to grate half an apple, steaming some porridge, picking the bubs from infant care, preparing her bath, preparing her apple snack ("Ahhh! Aaa-pel. Aaa-pel!"), bringing her for a walk, feeding her, patting her to sleep, and then waiting for me to pick up the bubs.
I am blessed beyond measure to have him as my dad.
So as you can see, with the bubs around, there hardly is enough time for my dad to reminisce about the good old days and to surf YouTube anymore.
However, just the other day, I learnt that he has been revisiting music and lyrics from a forgotten era in his life.
"Kai, what are the lyrics to Baa Baa Black Sheep?"
05 May 2013
Breath
Oh, the brevity of life.
A kiss, a sigh, a wave goodbye.
Please stay a moment longer. Please tarry just a bit. Please. Just... please.
Do your fingers feel number? Are your feet a little colder? Is God a little nearer?
I understand. I don't understand. I fear. I do not fear. Please stay. Please go. Please, above all, have God's abiding peace.
Goodbye, goodbye. We will meet again, by and by.
Don't fear, Daddy's here. He will comfort you in the dark cold night. He promises a warm, eternal light.
Peace. Oh abiding peace. Please stay and never leave.
01 May 2013
On starting writing again part deux
So I showed the blog post to the Husband over brunch which he read hurriedly in between mouthfuls and balancing a squirmy Bub on his lap while skilfully avoiding a disaster potentially involving iced tea. I asked him what he thought of it and he smiled, saying it's nice.
He also asked "What are Birkins?" and with a flash of enlightenment said "ohhhh, Birkenstocks ah?"
Yes dear, yes.
I'd like a pair of Birkins please.
On starting writing again
Hello blog, it's been a while. In between the last time I blogged and now, my life has changed some and remained the same some. And life is good, because God is good.
The biggest change in my life is the addition of a little bub, our precious angel cutie pie who keeps us up at night and kicks us awake in the morning - the Bubs. And here I'll refrain from gushing about how cute and adorable she really is, because I'll only use superlatives (and mean every last word) and because words won't do justice to how much we adore her.
But I'll say this - having a baby certainly accentuates the simplest pleasures in life. The best part of the day is waking up and feeling the little warm bun next to you and the moment is yours to savour as you thank God for her and The Husband, before she wakes up and cries for her milk and your day starts in full force once again. The other best part of the day is giggling in bed as a happy trio while making fart noises and playing peek a boo with blankets stained with snot and drool. The OTHER best part of the day is when you go home after a long day and get to hug a smiling wriggling drooling bundle.
Right now we're out for brunch - the best part of the day - and it's clichéd but true, that with a kiddo, your bank account is smaller and your clothes are shabbier and your figure is... well, fuller, but I wouldn't change anything for a thousand limited edition Birkins in the world.
22 May 2010
Fighting a Losing Battle
There is this uneasy truce at home now -- we don't lock up the cat and she doesn't emotionally blackmail us with her wails and whines. With that, we've learnt that an exercise in futility is doing housework when there's a cat around that refuses to be locked up. After cleaning the toilet where its kitty litter is placed, all it needs to do is pay the tray a visit, and voila, litter scattered all over. After vacuuming every corner of the floor, it will inexplicably be covered by a light layer of fur.
Perhaps all I need to do is to go with the flow -- why do housework when clearly it doesn't make a difference to our living standards? The time spent could be better used to play Plants Vs Zombies, and that much more pleasurable too.
Right now, HoudiMimi likes to scratch my shoe bag, which I've left on the floor, near the door. The Husband thinks that we should encourage HoudiMimi to scratch the shoe bag, lest it develops an unhealthy taste for scratching wood, in which case our house will be destroyed, since we have a penchant for wooden furniture.
Our last bastion is the bedrooms and the storeroom. The Iron-Willed Cat seems hellbent on exploring these areas. We'll see how long we can last. May the force be with us.
Perhaps all I need to do is to go with the flow -- why do housework when clearly it doesn't make a difference to our living standards? The time spent could be better used to play Plants Vs Zombies, and that much more pleasurable too.
Right now, HoudiMimi likes to scratch my shoe bag, which I've left on the floor, near the door. The Husband thinks that we should encourage HoudiMimi to scratch the shoe bag, lest it develops an unhealthy taste for scratching wood, in which case our house will be destroyed, since we have a penchant for wooden furniture.
Our last bastion is the bedrooms and the storeroom. The Iron-Willed Cat seems hellbent on exploring these areas. We'll see how long we can last. May the force be with us.
13 May 2010
Houdini In Da House
The Cat has figured out how to open the toilet door. It has tasted freedom and now refuses to be locked up in a spacious toilet with everything it needs. No, that is no longer enough; it now wants the Dining Table, the Full Length Curtains, and my Shoe Bag.
It's now a free cat, roaming our house as it likes.
Intuition and I are defeated by HoudiMimi, a scarily smart cat that has figured out the intricacies of The Toilet Door and The Storeroom Door.
It responds to scoldings by acting super duper cute, such that we will drop our harsh tone and succumb to its charms, dropping to our knees, scratching its chin, saying "ooohhh you sho cute, you sho cute..."
We're so doomed.
It's now a free cat, roaming our house as it likes.
Intuition and I are defeated by HoudiMimi, a scarily smart cat that has figured out the intricacies of The Toilet Door and The Storeroom Door.
It responds to scoldings by acting super duper cute, such that we will drop our harsh tone and succumb to its charms, dropping to our knees, scratching its chin, saying "ooohhh you sho cute, you sho cute..."
We're so doomed.
05 May 2010
The New (Temporary) Member of the Family
Life has changed over the weekend. The Husband and I now have a crippling addiction to the awesome game, Plants Vs Zombies, and there is a new member to our small household -- a cat. Well, to be sure, it's a temporary resident that is renting our common toilet for about 2 months, but still, it's an adjustment for us.
Pre-cat era, The Husband and I languish in bed in the mornings until it's absolutely crucial to get up to get to work at all; now we get up earlier to change kitty litter, give it some food and affection, sweep up the scattered kitty litter around the bathroom floor and let it roam around the house. Pre-cat era, we didn't care what time we got home, as long as we get some sleep that night; now, we make sure we're home earlier to pander to the needs and wants of Queen Cat, clearing up her mess and giving her affection according to her demands.
My mum, the faithful Nagger and Naysayer, tells me that my house will be covered in fur and given the track record I've had with housework, she predicts that the value of my flat will depreciate drastically due to the fur and cat smell that will linger on til Kingdom comes. My dad says, with both hands raised, "as long as it remains YOUR problem and not MY problem."
I asked friends who keep cats, how do they deal with the fur? The most honest answer I've gotten is: "Cats and fur come together. Don't fight it, it's not worth it. Fur always wins." Well, now.
How did the cat end up on our lap? A friend of a friend has a housing issue and needs to keep the cat somewhere temporarily. My friend then asked me if I'd like to keep itand I said ok, let's give it a try. I honestly don't know why he approached me in the first place, since I've never kept any pets, and the only time I've demonstrated any affinity to cats is when I pet strays. Coincidentally, a few weeks earlier, I was smsing The Husband, saying that in this lifetime, it'll be nice to have kept a dog, a cat, and to raise about two kids. So when the opportunity came to test drive this dream, we took it!
Some fun facts:
- The cat is named Mimi, but The Husband wants to rename it "Cleopatra, The Sun Goddess", inspired by the regal way she claimed the kitchen rug for herself when she reclined on it.
- It looks an awful lot like Puss from Shrek, especially the gorgeous green eyes.
- It likes to squeeze inside shoeboxes, low shelves and dark corners. It's also partial to hiding behind curtains. SO ADORABLE.
In the mean time, I've got friends who are now asking to visit to see the cat. Not because they want to visit us. Because. Of. The Cat. It makes me wonder about the friends we have and the company we keep.
Pre-cat era, The Husband and I languish in bed in the mornings until it's absolutely crucial to get up to get to work at all; now we get up earlier to change kitty litter, give it some food and affection, sweep up the scattered kitty litter around the bathroom floor and let it roam around the house. Pre-cat era, we didn't care what time we got home, as long as we get some sleep that night; now, we make sure we're home earlier to pander to the needs and wants of Queen Cat, clearing up her mess and giving her affection according to her demands.
My mum, the faithful Nagger and Naysayer, tells me that my house will be covered in fur and given the track record I've had with housework, she predicts that the value of my flat will depreciate drastically due to the fur and cat smell that will linger on til Kingdom comes. My dad says, with both hands raised, "as long as it remains YOUR problem and not MY problem."
I asked friends who keep cats, how do they deal with the fur? The most honest answer I've gotten is: "Cats and fur come together. Don't fight it, it's not worth it. Fur always wins." Well, now.
How did the cat end up on our lap? A friend of a friend has a housing issue and needs to keep the cat somewhere temporarily. My friend then asked me if I'd like to keep itand I said ok, let's give it a try. I honestly don't know why he approached me in the first place, since I've never kept any pets, and the only time I've demonstrated any affinity to cats is when I pet strays. Coincidentally, a few weeks earlier, I was smsing The Husband, saying that in this lifetime, it'll be nice to have kept a dog, a cat, and to raise about two kids. So when the opportunity came to test drive this dream, we took it!
Some fun facts:
- The cat is named Mimi, but The Husband wants to rename it "Cleopatra, The Sun Goddess", inspired by the regal way she claimed the kitchen rug for herself when she reclined on it.
- It looks an awful lot like Puss from Shrek, especially the gorgeous green eyes.
- It likes to squeeze inside shoeboxes, low shelves and dark corners. It's also partial to hiding behind curtains. SO ADORABLE.
In the mean time, I've got friends who are now asking to visit to see the cat. Not because they want to visit us. Because. Of. The Cat. It makes me wonder about the friends we have and the company we keep.
14 April 2010
Happy birthday to Mum!
It's my mum's birthday today.
I remember one fateful year, on a particularly bad day at home when everyone was stepping on everyone's toes and yelling matches between my mum and I escalated to total icy silence at the dinner table, punctuated by the obligatory banging of bowls to signify how angry we both were, which was suddenly broken when she started crying silently. *Stunned, guilty, very very guilty silence.* And she finally stammered out "It's... my birthday today. And nobody remembered."
O_O
*frantic secret smses to the Brother, who was out on a date, saying "COME HOME NOW EMERGENCY BUY CAKE MUM'S BDAY NO ONE REMEMBERED. HURRY SHE'S CRYING."*
You bet your last dollar that we'll remember her birthday every darn year from then on. And you bet we overcompensated the following year, replete with an expensive surprise birthday cake at Grandma's and many many hugs and kisses and well wishes. Of course, every year she would remind us of the horrible time when we forgot her birthday, but that's another story altogether.
So I'd just like to put it on record that I have the best mum in the world, who taught me not to waste time on self pity, who taught me to always look on the bright side of things and to be positive no matter what. The mum who taught me the importance of lovely bags and shoes, and demonstrated how a wardrobe full of classic pieces is more lasting and classy than trendy cheap chic clothes. I've also picked up bad habits from her, such as sleeping really late and obsessively trying to top our personal Bejewelled high scores. I've inherited her sweet smile and short stumpy legs, as well as her love for nail polish and several of her branded bags. I can't imagine my world without her and am proud to call her my mum.
Happy birthday mum. I love you!
I remember one fateful year, on a particularly bad day at home when everyone was stepping on everyone's toes and yelling matches between my mum and I escalated to total icy silence at the dinner table, punctuated by the obligatory banging of bowls to signify how angry we both were, which was suddenly broken when she started crying silently. *Stunned, guilty, very very guilty silence.* And she finally stammered out "It's... my birthday today. And nobody remembered."
O_O
*frantic secret smses to the Brother, who was out on a date, saying "COME HOME NOW EMERGENCY BUY CAKE MUM'S BDAY NO ONE REMEMBERED. HURRY SHE'S CRYING."*
You bet your last dollar that we'll remember her birthday every darn year from then on. And you bet we overcompensated the following year, replete with an expensive surprise birthday cake at Grandma's and many many hugs and kisses and well wishes. Of course, every year she would remind us of the horrible time when we forgot her birthday, but that's another story altogether.
So I'd just like to put it on record that I have the best mum in the world, who taught me not to waste time on self pity, who taught me to always look on the bright side of things and to be positive no matter what. The mum who taught me the importance of lovely bags and shoes, and demonstrated how a wardrobe full of classic pieces is more lasting and classy than trendy cheap chic clothes. I've also picked up bad habits from her, such as sleeping really late and obsessively trying to top our personal Bejewelled high scores. I've inherited her sweet smile and short stumpy legs, as well as her love for nail polish and several of her branded bags. I can't imagine my world without her and am proud to call her my mum.
Happy birthday mum. I love you!
22 February 2010
My Bad (Spelling)
I am a bad person.
I do bad things behind people’s back and sometimes, I don’t feel the least bit sorry about it.
One of the bad things I like to do is to write down words that they enunciate wrongly, spelling it according to how they pronounce, and then laugh about it after that.
No, I still don’t feel bad. It must be because I’m not a good person.
Here is a list I gathered from a meeting. I wrote this list down so that I won’t fall asleep in front of him.
- Bacheror
- Examper
- Pwojecks
- Exproar
- Poposal
- Dispray
- Principers
- Directioner sign
- Letail hosplitality
- Projek lrelevant to industly
- Interear design
- We hap velly gud prace
Edit: Here is another that grates on my ears, but not from the said meeting...
- Valemtime's Day
I do bad things behind people’s back and sometimes, I don’t feel the least bit sorry about it.
One of the bad things I like to do is to write down words that they enunciate wrongly, spelling it according to how they pronounce, and then laugh about it after that.
No, I still don’t feel bad. It must be because I’m not a good person.
Here is a list I gathered from a meeting. I wrote this list down so that I won’t fall asleep in front of him.
- Bacheror
- Examper
- Pwojecks
- Exproar
- Poposal
- Dispray
- Principers
- Directioner sign
- Letail hosplitality
- Projek lrelevant to industly
- Interear design
- We hap velly gud prace
Edit: Here is another that grates on my ears, but not from the said meeting...
- Valemtime's Day
11 February 2010
CNY Craziness (My Dad Wants Out.)
CNY is so much work, I cannot believe it. Spring cleaning is a way to get me the toned arms I've always wanted, but it ruins nails like nothing else can. Oh, and the whole giving ang-paos business? After a while, you'll just get immune to dishing out cash.
Supermarkets and wet-markets are jam packed with people; nail-salons and hair salons have all jacked up their prices by 20-40%, the opportunists that they are; and my dad is running my errands for me. Oh, the spoilt princess that I am.
Me: *in my sweetest voice* Dad, are you going to buy groceries these few days?
He: Yes I am. Why?
Me: I'm stuck at work. Can you possibly help me get some stuff?
He: Ok can. Sms me what you want.
Me: *via sms* can u help me buy this, this, this, that & the other? oh n some more of etc etc...
(1 hour later...)
Me: *over the phone* Have you received my sms?
He: Yes.
Me: How? Can?
He: I thought you have a market downstairs? Why can't you get some of it?
Me: ... Ok can, I'll get it on Saturday.
He: ... Saturday? But... Saturday...
*pause*
He: Ok ok I get what I can for you. After that I resign from being your daddy! I don't want to be your daddy anymore! Ok bye.
*click... doot... doot...*
Supermarkets and wet-markets are jam packed with people; nail-salons and hair salons have all jacked up their prices by 20-40%, the opportunists that they are; and my dad is running my errands for me. Oh, the spoilt princess that I am.
Me: *in my sweetest voice* Dad, are you going to buy groceries these few days?
He: Yes I am. Why?
Me: I'm stuck at work. Can you possibly help me get some stuff?
He: Ok can. Sms me what you want.
Me: *via sms* can u help me buy this, this, this, that & the other? oh n some more of etc etc...
(1 hour later...)
Me: *over the phone* Have you received my sms?
He: Yes.
Me: How? Can?
He: I thought you have a market downstairs? Why can't you get some of it?
Me: ... Ok can, I'll get it on Saturday.
He: ... Saturday? But... Saturday...
*pause*
He: Ok ok I get what I can for you. After that I resign from being your daddy! I don't want to be your daddy anymore! Ok bye.
*click... doot... doot...*
03 February 2010
01 February 2010
Unrequited Love
Blur Friend: your most recent blog post was hilarious
Me: LOL! i didn't even realise until she stared at me dumbfounded!! she almost was like... "but but... but i don't love you!"
She: ROFL! kai, you must stop confessing to your female friends! this is the second time i know of that u've been rejected
Me: omg yes i realise
Me: 1st was youuuuu!!!
Me: HOW YOU BROKE MY HEART!
She: bwahahahahahahah
She: ROFL
She: better tell u soon than to have u labour under a false impression
She: as the Chinese saying goes, 长痛不如短痛
She: ROFL
Me: THAAAANKS T_T
Background Story:
I was on the bus the other day--in fact, it was last year--and the bumpy journey led to my fats jiggling in a most discomforting manner.
I texted Blur Friend:
"I'm so grossed out I can feel my fats jiggling on the bus ride!!"
To which she replied:
"Bad bus driver..."
To which I replied:
"I love you."
To which she replied:
"I'm sorry but you're not my type."
Me: LOL! i didn't even realise until she stared at me dumbfounded!! she almost was like... "but but... but i don't love you!"
She: ROFL! kai, you must stop confessing to your female friends! this is the second time i know of that u've been rejected
Me: omg yes i realise
Me: 1st was youuuuu!!!
Me: HOW YOU BROKE MY HEART!
She: bwahahahahahahah
She: ROFL
She: better tell u soon than to have u labour under a false impression
She: as the Chinese saying goes, 长痛不如短痛
She: ROFL
Me: THAAAANKS T_T
Background Story:
I was on the bus the other day--in fact, it was last year--and the bumpy journey led to my fats jiggling in a most discomforting manner.
I texted Blur Friend:
"I'm so grossed out I can feel my fats jiggling on the bus ride!!"
To which she replied:
"Bad bus driver..."
To which I replied:
"I love you."
To which she replied:
"I'm sorry but you're not my type."
30 January 2010
Say What?
Dear Self,
When talking about bands and music,
after a pause in the conversation,
it might be a good idea to give some context
before declaring to your female friend while looking at her straight in the eyes,
"I love U2."
It leads to bewilderment, followed by embarrassment, and also mass hysteria.
When talking about bands and music,
after a pause in the conversation,
it might be a good idea to give some context
before declaring to your female friend while looking at her straight in the eyes,
"I love U2."
It leads to bewilderment, followed by embarrassment, and also mass hysteria.
19 January 2010
Guest post: Tale as old as time...
A Christmas tale, as told by Intuition ; )
I was talking to my colleague, and this exchange took place:
Intuition: Did I tell you I was thinking of getting an Xbox? Well I just did, and boy am I feeling buyer’s remorse
Colleague: Tsk. Was wife involved in decision?
I: Oh yes she was, she gave permission for me to buy for her to give me for Christmas
C: Then it’s alright. You didn’t buy it. She did. Therefore, logically, no buyer’s remorse as far as you’re concerned.
I: Wow, that just made all the guilt go away; You’re a genius!
C: Ah. It is a very old solution. C.f. Genesis “The woman gave it to me, and I did eat”.
I was talking to my colleague, and this exchange took place:
Intuition: Did I tell you I was thinking of getting an Xbox? Well I just did, and boy am I feeling buyer’s remorse
Colleague: Tsk. Was wife involved in decision?
I: Oh yes she was, she gave permission for me to buy for her to give me for Christmas
C: Then it’s alright. You didn’t buy it. She did. Therefore, logically, no buyer’s remorse as far as you’re concerned.
I: Wow, that just made all the guilt go away; You’re a genius!
C: Ah. It is a very old solution. C.f. Genesis “The woman gave it to me, and I did eat”.
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."
As usual, I'm fashionably late. To my credit, it is still January 2010.
2009 was a crazy year for me.
When I was standing at the brink of the beginning of 2009, I had some idea of what it would bring. I was getting married in February 2009. I was going to shift to my new apartment. I had just started work at X Company. I didn't know I was going to change jobs in June 2009, which brought new adventures that I'll keep offline.
At the start of 2009, one of my few close friends left the country. This year, I'm hoping to visit her in the faraway land she flew off to =)
I started anew on some old hobbies of mine, most notably drawing. In 2007 and 2008, I focused more on playing the guitar, but that took a step back in mid-2008 and I've not resumed the level of commitment since, except for playing at home for my own consumption. Oh, but drawing... that's my first love amongst all my hobbies and I think it always will be, considering I was a doodler before I was a reader or a guitarist.
As for writing, I think I express myself better through writing than through verbal speech, except when I'm very very emotional, which hardly ever happens. As an angsty teen, when I quarreled with my mum, she'd win any verbal argument. Until I got fed up and wrote to her a long letter detailing why she's a terrible mum and why I'm so misunderstood :P LOL I wonder if she still keeps those love letters ; )
Back to drawing though. 2009 was a milestone for my drawing because I started on some lessons with my long-suffering Shifu who taught me caricature drawing way back when. This time, he got me started on live drawing. For those who are not familiar, live drawing is figure drawing, which is drawing nudes, male or female. This has led to several rather interesting conversations I've had with people who can't believe that I would do something as sleazy as gaze upon a nekkid body for 3hours with a group of like-minded people.
For instance, my young colleague looked through my sketchbook and proclaimed for all within earshot to hear, "These are screenshots of p0rn! What have you been looking at? TSK TSK TSK look at all these!" *flips through book loudly*
In another instance, Intuition was explaining my absence to a gathering which clashed with my class, and a (rather conservative) friend wanted to find out more:
He: Quirkie can't make it tonight cos she has drawing classes.
She: Oh really? What class is she taking?
He: She's doing live drawing.
She: Oh that sounds like fun! What happens in the class?
He: The model... poses, and then they draw the model.
She: Oh wow! Can I be a model?
He: ... ermmm *not wanting to embarrass her, says* it's a pretty niche thing.
Another one involved an sms exchange between a friend and I:
His sms:
To which I replied:
Me: Unless Y Organization increases my pay, I won't draw them with clothes on.
He: ... I'll let her know.
Me: Thanks. I can be persuaded.
He: You know, in a sense, one of the mascots is kinda like my avatar. So if you draw him nekkid, you're drawing me nekkid.
Me: OW STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP
He: Just so you know.
2009 was a crazy year for me.
When I was standing at the brink of the beginning of 2009, I had some idea of what it would bring. I was getting married in February 2009. I was going to shift to my new apartment. I had just started work at X Company. I didn't know I was going to change jobs in June 2009, which brought new adventures that I'll keep offline.
At the start of 2009, one of my few close friends left the country. This year, I'm hoping to visit her in the faraway land she flew off to =)
I started anew on some old hobbies of mine, most notably drawing. In 2007 and 2008, I focused more on playing the guitar, but that took a step back in mid-2008 and I've not resumed the level of commitment since, except for playing at home for my own consumption. Oh, but drawing... that's my first love amongst all my hobbies and I think it always will be, considering I was a doodler before I was a reader or a guitarist.
As for writing, I think I express myself better through writing than through verbal speech, except when I'm very very emotional, which hardly ever happens. As an angsty teen, when I quarreled with my mum, she'd win any verbal argument. Until I got fed up and wrote to her a long letter detailing why she's a terrible mum and why I'm so misunderstood :P LOL I wonder if she still keeps those love letters ; )
Back to drawing though. 2009 was a milestone for my drawing because I started on some lessons with my long-suffering Shifu who taught me caricature drawing way back when. This time, he got me started on live drawing. For those who are not familiar, live drawing is figure drawing, which is drawing nudes, male or female. This has led to several rather interesting conversations I've had with people who can't believe that I would do something as sleazy as gaze upon a nekkid body for 3hours with a group of like-minded people.
For instance, my young colleague looked through my sketchbook and proclaimed for all within earshot to hear, "These are screenshots of p0rn! What have you been looking at? TSK TSK TSK look at all these!" *flips through book loudly*
In another instance, Intuition was explaining my absence to a gathering which clashed with my class, and a (rather conservative) friend wanted to find out more:
He: Quirkie can't make it tonight cos she has drawing classes.
She: Oh really? What class is she taking?
He: She's doing live drawing.
She: Oh that sounds like fun! What happens in the class?
He: The model... poses, and then they draw the model.
She: Oh wow! Can I be a model?
He: ... ermmm *not wanting to embarrass her, says* it's a pretty niche thing.
Another one involved an sms exchange between a friend and I:
His sms:
Me: QKK can draw a new mascot for us this year.
His boss: She got time anot?
He: I'll ask her la.
*pause*
His boss: Will she draw them with clothes on or not?
To which I replied:
Me: Unless Y Organization increases my pay, I won't draw them with clothes on.
He: ... I'll let her know.
Me: Thanks. I can be persuaded.
He: You know, in a sense, one of the mascots is kinda like my avatar. So if you draw him nekkid, you're drawing me nekkid.
Me: OW STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP
He: Just so you know.
25 December 2009
The Annual Greed-List Part Deux
Dear All,
Just wanna say a huge THANK YOU! for all the wonderful presents and affection showered on me during this Christmas season and also for my birthday =) I am incredibly blessed and lack nothing in life, even before the bounty I've received as of today =)
Thanks for being a part of my life, for being a part of who I am today, and for taking an interest in what happens in this lil corner of the internet. Thanks for all the LOVE!
I hope in some way, I'll be a blessing to you too in the coming year =)
Blessed Christmas! and have a wonderful 2010 ahead of you =)
PS: It's my last year as a twenty-something. WOE.
Just wanna say a huge THANK YOU! for all the wonderful presents and affection showered on me during this Christmas season and also for my birthday =) I am incredibly blessed and lack nothing in life, even before the bounty I've received as of today =)
Thanks for being a part of my life, for being a part of who I am today, and for taking an interest in what happens in this lil corner of the internet. Thanks for all the LOVE!
I hope in some way, I'll be a blessing to you too in the coming year =)
Blessed Christmas! and have a wonderful 2010 ahead of you =)
PS: It's my last year as a twenty-something. WOE.
23 December 2009
Simple Pleasures in Life: Being in the Top 3
Mr B: today i was on bus with two female colleagues
Me: yesh yesh
Mr B: one of them told me the other thinks my junior is suai. so i say ok. need my help?
Me: k....
Mr B: then she carries on to say that the other thinks another colleague is 2nd suai
then the other colleague says i'm number 3 !!!
i'm in the top 3!!!
yay!
and there are only 4 male colleagues! :D
***
Strange friends have I.
Me: yesh yesh
Mr B: one of them told me the other thinks my junior is suai. so i say ok. need my help?
Me: k....
Mr B: then she carries on to say that the other thinks another colleague is 2nd suai
then the other colleague says i'm number 3 !!!
i'm in the top 3!!!
yay!
and there are only 4 male colleagues! :D
***
Strange friends have I.
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