THAT IS NOT A BOND!!

Yesterday morning, a text message from an elderly relative of mine nearing his 70s, who lives in Malaysia:

“Are bonds a good investment right now?”

Assuming this is one of his regular investment-grade bond purchases (he abhors current FD rates in Malaysia – tho US and therefore HK rates are worse, but anyway), I text back, “They’ve been having a good run here in HK, in the weeks after CNY” (dinner last week with former colleague who is now on a bonds desk) and turn back to Rockstar and his Lego. Except right after dropping Rockstar off in school, a rather proud Yay, I’ve Locked In message buzzes in.

Hey.

“Selection of 6 out of (list of credits).”

“3% fee applicable (despite) early withdrawal.”

“5% penalty for early withdrawal.”

What the hell?

Some further proud details about how the first tranche of RM 100 mio was oversubscribed and now he’s joining a second tranche…..

I don’t believe it. I don’t bloody believe it.

“That sounds like a structured note. Was that the ‘bond’ you were asking me about this morning?” Still not believing it, I text Kings. Within a minute he confirms, “Sounds like a CLN” (Credit Linked Note.)

“Selection of 6…” That isn’t just a bloody CLN, it’s a basket, probably a First (though possibly a Second) To Default CLN. That means you sell protection (like “insurance”) for an enhanced yield on a bunch of credits, and if one goes belly up in the course of the note life, you’re delivered the defaulted bond.

I’m already waiting for Elderly Relative to pick up his cellphone.

THAT IS NOT A BOND!!!”

An old structurer mentor of mine, way back when I first started out, used to drum into me, “Never tell me what your Salesperson says the client is calling it. Tell me what it does. They can call it anything.”

This is true. Early on in our careers, Kings put together forex + interest rate hybrid notes and called them – wait for it – The Power Note.

“As in Power Rangers?” Nope, I never really let him forget it. Can’t believe I finally got a chance to blog it 😀 I vaguely remember also a Turbo Note. (My hub is going to scream when he reads this, it joins the ranks of that Pigs Can Fly book he bought to have something to talk about with me when he heard I “like books”.) He thought “Power” and “Turbo” were good words to imply enhanced return (with corresponding risk, of course – you have to have all the safety gear before you can drive the fast cars, don’t you?) Back then we dealt with financial institutions, and counterparts might snort derisively. Or even banter in strangely-spelled Hokkien over the email at his um, creativity.

(But… I find it endearing, darling! <grin>). Ironically this thinking still invades the way we talk with Rockstar: Don’t like something, come up with something better. And if you’re the first to discover something, you might even get to name it and make everyone use your dorky name for it.

Yes, dear (other) readers, I know. I have a strange taste for geek bravado. <tragic hand-wringing> What shall become of our children? This is why I provide Kings with name suggestions. My hub shall not come up from scratch with what to name our kids. I would still like to see them sometime when they’ve grow up one day.

“DID THEY TELL YOU THAT IS A BOND??? It’s a Structured Note.”

“Um… Well she did say Structured Bond, but she also said it was very safe. Like the (other bonds he usually buys). <pause> FD rates are just terrible.”

I don’t even know what I should be saying first. Do I condescend by repeating No-Enhanced-Return-Without-Risk-And-You-Have-To-Check-What-The-Catch-Is, or do I proceed with how the “coupon” he’s mentioned is wildly not commensurate to the investment risk he’s about to expose himself to, or do I go on about the rather long (for that product in this environment) tenor, number of credits in the basket and……. Hang on. What were those worst-rated credits in the bunch of names he texted me again? That name is in there?

“Is that a first-to-default, are you taking the first hit out of that basket of 6 (to-be-selected-by-the-bank)?”

“First-to….. Yes. I lose the money if one issuer defaults.” Ok, he’s aware of that…

“But she said it was very safe, and it’s only for 3 years. Some of my bonds…..” Crap.

“IT’S NOT A BOND!! You can buy/sell liquid bonds way before they’re due to mature. AND you don’t have all the high early termination fees and things for – Ok. Ignore the “safe” names, all those names you like. Look at that worst name in the basket, because that is all that is going to matter (simplistically, to him I mean) if that’s a first-to-default. Well, that and the issuer.”

I’m fairly sure I know the answer. But, cautiously, “Did…. they….. mention to you….. what constitutes a default?”

This is the problem with Credit-Linked products being sold to individuals. This was why I left off doing these in my last few places (bearing in mind by then I was doing products for the bankers who sell to high net worth individuals, not institutions), and rarely put them together unless a client specifically requested one (in which case they already knew what it was – anyway we didn’t handle laymen, only “sophisticated investors,” as classified by HK regulators as such.) It’s because “default” can be defined in the legal documentation of the derivatives used to put together the product as say, a lack of ability to meet certain obligations in a year, a restructuring and so on… It is not necessarily your regular man-on-the-street’s understanding of a default. It’s based on the legal. And it has occasionally been triggered by world/ trading events without the name actually “defaulting” in the way most laymen might assume.

I don’t find that easy to explain to your average (especially very elderly) investor and it’s a red flag if they can’t really get it out of their head it’s not a straight bond to begin with. Because what happens next can possibly be very un-bond-like. You usually need some training classes – for the bankers selling them as well as the clients, if you want to do a widespread exercise like this.

(Anyway I used to tell RMs if I couldn’t get them to understand it in 5 minutes they shouldn’t sell it, I have to go get something else. No this does not make me a good person. This just makes me a practical person. Because the resulting hairy fallout is just not worth what we might make on the trade, there were so many other things we could sell without taking this on.) 

Technically that isn’t always bad either, because based on the CDS (Credit Default Swaps) used to create the CLN and lack of regulation (in those days – yes the very same that is having US regulators jump up and down now), it was possible that so much CDS was written on certain names (i.e. so many investors sold protection) that there weren’t enough defaulted bonds in the market to deliver to sellers of protection, thereby resulting in the price of the defaulted bond trading higher than the original bond traded pre-default.   

Yeah every time I blather on about these things here my readership tanks so I’m gonna stop. For one thing, Kings stops reading. Ambushing him with work-related stuff when he expected cute pictures of Rockstar forever annoys him. So anything, email me – I wanted the mental stimulation during the pregnancy anyways.

Random Pic To Please The Husband. It has "Daddy" on it.

“You WHAT???”

“I didn’t buy that much. <pause> Well, not really. She said it was a very safe product.”

“It is NOT a bond. And it is NOT a “very safe product”. If you aren’t careful, it is relatively similar to what killed many investors in Singapore and HK, not to mention bankers, because of the resulting fallout due to mis-selling allegations – and it seems because Malaysia hasn’t been hit by widespread Lehman Minibond phenomena now you’re starting on this thing.”

“But to get out now I’d have to pay all the penalty fees. Think I’ll lose more than the penalty?”

“That last name in your basket – you can’t simply hope the bank doesn’t pick that in the final 6. That is where all the meat would come from.”

I remember the few individuals we tailor-made these for – they were extremely savvy about picking credits that had very little “meat” in them, i.e. very little room to maneuver if the price ran, very little room for mistake – and yes, very little room for us to make anything out of it. (We had to do repeat business – yet another good motivation, if you needed one, not to skin someone). In the end it was very hard to execute the product and I happily did something else, because quoting close to flat also means the trade can quickly become un-profitable. I would tell the banker the client had to be prepared we couldn’t do the trade if the price ran – and that was an indication of how close to the bone we cut it for them, i.e. that we weren’t skinning them. No one ever yelled about it, that was fair. Civilized.

I want to yell at this banker. The one who has sold my nearing-70 year old relative in Malaysia a First To Default Credit Linked Note he thinks is “a bond,” with more meat in it than you can find at KFC. Not so much for being cutthroat, more likely for being stupid.

“Let me call you back in 10 minutes. I want to try and see if she’ll let me get out of it before the bank closes.”

“You can’t have signed it more than an hour or two ago. If you’re joining a big book-building tranche that hasn’t closed she can’t have executed it yet. You thought it was a bond. If she doesn’t let you out of the trade, mention reporting the mis-sell. Though worse case be prepared to pay the early-withdrawal penalty to get out.” Though that would’ve been pretty nasty on the banker’s part – I don’t even remember having to inflict that on any of my banker’s clients in much faster-moving HK, even if I had already squared it with my counterpart, they would probably still let me go, annul the trade. Also, I’m not sure they can inflict the penalty on him easily, so early in the day. It’s whether they let him off or hold him to it.

In less than 10 minutes, my iPhone buzzes. “She let me off. WHEW.”

I haven’t heard anything more from my relative (despite various messages on my part explaining why it’s too “meaty” a trade – correlation, names, tenor etc). It’s been maybe 15 hours. Must have been way more excitement than he’d expected for the day…

Posted in aileensml, Talking To Rockstar | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Rockstar’s Nod To Jeremy Lin

#192

Watching new basketball sensation Jeremy Lin score a beautiful 3-pointer on CNBC coverage of a game (though I think that was a different game)..

Rockstar: That’s actually one of the things I do on my basketball games in school, Mondays and Fridays.

Oh, to be so young you are invincible once more!

Posted in Rockstarisms | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

Rockstarisms #191 – The Un-politically Correct Rockstarisms

#191 

Rockstar: Mum. I saw (schoolmate’s mum) today. I told her (all his grandparents) have gone home to Penang and Seremban.

Me: That’s nice, dear. What did she say?

Rockstar: She asked me “Is that in China?”

——————————————————————————

Rockstar: Never, ever land in China Mum. Because it’s dangerous. 

Me: What? Why??

Rockstar: People play with real guns there.

Me: ?! Is this something you got from your clever, clever friends again?

Rockstar: <nodding emphatically> Yeah! People might shoot you when they’re playing with their real guns! 

(Lots of his friends have been to various parts of China recently over the past holidays, I have no idea which genius came up with this one but I’ll bet it’s one of his guy buddies, given the shooting action… We did some explaining…)

——————————————————————————

Rockstar: (Looking at some pic Kings has on his laptop) Daddy, what’s that?

Kings: That place is in Japan. We’ve never been to Japan for holiday, do you want to go someday?

Rockstar: No, don’t want. It’s not safe. They get earthquakes. 

——————————————————————————

Watching some kiddie character ham it up on Rockstar’s cbeebies channel:

Me: <muttering to myself while walking by> Wow that looks a bit gay. (By which I happened to mean effeminate…)

Rockstar: What’s gay?

Me: Happy, dear. The guy on tv is really cheerful. <thinking: How did he hear that, I was mumbling and he’s supposed to be watching tv. Don’t kids and men totally zone out in front of the tv>

Hours later, Kings in the living room decompressing and grunting amusedly over Stephen Chow fails to amuse the Rockstar and yes you can see it coming, can’t you?

Rockstar: <meant as a complaint that he’s bored and his dad is not entertaining him while I’m in the shower> Mum! Daddy’s gay.

 

Tintin display in ICC mall

Posted in Rockstarisms | 7 Comments

The Primary School Interview Diaries: Part 1

Here’s where I break the many months of silence…

Choosing a school for your child (or watching your child be chosen or not) can be extremely…… Counter-intuitive. Every fiber of the mum in me just wants to reach for the stars. As in, choose the most expensive education we can afford (and can get Rockstar into) and assume Rockstar goes to an elite ivy-league someday. Done. Little box next to Send Rockstar To Harvard….. Check!

As we looked around us, attended school meetings, spoke to people, we realized things can get really, really crazy if you let it. So future parents, beware – I think it hurts your child more than it helps. There can be a lot of hype over schools, and most every parent you ask will be happy to offer an opinion, often a passionate one and then after awhile you realize information and opinions can be extremely conflicting and confusing. And there will be parents who will swear by them anyway.

Please don’t take this as disrespectful or anything, I took this pic to show some of the hype – this dog’s local owners are very proud of this jacket, which reads “Pet International School”, because they don’t have kids

Before I start on our story, lemme just say: Know, really know your own child’s strengths, weaknesses and personality first. And then every time someone tells you what works for their child/ boss’ child/ some urban legend child who went to Harvard at 16, don’t forget what you know of your child.

So, here we go. Our own experiences and opinions…

At the ESF Kindy/ Primary talk, we were generally advised to apply to a minimum of 2 other schools in case they can’t take everyone due to oversubscription. So we did. We found many more people who applied to 6, 10, or “practically every” school, though we didn’t.. The ESF Kindy/ Primary talk (not to mention all the staff) provide a lot of support and handholding and tips on how to prepare for interviews.

Rockstar went for a total of 3 different school interviews this season; 2 he got through, 1 we don’t know the results of at press time but submitted our acceptance paperwork and paid up everything for the ESF primary school which was our default first choice* anyway. Nope, not even on their last acceptance day 🙂 We are happy and grateful for the spot. Rockstar probably won’t win any sports medals for the school <grin> but maybe I can get him on the Debate Team someday! Yay!

(*Being very happy at the Kindy).

But I had some stories to tell anyway… I trust the SEA community living here will understand what I mean by “it’s like you can’t be “Southeast Asian” and not try to look at Chinese International School,” however perfunctorily or not; tho I also know Koreans who feel the same way, it’s a nod to our “Malaysian-ness”, that we always feel we must at least try, especially living in Northasia and feeling it, that we be “Malaysian Chinese” who have been illiterate in Chinese for several generations. CIS btw, was Rockstar’s 3rd interview, the one where we haven’t had news about.

That I know of, CIS (very well-known for strong Putonghua and English) had a debenture that traded up to just under HKD 5mio. Kings’ colleagues have told us there are kids from powerful families who attend school each day with bodyguards. I know girlfriends who have looked at borrowing Hermes crocodile handbags to attend their Meet-The-Parents.

Well no school can help who chooses to apply to them now, can they? 😀 It’s not to say everyone’s like that, but there were parents we met who considered they had arrived – socially, economically – if they got their children into CIS. Thing is, they look more or less like the parents who don’t. Think that way, I mean. And sometimes, you might not talk to them long enough to realize which they are, when they stand there and gush about their choice of school (not necessarily CIS, just any expensive school, I mean).

Our personal experiences with CIS kids were when we were looking for a Putonghua-speaking babysitter for Rockstar and ended up meeting a girl living nearby who was from there… who yes, spoke impressively flawless English and Putonghua and told us of the many classmates going to top universities worldwide (though she also speculated that maybe she’d gotten in despite relatively less well-heeled parents because her family had a strong Oxbridge history – and to some extent we did just passingly wonder how much parents’ alumni factors)…

And then I’d also met an intern in one of the dealing rooms I was at, who very candidly remarked, “Yeah my dad got me this (job). I have no interest, but our agreement was I complete this internship and then he lets me do something I want. I’m taking a year off before carrying on to college <pause> Do you guys want coffee?” (No, we didn’t – in fact Kings has been known to snap at kids in his own place with, “No I do not. I want you to learn something. Don’t bring me coffee again!” Anyway I did try, but well, she doesn’t like finance, what do you want from me? Still, I enjoyed talking to her, and we worked on some stuff she could impress her dad with – thing is, she comes from a very well-heeled family. She is exceedingly well-mannered and humble, I liked her immensely. And that is what impressed me.)

Interestingly, there are locals I have spoken to who will say CIS is not famous to them and they really want to get into ESF, and will go to fairly similar lengths that SEAsians do re CIS, for ESF. Which I find amusing to a jaw-dropping degree.. Even our very local driver, with I think a 5 year-old grand daughter in Kiangsu (code to SEAsians and possibly other non-locals as the local school you enroll your child in first, if you are then trying to move to CIS) will bewilderedly say “Really meh? Well Kiangsu’s good too……. Why move again?” He had such a fit when I told him about the debenture.

I just mention because they seemed such very different worlds, in Hong Kong. Rockstar would go gamboling everywhere in his ESF Kindy uniform after school, sometimes to meet Kings wherever he’s at, and more erm, moneyed expats would possibly be rather disdainful, (ESF has an annual school fee slightly less than half that of the other international school Rockstar interviewed at which shall remain unnamed, btw – primary school and up receive government subsidy and therefore mandate to provide English education to those who cannot access a local system) while decidedly middle-income locals have been known to strike up conversations and proudly say they’ve had kids attend ESF too**, and ask Rockstar what class he’s in and so on… ESF has a very high percentage of kids going into local HK uni, which btw is not exactly easy to get into, but as a very general statement is not as well connected as the ivy leagues and oxbridges…

**Canton-speaking locals are considered non-Cat 1, because they can access the local system. I’d met an English lady who then expressed concern about the quality of English spoken at school if there were too many locals going, I then told her I was the other way around – I actually liked locals attending because their kids were often quite erm, “academically sound,” with their math/ general knowledge and all, and English was the one thing I could handle anyway, as obviously could she…

Kings and I observed a couple more without Rockstar interviewing, but are not pursuing. We’d actually applied to ESF plus two fairly obvious choices given our area, just that Kings applied while I was at work not having all my marbles and Rockstar was like, 15 months old and now was when the CIS interview came up. So Rockstar interviewed at ESF, CIS, and one of the two other international schools we were looking at. He got accepted at ESF so we didn’t pursue the interview at the original third international school we had planned to try.

And so the Rockstar formed… opinions. Often within earshot of the various school staff. Knowledgeably: This (school) is better. They had Lego.” Scandalized: “And then- and then- someone spoke to me in Chai-nese. Huffily, “I really hope they have people who speak English here.” (That last was unfortunate, though funny, because he said that going into the Chinese International School interview though yes, they are bilingual. Well, at least they know I wasn’t lying when I filled their pre-interview form about Rockstar’s personality with something along the lines of, “Doesn’t enjoy Putonghua and will not speak it unless he’s absolutely certain he can’t be understood in English…”)

What? I’m insane?

Why lie, they’ll find out anyway because it’s possible Rockstar will tell them. Ok, but seriously here’s my point – if we had to get the school slot based on some fib I told about Rockstar, it’s possible he’s not going to do well there anyway because I would expect a good school to also make a professional decision about fit. He’s not a good fit, don’t take him – and I shouldn’t take it personal. Oh, there it is. When it’s your child, when you want something so very bad, it’s very hard to not take everything personal.

The reason I respect CIS (not from grapevine hype) is because they really didn’t behave like The School Who Had A HKD 5mil Debenture. (In a good way.) When I mentioned Rockstar’s attitude to Putonghua on the form, their response at Meet-The-Parents was something along the lines of, “You have to be supportive and work at it (plus suggestions),” and, “Then English will be the language we evaluate your child in.”

Contrast that with Meet-The-Parents at other “desirable” international schools where we didn’t bring Rockstar back for interview – “Uh-this-happens-to-be-a-top-performing-international-school,” complete with horrified expression at our perceived ignorance. Kinda put us off a tad. (Uh-I-just-think-people-worth-their-salt-don’t-need-to-make-it-felt-to-others.) Then there was one with a huge push to introduce corporate (or come forward ourselves as) donors so they could build “a world-class facility” and “a legacy”.

There are some schools where you really understand why people are so hungry for their kids to get in, and then there are schools where you really don’t understand why people are so hungry for their kids to get in. It’s like you want to hate the Had-A-HKD5mil-Debenture school the powerful people’s kids go to and they just don’t give you any reason to. How inconsiderate of them.

Anyway. Back when people who’d been around lotsa kids (while yours truly had never been around any) were saying Rockstar was a “problem” child, I felt desperate and I shall give credit where it’s due. It is to the ESF Kindy’s credit that now people tell me Rockstar’s smart, rather than has “a problem”. 

Thing is, as objectively as I can, I hadn’t thought it was likely Rockstar was dumb (barring God forbid say, a learning disability or an accident). However I know he is very much not easygoing. With a perfectly straight face, he will make you vomit blood if you don’t take him seriously or brush off his opinions. He hates music session at Wisekids Playroom (after staff brushed off that another toddler took two of his toys), and so when the music starts he will politely walk to the exit and stand there waiting to be let out. And politely tell you “No, thank you,” if you try to get him to participate. But he swings both ways. If he likes the teacher and school…. you can imagine you never have to push him to do any schoolwork. Which was why I didn’t totally discipline it out of his personality – for e.g. I like when he focuses on un-age-appropriate Lego or some other puzzle he refuses to give up on.

This however has previously led a well-known pre-school to think he was dumb or something. Pre-ESF days, Rockstar was once retained in a baby class at a well-known pre-school. His teacher, this older British lady, explained apologetically at a parent-teacher meeting that he’d not said anything to her and so she’d simply thought he couldn’t. It was also my fault for having a helper who fed me absolutely crap about his progress. (The irony was it was another helper, not this teacher, who first highlighted to me Rockstar had been held back for months.)

Btw that pre-school, which also has Kindy classes, boasts a much smaller class size than what ESF has.

Then entering the ESF Kindy, I had then filled in their About (my child) telling them this about his personality too, same as I did with the Putonghua and CIS. Don’t think it doesn’t feel counter-intuitive to do this when there are people who go to extreme lengths to get the schools they want, but I sincerely believe if the school is professional (and of course you as a parent listen to their suggestions), my child should not be penalized for it.

This maybe neither here nor there, but erm, we had also somehow misplaced the ESF interview letter, I discovered on the eve of their primary school interview, and called said school wanting to know if I could bum the instructions on what to bring off one of Rockstar’s classmates (i.e. whether we had similar instructions). Instead, the person on the other end casually read out everything I needed and was all “no worries” about it.

As I said, things can get hyped out of proportion, and the people who do power-trip on you might not be worth it anyway. Avoid where possible, before everyone ends up in an audition for One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest.

You can imagine I have zero respect for schools that turn down toddlers for being “too stubborn.” Or for being anxious and crying – when they make imperious booming announcements over the PA system that it is “Absolutely Imperative Parents Leave Their Children Now.” Some kids do fine, some don’t, when they announce over the PA system. Maybe some of the kids doing fine didn’t notice there was a booming announcement?

Well anyway. I don’t claim to know everything – I’m insecure about parenting Rockstar just like so many mums here. So I avoid as many serial wigging-out parents as I can. What? I’m melodramatic? Just look at the number of borrowed proofs of address (for catchment areas), interview tuitions and various others (XYZ pre-school activities mimicking ABC Kindy’s evaluation exercises so your child will do better at interview. Insisting at dinner parties on being seated next to any person who works in the school of your choice. I know someone who considered putting in a downpayment on a place, after not being able to borrow an address proof, just for an ESF catchment area. People here want their school choices bad.

So it is not easy to go, “If Rockstar doesn’t get in, it’s probably not the right place for him anyway” when you see everyone else going the other way. What you really want to do is stand in the middle of a field somewhere and scream your lungs out, “YOU WANT A PIECE A-ME? I’M RIGHT HERE!!” at the whole bloody HK system with the rabidly oversubscribed schools.

To. Be. Continued……

**Updated April 2013 – Cat 1 mentioned above will soon not be in effect anymore for 2013/2014

Posted in Rockstar Thoughts, School For Rockstar | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

What do you say on Valentine’s Day when your child does this?

This Valentine’s was a new one…

Lifesaver In Leather Box in front of DVD player… Fine, melodramatic, but these made my day, you’ll see why soon…

Rockstar and I often tape things to Kings’ desk so he’ll see treasured art and craft Rockstar brings home from school during the week, whatever time he leaves for work (often before 7) or comes home (half the time past 10 or 11), or if he’s been gone all week.

This V-day was the same with gifts, Rockstar had spent some time picking a card with flashing lights and I scored a textured navy silk Hermes tie (mummy friend got us hooked – her son loves the cute animal prints on the ties, but it’s possible we will now end up snapping up virtually every staid black or blue tie in the store over the next few celebrations) that hadn’t been on display, I’d had the salesgirl root around for the only one they had in stock.

That was the evening of February 13th, and Kings keeps going “Hey I didn’t get anything yet, IT’S NOT VALENTINE’S DAY YET” (but we’d usually only see him (if at all) at the very end of the day, so…)

My response is, “Don’t send me flowers ok, I’m not working anymore..” this is because Kings fairly often ordered flowers for clients in the past (yes he has clients who go in the Bloomberg chatroom and bemoan the awkwardness of having to go order flowers – there are men who will just always hate flowers – no dear readers, none of them are your husbands, and then Kings would do several guys’ orders all at once and feel bad/ strange ordering for everyone else and send something to me at my office as well.) After the first year that happened, I would hitch a ride too – I used to send flowers to a girl who worked for me some 6 years ago, we are still friends today – until the day she warned us Kings’ name was appearing on the receipt and Kings freaked out about his clients’ wives/ girlfriends finding out he was the one ordering all their flowers haha

Because we were watching Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie’s Tourist on DVD while Rockstar slept…

So anyway I figured I’m out doing school run and errands after, and I already can’t wear half my rings and most of my metal-strap watches and am therefore not feeling like getting anything from Links (which is where he wanted to go) so I tell Kings since he hasn’t gotten anything, don’t, I’ll look for something… Eventually… And then yesterday I didn’t because Rockstar was fighting off a cold..

Then I get a little huffy with Rockstar, which is what this post is all about. See now, the Rockstar and I had gone V-day shopping together for Kings, but it doesn’t quite occur to my son to do something for me (which makes me feel taken for granted by my 4yr old <sheepish>). After school he shows me a couple of heart shapes and goes “This big one is for Daddy. And I couldn’t do two big ones. So here’s yours. And you have to share yours with Grandmum.” 

Don’t get me wrong. This was still FINE. It then stopped being fine when over the next 90 minutes Rockstar asks me a gadzillion times “Why do you like it so much, Mum?” Which we both know is code for him fishing for compliments. I initially repeatedly go “Because you made it all by yourself, because it was so thoughtful,” and so on, but ok come on. I’m supposed to share the little heart and heap praise every few minutes and he doesn’t make Kings do all that this time, or any of the last umpteen times, we decorate Daddy’s desk and stuff. By the end of the day, my snuffly 4 year old demanding still more praise for this one little thoughtful thing he’d done for me was starting to grate on my nerves. After his long hot steam bath (to clear stuffed-up nose) he also requests I massage him for 20-30 minutes til he dozes off. No complaints there, I’d do it any day, but given the non-event V-Day of running errands, encountering rude, queue-cutting Mainland tourists and then Rockstar providing the proverbial straw, this pregnant (read: Fat!) old camel’s back is about to go.

“You give tough love, you get it back,” my girlfriend sounds amused on the chat. It’s true, I’m a proverbial “mother of a boy” – Rockstar falls down, he picks himself up unaided. He starts a bawling tantrum, he’s still got to pull himself together and explain with proper words what’s bothering him. (Well how else will anyone know what he wants if he can’t tell us what he wants? Though I’m no boy and my mum still raised me that way too – I remember her telling me she walked out of the gym during some of my taekwondo fights when I was getting kicked in the head/face, so she wouldn’t even be tempted to fuss.. )

I have girlfriends whose sons will say the sweetest, mushiest things to them, look for beading stations everywhere they go in order to make little trinkets for them. Even one girlfriend’s son who is quieter, and awarded a valentine to some chim jellyfish species he calls his pet at home looked contrite and got all huggy. I can only be a little wistful. Once, a friend broke her toe and her 4yr old would look at the cast and burst into tears, “I feel so bad for you, Mummy.”

Uh, y-eah. N-ot the Rockstar. He’s an I’m Busy, You’re Busy, And We All Fall Down Sometime, Mum kind of child. Even when he caught my already-swollen-from-sports-injury fingers in the car window. “It doesn’t hurt that much..” That last was in response to my shrieking “ROLL THE WINDOW BACK DO-OOWN!!!” at him. 

Kings on the other hand, away much more often, sometimes the entire work week, is Daddy. DadDY, whom we decorate desks for and email funny pictures to and call about achievements and milestones. DadDY, who goes off each day to an exciting (to the Rockstar) grownup job in ICC or regularly goes on cool plane rides to conduct “business trips”. The Rockstar is extremely hungry to grow up. Grown up things fascinate him. Though occasionally DadDY is also entertaining to attempt to slip one by. “I don’t eat hard-boiled eggs in my porridge, DadDY,” (like hell he doesn’t.) Me, always there at his beck and call, barking at him to finish his dinner or stop jumping on the sofa or quit being dragged around the living room floor by the dog, and go have his bath, I’m Mum <little wave>. The Rockstar brings the MumMY when he wants to emphasize something. Or is trying to be a little nicer.

So “Mum” is feeling taken for granted and a little sorry for herself,  even as she clears up the used bath, as Rockstar snores through a blocked nose on her bed, having had his massage when Kings, coming home later in the night with a box of roses from the Hyatt where he has just finished client drinks, saves the day.

“How did you know to still get flowers when I already reminded you not to?” Kings’ flowers are a surprise, because I hadn’t said anything about my valentine exchanges with our offspring yet. We’ve left off flowers before, to us they don’t necessarily mean what couples traditionally take them to mean every year. This year, however….. Kings says only, “Tsk. When a girl says she doesn’t want flowers…..” “Oh, and check out those Swiss chocolates. My clients brought them from Europe, apparently they’re real special…”

Rockstar wakes at 10.30pm (thought he might sleep through the night, as he’s done before when fighting off a cold, so I’d fed him well after school – instead he’s had a 3.5 hour nap) and curious, we watch his reaction as I say “well Daddy got me flowers…”

Without skipping a beat, “For Valentine’s? Good, I made a card that can go with…” The Rockstar claps his hand over his forehead, turns to his father and laughs conspiratorially, “You know, Daddy, I have a card you can use with the flowers…” And “Mummy… I want dinner.” Which he finishes in 20 minutes flat, then settles back in bed and slowly drifts off again til morning… That’s one time I’m not sorry for the tough love.

Except in the morning, “But Mum. Which do you like better, my card or Daddy’s flowers?” “You mean (this little pink paper heart I’m supposed to share, the only thing he’s done for me for Valentine’s -they had a bake sale in school for which I’d gone down to Great for large icing-decorated cookies for him to bring and exchange other snacks for, and he came away with cookies to bring home – which however he is determined to finish on his own. Rare, because he doesn’t have a big sweet tooth)?” <firmly> “Yeah. And you have to share.” And then he still wants to know if I like it better. Freud might write an essay on the question.

Rockstar scarfing one of the Swiss chocs before school this morning...

I come up with something non-committal along the lines of I love each gesture he and Kings have made and there is no comparison for being thoughtful. I leave out the bit about how thoughtful I think Rockstar might have been… I’m still a little stumped how I should’ve responded…

Posted in Talking To Rockstar | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Zippety, The Imaginary Friend

#190

There were times during this thing when we were a little creeped out, because Rockstar sounded so completely serious. Absolutely refused to admit this was all in his head and we couldn’t tell, except towards the end, that he was aware this was all made up. This is a conversation that carried on throughout most of our Sunday… 

Before The Aliens Landed: You play with your toy, I'll play with my toy (Rockstar is trying to film JD with his iPod, JD is trying to get him to throw her ball)

Rockstar: <gravely, right after waking in the morning> Mum. When we were walking JD in the park yesterday I met someone in a rocket ship.

Me: Good morning, did you just have a dream?

Rockstar: No! You were there too. His name is Cippety. He has a rocket ship that landed in the park. (Spends some time correcting my pronunciation of the name)

Me: Erm.. Is he… an alien?

Rockstar: No, he’s a person. <pause> Dressed as an alien.

Me: What does he look like?

Rockstar: He has two eyes and dresses all in red.
(I tell Kings about this while we’re getting dressed for church)

Rockstar: <overhearing> No, ZIP-pe-ty. With a Z not C (I was just telling Kings “C” as in “Celine”). We have to go to the field and meet him later. He has a present for JD.

Me: Why, does he like dogs?

Rockstar: Yes he likes to eat them.

Me: He eats dogs?? We’re not meeting him, it’s illegal to eat dogs in HK. Or cats. The police are going to lock him up. What did Mummy say about bad influences.

Rockstar: Today’s Sunday. He only eats dogs on Saturdays.

Me: It’s illegal in HK to eat dogs even on Saturdays. And anyway I don’t want you hanging out with a crazy dog-eating person. What if he eats JD?

Rockstar: He won’t eat JD, he wants to give her a present. We have to meet him. He told me yesterday he would land in sector 74.

Me: What does he do when he’s not eating housepets?

Rockstar: He eats Moon Fruits. From Moon Trees.

Me: They can’t be like any fruit on earth, can they? What do plants on earth need to grow?

Rockstar: <pause> Air, water, sunlight.

Me: Right. Do they have that on the moon?

Rockstar: No, so the plants have to eat Moon Bugs. They catch them like Venus Flytraps. (This is probably from him having learnt carnivorous plants have to supplement their diet by eating bugs because they often grow in areas where the soil alone is not rich enough to sustain them…)

Me: Are you sure he’s human? Whatever grows in Moon conditions and eats any bugs that can live there is probably really alien.

Rockstar: That’s why he likes dog.

Me: There are so many other things to eat on this earth!!

Rockstar: Oh. Yeah. Like chicken. Everyone eats chicken. Mum. I tell you something else. <whispering conspiratorially> Zippety gave me his phone number. We can call him if we’re late.

Me: Oh? And what’s the number?

Rockstar: 875643

Kings: <snapping back in after long contemplative silence> And the area code?

(I spend some time explaining area codes)

Rockstar: <sounding disappointed> Oh. I forgot to get the area code for the moon. Can we google it?

Me: Erm, I’m not sure they use the same kind of communication equipment on the moon as they do on earth, we’ll just have to be on time or wait for him to call us… Hey, come to think of it, how come Zippety dresses in red, not white like most spacemen? Lunar Jim (from Cbeebies) wears white, right? And he lives on the Moon…

Rockstar: He used to live on Mars. But then he moved to the Moon. So his phone number is a Moon number.

Me: How come he moved, what was wrong with Mars?

Rockstar: He found a better house on the Moon. It was cheaper.

Me: Those darn Martian property prices. After they found some water or moss fossils or something now everyone wants to live there. The Moon is no longer the cool new place to live. (Rockstar nods in agreement).

Kings: What was the number again?

Rockstar: Mum remembers. What was that number Mum?

So it goes on and on til we’re up at the park..

Me: <as we walk to a clearing along one of the Peak trails> I guess sector 74 is in the middle of the playground where a spaceship can land. This trail is too narrow, what with the rock face.

Rockstar: I’m sure Zippety’s ship can adjust. It’s a big ship. It’ll just land on the whole mountain.

Me: That doesn’t make sense, darling. (I know! Like any of this makes sense!) Don’t all space ships need a clearing in order to land? Unless it has adjustable feet…

Rockstar: No, I think it’ll just land in the clearing there…  <runs ahead to playground> JD! No! Don’t sniff the landing pad! Zippety’s ship wants to land there!

Me: Oh don’t boss her, she’s just curious.

Rockstar: <huffily> Not allowed! Because… because… Zippety has worms on his ship. 

Me: What?? You saw that NASA video, entering Earth’s atmosphere makes the ship heat up from the friction. All the worms would be fried. They had to cover the NASA ship with tiles made of the same material as sand, remember?

Rockstar: These are special worms made of sand. They help with the landing. They squeak, then Zippety knows how to adjust his ship.

Then follows an elaborate landing, greeting and parcel acceptance, before Rockstar waves goodbye to the ship and mimes presenting me with a parcel to carry for JD so he can play with the rest of the stuff in the playground. We hand JD’s imaginary parcel back and forth as we walk back up the path to where Kings is waiting…   

On the drive home…

Kings: So, how was the meeting with Zippety?

Rockstar: Who’s Zippety?

The end.

Posted in Rockstarisms, Talking To Rockstar | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Rockstarism #189 – Volunteering In School Rockstarism

So with morning sickness easing, I finally made it back to volunteering during free-play time in Rockstar’s Kindy. The Rockstar is pleased, and tells both our driver and helper that there is a schedule change since I’ll be in school (ie will need a sandwich for lunch and will have a different pickup time) before I can. And then on the morning of my first day back…

Rockstar: <gravely, sitting down nearby as I put on my makeup> So Mum. What do you say when you meet my friends?

Me: <thinking: Is he serious?> Uh…. “Hello”?

Rockstar: <nodding approvingly> Yes.

Me: <thinking: He has got to be kidding me..> Then what do you say when you meet my friends?

Rockstar: <huffily> I’m not saying anything to (my friend whose son he hates.)

Me: How come I don’t get to do that with your friends whose mums I don’t like??

Rockstar: I have to think. I need a minute.

Me: Well?

Rockstar: Are you sure it’s been a minute?

Me: Yes.

Rockstar: Oh-Kay.. Be-cause… I don’t want you to get in trouble.

Me: Why get in trouble, I’m not going to get in trouble for not talking to your friends’ mums I can’t stand. (Hypothetical of course, just want to see what he says.)

Rockstar: <reasonably> I only don’t want to talk to one of your friends. I can’t stand (her son). I’m fine with the others… I talk to (other classmate)’s Mummy. (Btw Rockstar hates this one boy because he used to keep reminding Rockstar he’s smaller…)

Me: So I’m expected to be nice to all your friends?

Rockstar: <nodding emphatically > Yeah.

Me: What if your friends are not nice to me?

Rockstar: I’ll be nicer to the ones that are nice to you!

So I come in for the first time to volunteer on the K2 floor, and Rockstar jumps up before they’ve quite finished their lesson on caterpillars transforming into butterflies (come to think of it I vaguely remember Rockstar coming home and reciting the lifecycle of a frog several days ago). Off they all go to wash up for snack, while I’m brought to a “literacy corner” with magnetic alphabet writing aids and chalkboards…

Except a good part of the 45 minutes some of Rockstar’s schoolmates request I read them some of the books in the library corner, so we end up doing that (I must’ve been less interesting with alphabet writing) – and no sign of Rockstar. Not even when I’m picking up my bag to leave. Finally he’s one of the last in, as the other kids are gathering for their Quiet Reading Time; he requests a book which I end up totally improvising just to finish up quickly (was late – had tea appointment with friend who leaves for Singapore the next day – in fact I would’ve left already but I was waiting for him to come in because I hadn’t seen him all session).

And then when I see him again after school…

Me: S-oo… should Mummy still come help out in school?

Rockstar: <firmly> Yes. You have to come.

Me: Uh, you realize we hardly saw each other?

Rockstar: I was busy in the playground. We were playing hide and seek. 

Me: That’s fine dear, but you still like that I came in even if we didn’t see each other?

Rockstar: Yes Mum. We were both busy. You were busy upstairs, I was busy downstairs.  

Ok, so apparently he likes me to go in anyway – fine by me, better than him being all clingy (though the mum in me will always be a little “Really meh? Don’t need Mummy already meh? So soon?”) 

Rockstar: Mum. I saw (classmate) being nice to you. I’ll be nicer to her tomorrow.

Ok, a little mollified.

Get your game face on, Mum...

Posted in Rockstarisms, School For Rockstar | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

The Rockstar And The Tipping Point

“It’s a book about change. In particular, it’s a book that presents a new way of understanding why change so often happens as quickly and as unexpectedly as it does.” – Malcolm Gladwell, on his book The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make A Big Difference.

(Random thoughts caveat: This is for fun and pregnancy cravings)

There are things initially deemed super uncool. From clothing choices, to behavior that is considered outré – unconventional, or even undesirable. And then suddenly something tips, and what’s out is in, and vice versa. One moment Hush Puppy shoes are the Ugliest Things For Feet. Next thing you know they’re So Ugly They’re Cool.

There is the Power of Context: What the prevailing wisdom is at the time, what affects popular opinion. Like one Bernhard Goetz, white and in his late 30s, who shoots at 4 rowdy black teenagers (later determined to all have criminal records for burglary etc) on a subway in Manhattan in the ’80s, after they try to extort USD 5 from him. The second shot he very deliberately fires into one already-prone teenager paralyzes the boy for life.

In the era of Goetz’s shooting, people were peeing in public places, dodging the fare or getting mugged. Goetz was heralded as a kind of vigilante. By the mid ’90s however, when New York was then viewed one of the safest big cities and the paralyzed teenager brought a second suit against Goetz, it had become “inconceivable” anyone who pulled a gun could be called a hero for it.

What happens when these phenomena affect parenting decisions?

As an illustration of context in say, parenting choices, Amy Chua’s Battle Hymn Of A Tiger Mother comes out and mums everywhere either love or hate being called Tigermums. (I would just say “hate,” except I do meet mums who have referred proudly to themselves thus – not so much about their kids producing results, I think partly they pride themselves on the discipline involved, that they aren’t Wussy, Wimp-out Parent… I think.)

At what point would Tiger Parenting say, be viewed as Bernhard Goetz, Subway Vigilante? When does it become Bernhard Goetz at the time of the paralyzed teenager bringing a second lawsuit, in one of the safest big cities?

At what point does the Product of Tiger Parenting look around him/ her and become an angry, resentful young adult who has to pretend they want to see you at CNY? For that matter, when does “Aw, can’t do Rocket Science? Don’t worry ’bout it, I Still Love You, YOU’RE AWESOME!!” inspire your child to then grow up, turn around, and go, “What the hell were you thinking, Mum? Now I have to work twice as hard in life!”

At what point do other parenting choices we make become viewed as over the top? Is it possible to develop something like Emperor’s New Clothes Syndrome toward the ultra-expensive private schools? It’s no longer considered ok to cane kids at assembly like they used to decades ago, is it?

(I recently attended the parent briefing at a relatively much more expensive international school, and rather than inspire the desired reaction of feeling like we would be contributing towards “a legacy,” I somehow ended up more along the lines of, “And the pool we are donating towards gets my child into Harvard…. how?” (Ok this is my own hangup because as a little kid I’d once had other kids make me feel like crap about how many times they travelled to see the various Disneylands, how much better their piano was… Then again it did inspire me to get my grade 8 on a broken down thing with keys that didn’t work while all the snobby piano kids dropped out. Though I only just finally visited HK Disney (and no others) last Christmas aged 35.)

I just think stuff is no use without motivating the child – what I had wanted to hear was how much that expensive school might put into say, special training for staff – how to identify and work around various learning challenges, how to identify and nurture giftedness among students. Because it is the staff that will interact with my child every day. It is the staff that have the ability to motivate, even if they are not in a world-class facility. 

Don’t get me wrong. I’m actually more worried about corner-cutting than over-expenditure, HK is an expensive city. But the push to introduce corporate donors, individuals or yourself as a donor (and what we were told it would be used for in this case) was starting to sound like spending heaps developing a ball-point pen that could write in outer space when you could use a pencil.

(To be fair when I mentioned it to a mum whose child attends this school, she said “Yeah I’d agree. They’re not all like that – we can’t stand the guy who delivered your talk either…”)

Yeah I’m a simple girl. I just want my child to go to Harvard. Here types a miserable FAIL of a potential parent candidate for a certain expensive private school. (Rockstar might have done fine; Kings and I are gonna fail meet-the-parents, cos it’s not likely I can keep my big mouth shut instead of asking that-which-probably-should-not-be-asked: Is The Emperor Wearing Anything? I… don’t think we’ll be going back there..)

Here’s another Power of Context illustration. Based on the biblical story of the Good Samaritan in the Gospel of Luke, Princeton psychologists Darley and Batson conducted a study at the Princeton Theological Seminary. Each seminarian in the study was required to walk to a nearby building to deliver a short talk on a biblical theme, passing a man in distress who had been planted. Each seminarian was also told whether they were early or late getting to their next appointment, just before leaving the building.

It turned out when told they were late, maybe 10% stopped to help, but when they knew they had time, 63% stopped. (There’s a lesson in there about human nature despite our best spiritual intentions too, which is probably another of a myriad of reasons we pray about fallen nature, but anyway..)

Frankly, I wouldn’t have stopped. I’d be afraid I’d be mugged by someone who was drunk and probably not realize this person was mugged not high (hit-and-run is another story). That’s another thing – interpretation, misunderstanding can also trump best intentions.

Power of context (whether they thought they were late) in this particular example was so much more persuasive than a person’s character/ values. Here’s a parenting analogy. Recently, a mum told me how she’d gotten so stressed with her lower-primary school-aged daughter’s schoolwork, she’d hurled a pencil case into a wall. Sitting there, enjoying her conversation and her company, I couldn’t imagine her flinging anything.

I’m not sure everyone really believes “pencil-casing” works. But grouped together in a very traditional Chinese school say, with lots of other mums doing similar, you’d be more likely to follow suit. All I could think was I’d be stressed and unhappy. Then my strong-willed, doesn’t-need-to-be-pushed-when-he’s-enthused child, would be unhappy. (And therefore need to be pushed). Oh, and I’m never getting an X-box and will severely limit recreational tv for as long as I can get away with. I don’t even let Rockstar know Kings’ date night event of choice is often a movie. I can’t hurl a pencil case, but I can hide a remote.

Then I listened to conversations describing very strict “typical old Chinese school-style” teachers, like what you might get in the army I guess, and recalled the video footage of an experiment in Freakonomics: The Movie – they’d tried to pay kids to see if they would then earn more As, and an African American boy said, “I can promise milk and cookies, but if the oven is broke, you just get milk.” (Kings and I thought that was pretty smart – we also couldn’t imagine your average very traditional Chinese/ Asian school child saying it. Even if the Asian child had a lot more As on paper. The black kid did however deliver the cookies though.)

Well, when does eloquence and original thought in little kids become more highly priced than typically traditional “obedience” and sitting quietly, delivering a string of As?

Without knowing anything else about the subject, when I first read What Harvard Owes Its Top Asian-American Applicants, I wondered if that (or at least the perception of that) had something to do with it. That traditional sitting quietly and delivering strings of As wasn’t completely cutting it.

Then again, if you had two players with a fairly equal score – one that had been “trained” (or well, pushed to read and regurgitate at the possible expense of originality of thought) and one “less trained”, who do you take? The one who hasn’t been “trained,” obviously – because train that one and…….. yeah, you get my point. You might even get more original ideas to boot…

At some point the delivery (or not), of strings of As at the expense of originality and initiative seems to be tipping, too. Because at the end of the day, drill all the initiative out of the child and who will one day grow up to write the extraordinary dissent? The idea or concept so ahead of its time, so out of the box, as to not yet have tipped, yet is crucial to the development of further ideas… that have not been drummed in and regurgitated in exchange for a string of As.

Y-eah. So this post has been so long in coming, and now it’s long and waffly, lemme redeem myself:

There.

Rockstar calls this work of art, “I ate a lemon.” (He has, btw, never eaten a lemon. The boy will eat sea snail, but oh, the sour taste of a lemon is yucky scary? Go figure.)

Then again society is full of Emperor’s New Clothes Phenomenons isn’t it? Can’t understand it, can’t understand why everyone else loves it – not knowing everyone else feels the same way secretly. Someday some brave soul goes “This is bullshit. I don’t want to hurl a pencil case against the wall anymore about my child’s handwriting.” And then more people go Hell, yeah! That guy’s not wearing anything! What’s the matter with you??

So what I really learnt was: Be prepared to keep tweaking and revising my parenting style. Today’s “conventional wisdom” could be tomorrow’s “reviled Tiger Parenting style” by the time your child hits his/her teens. Either that or you end up with a robot.

Posted in Rockstar Thoughts | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

“My Crazy Sister”

Found this video ages ago, but had no reason to put it up… Just that we used to live next door to an Asian family who’d moved here from Sydney, and would observe the raising of their teenaged boy and girl, about 3-4 years apart in age, with interest. Back then it was with mild surprise that we noticed their mum was on her kids’ Facebook, then I realized our pastor is on his kids’ Facebook and Twitter and all too, and now I start to understand increasingly why. (Link for video here..)

Sorry bout the language… beyond that though, I thought it was hilarious how the bro put this thing together about his relationship with his sis… Our neighbors’ kids used to Facebook each other things like, “Can you open my (bedroom) door for me, too lazy to get up,” and “F– off do it yourself,” all with their mum friended on their Facebooks. The video had kinda reminded me of them…

When I then went to search for a few more of this boy’s videos, I found one where at one point his dad, checking on him re (I guess) homework and stuff, happened to interrupt his taping and was therefore caught in the background. Can’t remember what language he was speaking to his dad, but watching him rattle off (I guess) some stuff his traditional-looking dad must have asked him to do, then seeing the dad nod approvingly in the background before closing the door, really brought new light to what this kid was like on camera. I initially thought it was such a powerful illustration of the contrasting generic “Asian” vs “Western” stereotypes.

Then a local Hongkie cabbie told me once that he’d caught his 14 year old daughter sleeping on a beach somewhere, after checking her friends’ Facebook updates – she had been sent to Singapore for schooling, had stolen her own passport from her guardian in Singapore, hopped a plane back to HK a day ago and spent the night yes, on a HK beach. So now I’m more, “Y-eah. Teens everywhere are probably a little like that, even if they don’t all hop a plane or spoof you on Youtube. Enjoy while you can…”

PS: Thanks for all the suggestions – Rock Princess, Little Miss Rockstar, Rock Chick… Will take note and decide (sorry) much later, hopefully when she comes out and we have some idea whether she behaves more like a Princess or a Rockstar Chick or…

Rockstar was dubbed Rockstar to begin with due to him being such a holy terror as a baby and toddler… My Facebook baby albums used to be titled, “It’s Not Easy Being A Rockstar” because he was so un-easygoing and there were people around lots of children (like his old pediatrician) who would say things like “You really need to fix that before he becomes unbearable as he gets older…” (So it was with much amusement that I encountered the question recently, “Why’s he The Rockstar, is he talented? Can he sing?” <snort>) 

Posted in aileensml | 2 Comments

“Boy!”

"IT'S A ---- !!!"

Me: Ok, last chance. Mummy’s going to the doctor while you’re at school today. Boy or girl?

Rockstar: Boy!

Me: Why?

Rockstar: Because I talk to boys better! Because I enjoy being a boy! 

After school/ gynea trip…

Me: So Rockstar, ready to know if it’s a boy or a girl?

Rockstar: I have to pee.

Me: Ok, ready now? <Thinking: quick tell him, before he can tell me he wants a boy> We’re having a girl.

Rockstar: <Not unpleasantly surprised> Oh! I thought it was a boy. It’s really not a boy? (Classmates) also said boy… <thinking> Actually no, they said boy and girl. 

Me: Well probably because they didn’t want to be wrong. If they guess both they’ve got to be half right. Mummy’s got to be having either a boy or a girl.

Rockstar: What am I going to say to a girl? I don’t know what to talk about to girls. 

Me: That’s ok darling, your father doesn’t either, but I married him anyway. You’ve got girl friends in school you play with every day.

Rockstar: Oh yeah. But I like being a boy <like he’s feeling sorry for the baby having to be a girl>

Me: The baby might like being a girl. Your girl friends like being girls, don’t they? <Rockstar looks dubious – apparently how can anyone like being a girl when they could be a boy> And now all your friends have something different, including you – you’re the only one with a baby sister (of his good friends), aren’t you?

Rockstar: (One of his best friends) has a baby brother. (Another best friend) has an older sister. Oh – but (girl classmate) has a baby sister. Well two, actually – twins. 

Me: Wow, that many girls?

Rockstar: <shaking his head with What Does One Do With So Many Girls expression> Ye-eah! Cra-zy! 

Me: You going to tell your friends tomorrow at school?

Rockstar: Yeah! We’re having a girl!

Me: You could ask them what they know about baby girls. And any suggestions how to talk to them.

Rockstar: <gravely, accentuated by pointy index figure and frown-y expression> I-have-to-protect-the-baby-from-naughty-people-pushing!

(Because he’s forever conscious of being tiny and one of the younger kids in school… Though I wouldn’t rule out him frothing at the mouth if the baby touches some of his stuff. He and the dog bicker all the time… And he says snobby things like, “I have nothing to say to K1s.”)

Rockstar: <still with superhero expression> Mum. Can I have a bunk bed? 

Me: <?? thinking: How did we start talking about bunk beds> Why?

Rockstar: Because taking care of a baby can make me tired. I don’t want to do it all the time. Sometimes I need to hide and do my own things.

**Update: Quick as a flash, I followed CA’s advice (comments) about Charlie and Lola… To this result:

Me: Hey! I just remembered! You wanted to be like Charlie and Lola with the baby, remember?

Rockstar: Oh yeah! Can we name the baby Lola? 

Me: Umm… But your name isn’t Charlie anyway.

Rockstar: <without skipping a beat> Yeah. Can we change it to Charlie?

Uh…. I walked right into that one.

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Well so maybe there’s something to old wives’ tales from the “girl” guesses in this post. “You were fairly sure it was a girl, weren’t you?” I accuse my gynea, because looking back at our conversations she did seem to be expecting a girl… Come to think of it everyone except Rockstar was expecting a girl. To which she replies that from my account (which I agree with), the giveaway was this pregnancy felt so very different from Rockstar’s… 

“I wouldn’t say ‘sure’… Some women want one or the other so badly they fool themselves when observing the symptoms…” Which was probably why she kept asking me if I had a preference. I really don’t. I’m just dying to know, kind of like if you flip a coin and go “Boy – I shall raise him thus; Girl – I shall raise her thus…” and not being able to think that far for not knowing what we’re getting drives me nuts. 

“What about when people say second pregnancy is always different from the first?” this was my Mum’s.

“Every woman is different. But if there’s a big difference in symptoms from one pregnancy to the next it does imply you’re carrying something quite different…”

Well can’t argue with that. The morning sickness is easing, but I dream all the time. The most bizarre dreams like I’m high on something (wasn’t Yellow Submarine allegedly written when the Beatles were high?), several every night, and I wake often. With Rockstar, I just slept like a log. And fought with Legal & Compliance at work. 

Now, what am I going to call Baby Girl Rockstar?

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