Things That Go Bump In The Night

Posted on May 24, 2012 by admin

Nights are the worst. Can’t remember when was the last time I didn’t wake up in the night either drenched in sweat or coughing my lungs out. Doc said to support my belly if I cough. Hah! Who has the time or inclination? Too busy trying to keep my insides in.

If Rockstar’s next to me, sometimes I hear a click, and if I turn to look up at the ceiling, I see blue stars scattered above us. Rockstar has this habit of re-arranging his Metkids-bought turtle night light “just so” on a box of Mr Men books (it has to be on that box), then toggling it to the “blue star light” setting before going back to sleep. The turtle switches itself off after 45 mins.

When we’re not co-sleeping, I wander in at night and half the time the turtle is on – meaning Rockstar’s woken in the night recently. Come to think of it, before the night light, if we were holding hands, you’d think he was asleep, and then insistent little fingers would adjust your fingers over his other hand just so, before settling back for the night. Little things I never knew to miss, back when I still worked and enforced a strict No Co-Sleeping rule. When I worked, uninterrupted sleep was a cardinal rule. What if I made a mistake at work the next day because I was tired? I hate mistakes at work. It’s why I rarely made them. Now all that’s a myth. And I feel fine!

<Amazed> Hyperchondriac Me, who must get 6 straight hours or the next work/ school day is ruined, can’t remember when she last got 6 straight hours – or her day ruined.

After Rockstar’s night cough, I got sick for real. Pain. Real. In my throat, where my body is convinced I am trying to down glass or at least a golf ball with every swallow. (Had the family doc check it out at behest of Gynea, who warned prolonged sore throats could affect the baby – doc said it was just going to be very uncomfortable for me but I could still do without the meds if I really wanted, so I did.)

I repaired to Rockstar’s Disney Cars-decked room, sans collar chain-rattling dog, night light-flicking child, and snoring husband. Well, almost. After the first night, half the time the dog now parks herself directly under the air-conditioner in Rockstar’s room, propping all four legs up against the wall in supplication of Flo and Ramone.

Without most of the noise however, I could now concentrate on the real night deal: having my insides kicked around. How thick is the womb lining? An image of the baby moving my insides about through the sac insinuates itself in my head: Building blocks! Stacking Rings! Squeeze toy!

Maybe it has to do with Rockstar. Someone pointed out we often don’t converse with him like he’s 4, and as a result I recently found myself viewing my wobbling belly as…….. A friend, or at least acquaintance of mine. One who is sticky about medications, my occasional half-shot-of-espresso, and no wine (Shiraz! How I miss you so!) Buddy, not baby. My little Mormon buddy, entertaining herself in the middle of the night – the only time she wouldn’t hear Rockstar’s piping voice – with my innards.

(It’s not over when she’s out, since I want to breastfeed… (Though at least I can pump and dump if I’ve been drinking or medicating, have to admit I rarely pumped and dumped, meaning I rarely drank or medicated in the year I expressed milk for Rockstar around the dealing room schedule). But I’m thinking what changes will be more like Now, Where Have I Left My Buddy This Time? <Looking around for baby carriage>)

The baby doesn’t like when I lie flat on my back. It’s how I “check” she’s kicking, rather than sit through the day waiting to make sure she’s kicking fine. (What did Babycenter.com say, 10 kicks in 2 hours at least?) That came in useful when I initially wanted to show Rockstar baby kicks – lie flat on my back and usually it’s not long before we get a little nudge in protest. (My Gynea would explain it’s because the position cuts off blood flows a bit, which this baby seems fussy about. My belly wobbles in annoyance when my Gynea examines me on my back…) But Rockstar’s now passed the It Moves! It’s Alive! A-liiiiiive! Phase. We’re now in the Without Looking Up From Lego On Bed Next To Me: “Your belly’s wobbling again..” <jaded Been There, Done That expression>

I think she’s saying things to me too. Either that or prolonged lack of sleep is giving me hallucinations:

Sorry, Mum, need to move the furniture around in here. I don’t understand what 3am is yet, either. Did I wake you?

<nudge> And the sofa should go…. Here!

<ripple> But it’s too close to the tv…

<kick> Dusting…

Now, this piques Rockstar’s interest. “What’s the baby saying, Mum?” “She can hear your voice, she knows you’re reading to her.” “She’s saying she’ll be well taken care of, with such a responsible big brother.” (Shut up. If my thin-skinned fusspot son gives me problems when the baby comes……. He was hard enough to handle when there was only one of him, two like that and I could turn to a life of crime or drugs. It’s not like she’s going to be able to say No I’m Not Saying That, Mum’s Making Up Crap Again for awhile… I’ll….. think of something else when she’s out and I have some idea what she’s like.)

“She’s saying she couldn’t ask for a better role model in an older sibling, darling.”

“Whatthebabysaying,Whatthebabysaying, WHATTHEBABYSAYING NOW, MU-UM?”

She’s Saying Shut Up And Leave Your Mother To Vegetate. “Mum” is now a cow who needs like, 30 seconds to roll herself into a sitting position to face you.

How the hell do elephants stay pregnant for almost 2 years? No wonder they’re endangered.

Morning comes and Rockstar’s room door swings silently open. A wary, “Did you have a good sleep, Mum?” greets me. But the real reason I remember to make extra effort to invite him into his red race car bed for a cuddle – and SMILE – is because he’s looking at me like he’s Sigourney Weaver with the flame thrower and I’m the toothy Alien Queen dripping acid-saliva from my fangs and laying umpteen eggs that will hatch into those scrabbly spider-things that spit alien spawn into your mouth, wrap their legs around your head and wait til the spawn is big enough to chew its way out your stomach. I mean, I like Ms Weaver and all, but really, if I had to birth that many evil little things……… I’m just saying right now I understand why Alien Queen is such a bitch.

When did I actually go all hissy Alien Queen on Rockstar? Can’t remember, exactly. But I consider it too often anyway. Cos I feel crap too often. In a perfect world I should’ve been snapping at him if he deserved it – not because I lost control, couldn’t keep my temper, had a bad day. I do apologize after, if I think I was too short with him (he and I strive to be “very fair” about this – I do it this way to encourage him to always tell me the truth, even if, especially if it’s his fault), but it’s just been a long, long pregnancy, this one. Please dear Lord, please may the baby’s arrival be better, not worst than this.    

Rockstar climbs in and burrows under my covers gleefully. It’s still another blissful 15 minutes or so, before we finally hear Kings’ voice at the open door. “Hey! It’s early, I told you to go back to sleep! WHEN did you invite yourself in here??”

Sigh. So unevenly matched, the two males in our home, for the battle that lies ahead……

Rockstar still in PJs, already going nuts with his solar system stuff...

PS: In case you’re wondering, the one time I remember actually going all Alien Queen, Rockstar then innocently said “JD wanted to come in,” (the dog goes for a walk with our helper first thing in the morning) and then closed the door and went looking for something else to entertain himself. Boy, they learn to pass the buck fast…….

Posted in Rockstar Thoughts, Talking To Rockstar | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

The Singapore Blog Awards 2012 Finalist Post

Posted on May 23, 2012 by admin

Best Family Blog of the Singapore Blog Awards 2012’s finalist post as instructed <deep breath> Obviously I’m very seasoned……………..Haha NOT. <pores over instructions again> Ok. I have to answer these questions on a blog post:

1.    How do you feel about being one of the finalists in Singapore Blog Awards 2012?

Amazed. I actually have a blog. It’s actually in the Top Ten Best Family Blogs at the Singapore Blog Awards 2012. I will put the official finalist badge up with honor.

2.    When did you start blogging and what drew you to it?

Barely two years ago; my husband wanted to build a blog platform, after an entire book case of social networking and media books, and a man-crush on The Facebook Guy. Other men have golf hobbies, my husband had this. And he is after all not allowed to set me aside for anything less than Cindy Crawford. Or a man. I suppose I could share him with some guy named Mark.

My hub and friends needed a guinea pig blog they could experiment on, that’s really why I started. It wasn’t like they could go to other bloggers and say “Can you try out this blog platform we are building from scratch and tell us what sucks? Oh, and you could lose your entire blog while you’re at it.” That’s pretty much what happened to my blog quite a few times. Stuff would go missing, come out garbled – a couple times the entire blog disappeared. Often the servers were down….. I sometimes got emails/Facebooks from people I didn’t know, saying they were sorry I had “quit blogging.” N-ot a good way to build readership. But it was a humbling reminder that I blog first and foremost for a readership of one: Rockstar. Two, counting Baby Rockstar who is about to be born. (Back then we didn’t know if we would be blessed with another). It’s possible my husband read my blog on occasion, while he was slicing and dicing it. That’s fine too.

I hadn’t expected to love blogging so much, the unexpected element being other readers. I have shy readers I’ve never met who reach out with long, personal messages, but otherwise remain fairly anonymous to one other – and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Every heartfelt email/ comment to me is worth countless happy smiley faces and mono-syllabic comments that don’t say anything, least of all help me get better at my own parenting. We are all parents. We all know the challenges. We admit the challenges and our own weaknesses in dealing with them – and it helps us all raise our kids better.

As my hub and friends moved on to new interests, it became increasingly difficult to see the blog someday have to go. Who would be left to maintain the blog platform, after they’d all found new hobbies?

Unbeknownst to me, my hub was coming home each night from his already-grueling day job and quietly transferring all my blog entries onto WordPress under a new URL. That was about a year ago, and 250 blog entries. When he stopped with his hobby, I got to keep mine.

That’s also a story for The Rockstars someday – how their pole-opposites-in-all-things-that-matter-less parents constantly have to work at family and marriage. Cos it’s just  bullshit, that any of these things in life comes easy.

Where do you get inspiration for your blog content?

The blog is a continuing story for my kids to understand what it’s like to live in this world (their parents’ time anyway), raise them, strive to be a “good” parent and person, amid the challenges life will inevitably bring. Amid the fact sometimes I really don’t feel like being a “good” parent and person. Having a faith helps.

I don’t think I’d raise The Rockstars any different without the blog. But if my hub hadn’t had the Zuckerberg Man-Crush, this would’ve been a diary, a book.

Parent blogging is a little different from other blogging I would say – you’re writing about your passion, yes. But that “passion” is going to grow older, have friends who use search engines, encounter bullies in a social media world with new “rules” we had not encountered in our own time growing up…

That’s predominantly why we went back and scrubbed Rockstar’s name off the blog – so it wouldn’t turn up on search engines if/when his friends came of age to start googling each other. I hoped it would allow me to talk more openly. On one hand the blog isn’t worth having if it has no blood, no feeling, flowing in the writing. On the other hand if the blog be truly a love story for my kids first and foremost, I have to be prepared to take it offline for their benefit if I ever have to.

It’s hard to be stuck up when you remind yourself about that. I bet parent bloggers often feel this way – bloggers write about their passion, their obsession – and if that’s our kids we also have to worry whether we’re gonna land them in therapy from the blogging.

Grow it too fast, too aggressively and suddenly it can negate its whole purpose of helping your parenting, by attracting haters or bullies and what-not.

I call that the Paradox of the Parent Blog.

3.    How do you feel about the other Finalists in your category this year?

Intimidated! Some are professionals who’ve won or been placed in some big competitions, and I didn’t even know what a blog platform was til my husband wanted one. In that sense, it’s flattering to even place among them – at the very least it’ll be great to follow their blogs regularly from now on, it can only help me improve my own parenting of The Rockstars.

How do you think you will fare compared to them?

<sheepish> I don’t know. I have so much to learn about blogging.

4.    Give a reason why readers should visit your blog and vote for you?

Because they like the blog, because I rarely hold back when I write – not feelings, not flaws, not mistakes.

The Rockstar thinks readers should vote about this continuing story about raising him (and how he shall raise his younger sister who will be arriving soon to “not be a yucky girl who likes princess dresses”) “because no one (his) age is better than (him) at Lego.” He made me type that.

Update: Crap, I just realized people usually include a link so readers can actually vote for them. In fact some have whole posts showing people how to do it. Here’s the link, please vote for me?

http://sgblogawards.omy.sg/2012/category/?cat=family&seq=8

(I know, I am just SAD.)

Posted in aileensml, Talking To Rockstar | 18 Comments

The “Malaysia is part of the Solar System” Show & Tell

Posted on May 21, 2012 by admin

From Rockstar’s weekly school email one day: ….. all K2 children to participate in a special “Show & Tell”…… We are asking for children to gather artifacts (photographs, drawings, flags, maps, objects) that identify their home. Keep the questions above in mind when selecting items for sharing. For children that have lived in different countries, they are invited to bring in as many items as they need to discuss where they have lived and where they are currently living. For children that are native to Hong Kong, can you please focus on your home and the specific area where you are currently living (ex. Pokfulam, Causeway Bay, Repulse Bay, Discovery Bay)………..

Ordinarily I would’ve been quite pleased – and Rockstar’s class is quite multiracial, that I know of he’s got American, Aussie, Canadian, Indian, Hongkie, Taiwanese heritages all mixed in – but this time I’m stumped about what to let Rockstar bring in. He’s brought everything that’s relevant and “cool” that I can think of to school at least several times before. Especially his Tourism Malaysia bug collection.

When your child is the tiniest AND has a real “Thou Shalt Not Push Nor Make Other Red Choices” stick-up-your-butt attitude about “rules” you kinda try to give him cooler stuff to bring to school in the hopes potential friends of his will overlook the proverbial tiny “Phua Chu Being” imagery (in the opening credits of Singapore sitcom Phua Chu Kang when all the other kids are running around with a soccer ball there’s this little bespectacled kid everyone ignores who’s calling ineffectively after them, “Hey that’s MY ball!”……… And no one cares.)

Bespectacled Phua Chu Beng 

So Show n Tell. The Rockstar loves bringing in “cool” stuff (“cool” being a matter of opinion, mainly, His and his Partners In Crime’s) or getting to tell some “cool” fact (see above re definition of “cool”.) So my problem now is I don’t have anything “cool” Rockstar can bring re Malaysia that he hasn’t brought at least several times before. And I would try in vain to find something Cyberport-related that Rockstar could bring in (well we are Malaysians living in the Cyberport area). No luck.

Then at some point, Rockstar tells me he wants to talk about the solar system at his next Show n Tell. Darn. More good news for me. The school said………….! Ordinarily I might have a more “why not get used to doing well within the rules” attitude, especially as Rockstar gets older, because at the end of the day you can’t win a sporting competition or get good grades by not following the rules of the sport and you’d flunk an exam for writing an essay out of point. (With debates at secondary and varsity level I used to bemoan this – if you draw a topic you suck at, or come up on the wrong side of the argument (you personally believe say, “Deep Blue Has Put Us In Deep Shit” but have been given the opposing side to argue), you curse and swear and then you have to do the best job you can anyway.)

BUT – I thought this was possibly Rockstar’s last Kindergarten Show n Tell. I wanted him to really, REALLY enjoy it and come out feeling very confident, because he’s about to experience a new sibling with lotsa baby crying chaos, AND a new primary school where I’m almost certain even if he isn’t the absolute smallest child across 6 grades, he’s gonna figure in like, the top 3. 6 grades, there are gonna be much bigger kids at the new school. To be fair to Rockstar, with a little luck he can hold his own in conversations with older kids and at Playtown/ Funzone nowadays fairly often succeeds in attaching himself to some friendly child who towers head and shoulders above him – but I do worry a little that for every friendly and kind “upper class man” there’s also gonna be one (or a group of em) going “he’s too little to be here…”

And so I try to get out of following the theme in favor of the solar system. However, having neglected initially to explain to his teacher why I want to let him do what he wants, I get a note in his diary saying he’s gotta at least do Malaysia first and maybe the solar system after. Ok, guess K2 Show n Tells are getting more serious, in preparation for Pri 1. Ah well…….

Next morning however, when I actually have to prepare Rockstar for his Show n Tell is when I start to curse and swear about it (unbeknownst to Rockstar, of course – blowing up would negate having him enjoy the school activity anyway). Because I freaking can’t get my child interested. The difference in motivation levels is obvious. Any other time it wouldn’t matter that much, its just cos this might be his last Show n Tell and it’s the one he’s going to remember and take with him to his new primary school life that I’m a little worried. For the first time I even text Kings in my frustration. As I watch faintly dismayed at Rockstar glazing his eyes over yet another Tourism Malaysia YouTube, my phone buzzes in reply.

“You still prefer to talk about the solar system, don’t you?” <vigorous hopeful nod> “Then I think your best bet is to get the Malaysia bits over with and then relate how that fits in the world, planet Earth, and yes the solar system.”

Old pic – Ages ago the dog was mad jealous about Rockstar’s playmat especially when I wouldn’t let her on it (she likes balls and rugs for her basket) so when I happened to find a “matching” rubber ball at Stanley Market I bought it for her…

Rockstar starts jumping up and down gleefully as I pick up JD’s rubber ball which bizarrely looks like a globe. Rockstar locates Malaysia, close to the Equator (he claims he remembered to explain in school that Malaysia is hot all year round because of its position near the Equator, as is Singapore which he also visits pretty often, I’m dubious because I know he couldn’t wait to launch into a Solar System and Planet soliloquy). Relates that to planet Earth being the third planet from the Sun and the only one with life on it because it is neither too close nor too far away…….. And we’re off to the races. I’m not even paying attention anymore, he’s been blurting solar system facts for small talk for a week anyway. We’ve gotten stopped by people who overhear and are a little surprised by Pluto Being A Dwarf Planet (maybe they also think he’s 3 years old).

So I print a few Malaysia-related pictures off the internet and write down the keywords. Quite a “cheat”, cos I tell Rockstar to make sure he’s said those words before he gallops off on the solar system rant and I manage to talk him into leaving his solar system mobile at home in favor of a simple printed picture because in the first place we weren’t suppose to veer that off topic.

At the end of the day, I collect a prone Rockstar, completely knocked out fast asleep in the back of the car, and find a note in his diary to say he managed to relate Malaysia to its place on Earth and in the solar system. Idly I wonder if he simply went, “Multi-racial Peoples, Agriculture, Tourism, Forestry, This is Malaysia on Planet Earth” – and then got lost in space.

(Oh, and that’s the book we’ve been reading – I found it at OUB Center, Raffles Place Singapore, on a recent trip :P)

PS: Rockstar knows the Rock Planets, Gas Planets, all 8 planets and a few dwarf planets (because of Pluto having been relegated to dwarf status in 2006), why other planets are uninhabitable (he just learned in school how plants and other living things need sunlight, water and air to grow so he could relate), and yes there are times when I think WHY didn’t I just use that crazy obsessiveness for memorizing multiplication tables or learning an instrument… Except like the Lego, the solar system kinda happened because I hadn’t wanted to park him in front of the tv when I felt sick from the pregnancy and had to lie down. Aside from spending an obscene amount on Lego, I’d offered to read him anything he wanted when I was in bed – and for a week it’s been a book about yes, the solar system.

Posted in School For Rockstar, Talking To Rockstar | 7 Comments

Rockstarism #209 – The Baby Prep Rockstarisms

Posted on May 19, 2012 by admin

Recently, Kings had been caring for Rockstar more, as I slowly recovered from a cough and cold – resulting in him being unable to leave the home at any time without announcing his intentions at least 15 minutes earlier, because that’s how long it takes to detach a deliberately clingy Rockstar (who loves seeing how much he can get away with, with his father…) So as the door closes behind Kings on another such morning…..

#209

Me: When Mummy’s in the hospital having the baby you’re really gonna torture Daddy aren’t you?

<Rockstar grins and nods his head vigorously>

Me: There’s no egg in your breakfast again (because he keeps pulling wide-eyed, straight-faced, “I don’t eat eggs for breakfast, Daddy,” when actually he has two with noodles or fried rice most mornings.. In fact Rockstar has gotten away with the same several times, because Kings usually forgets…). Do you think you could maybe help Daddy out a little by telling him what you really eat/ when you really sleep/wake up etc when I’m having the baby?

Rockstar: Nope. Can’t. Too much fun.

————————–

Rockstar: <quietly, seriously> Mum. Would the baby one day be bigger than me?

(I’m thinking Oh Dear, it had crossed my mind – I often tell Rockstar part of the reason he’s the smallest in school is cos he’s youngest – and I was wondering when/if he realized he is however also very small for his own age…)

Me: Yes, darling, it’s possible she could grow to be bigger than you are. But you have a 4-year head start so she probably won’t be able to catch up for a very long time even if she was meant to grow taller than you are.

Rockstar: <brightens visibly> Like maybe in Grade 10?

Me: Yeah, something like that. And 4 years developmentally is a lot, until you’re grown up you’ll be learning the cooler stuff for older kids despite any size difference…

Rockstar: Ok, I’m fine with that.

————————–

Random pic on the Peak: "1, 2, 3, 4, 5......." We were wondering how he caught those, until we saw some older kids with fish nets... There's a stream nearby and it's summer, and the older kids had lotsa little catfish and tadpoles in plastic tanks... They gave him a catfish and 3 tadpoles... If I knew how to care for those tadpoles I'd have let Rockstar bring a few home, we released them when we left, long after the other kids were gone; what we're really trying to find in the park now are caterpillar cocoons - at least you don't need to worry about feeding them...

Posted in Rockstarisms | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Rockstarism #208 – Another Lego Superheroes Comic Book Story

Posted on May 17, 2012 by admin

#208

We bought another Lego Superheroes set… Also thanks to my girlfriend who told me about a Lego Superheroes iPhone App that allows you to make your own “animation” based on your finished Legos, complete with background sound effects and comic book style “Boom”s and “Crash”es. Someday maybe I’ll actually have a workable Youtube to post. Meantime…….

Rockstar: The car with Two-face inside shot a bomb. The banker was trying to get his parcel with the money, but the car didn’t dare let go.

(Rockstar absolutely refused to accept the idea that this was a bank robbery. He insists Two-face was delivering money to this bank.)

Me: “Didn’t dare”? That implies fear. Why were they scared to let go?

Rockstar: Because they were scared if they let the banker have the money he will run away with the money.

(By all means, enjoy yourselves 🙂

Rockstar: And then Two-face was throwing a coin in the air and the banker was still holding on to the money.

And then the coin landed on the scraped side so Twoface was bad! <checks my notes> …. Exclamation mark (after “bad”). Yes. . 

And then Two-face kicked the banker. And then one of Two-face’s helpers was laughing because it was so funny.

The club car was shooting its gun!

(They all belong to the same “club” because they are all dressed the same.)

And then the club people were parking their car so they didn’t see the Bat Guy’s car flying over their car.

And then the club car was tilting with the people inside and they were wondering what’s going on and then the Bat Car went Shah-loooooom! So loud. 

And then the Bat Car shot a bullet. Oh. Two, actually. And then the club people worried how to get away from the bullets. 

Thoom! Thoom! Vreeeeeee! <derives special pleasure in reading the word sounds and making the sounds super loud>

And then it almost hit the club people’s car. And then the Bat Guy in the Bat Guy’s car was puzzled.

Me: Uh, why was he puzzled?

Rockstar: He didn’t know he could make the guns work.

"Bat Guy's Confused Face"

The End.

 

Posted in Rockstarisms, Talking To Rockstar | 4 Comments

Screw It Just Buy It (Or, I Threw Up In A Furniture Store So Shut Up)

Posted on May 16, 2012 by admin

Horribly irresponsible post alert?

What if you tell some poor depressed soul she can’t buy something just a wee bit out of her budget and she goes and kills herself?

"Happy Ending Pic" - Rockstar scarfing free (and biggest) sesame seed cookie at Tequila Kola waiting for me to finish my purchase (the nice furniture showrooms have now started offering freebie cupcakes, cookies, coffee/ tea/ babycinnos to shoppers or at least their kids)

But seriously. I’m one of those obsessive compulsives who has almost always been able to name every big-ish item on her credit card bill before she looks at it each month. When I remember to log on and check my credit card statement <sheepish> (What? If you already knew what your credit card bill probably was, wouldn’t you be a bit like me? And yes this is how the credit card fraud people get me – by slipping in tiny amounts <doubly sheepish>)

So anyway. Being one of those obsessive compulsives means I don’t know what it’s like to be in credit card debt or to spend beyond my resources. You have to understand that before you follow me on my rant about Buying Myself Some Lurve And Dignity. Yes folks, isn’t life wonderful when you have a (small!) Frivolous Shopping Fund squirreled away and can act voyeuristically (for a Virgo!) by buying something otherwise out of my budget.

Not THIS Showroom: The "UK" Section... There's an "NY" and "Paris" section too...

I threw up while exiting a (nice) furniture showroom yesterday. There was absolutely no warning. One moment I was fine, the next I was coughing ineffectively and increasingly violently (draw attention to oneself, why don’t I, the more to watch my humiliation, the merrier.) I clean up as best I can, but in the heat and discomfort, I feel filthy. Not to mention humiliated. Wretched. Of the WHY, God, Would You Possibly See Fit To Make Cough And Cold Bugs In The World?

Rockstar’s about to meet me after school. I can’t let more people see me like this. How? I text our driver to bring Rockstar home and I’ll meet them there. I stand very close to the lift, willing it to hurry up. The lift won’t come. Immaculately dressed shoppers breeze in and out of the lobby while I stand close to the wall and frantically pound the button because I desperately. Need. To. Get. Away. I smell perfume. Perfume. I have just soiled myself and am standing here, dirty and sweating, while women with gel nails and ponytails tied with scarves in impossibly high heels, giant shades and perfume saunter by. I want to just die. Except then I’d be taking the baby with me. Can’t even make that bloody selfish decision, what has my life become? <tragic hand wringing>  And where the f— is the lift??? HOW many more people are going to see me like this before I’m home??

Who Knew Feathers Grew On Trees

Out on the street where there usually is a line of waiting taxis. Today – nothing. How can that be? All those times I walked by that line after being dropped by our car… There’s never not been taxis here. It’s blazing hot on the street. But if I go indoors more people will see me. 10, 11 years in the markets, sometimes with a bank’s record number of trades to stuff through in the final hour or even minutes of trading, I have never lost it the way pregnancy and motherhood has made me lose it.

A blonde mum and her son, probably about 8, come out and wait behind me. We recognize each other, we happened to be at the same cafe earlier. I inch away. Please Dear Lord, please don’t let me stink. Another supplication soon joins the first. Please, please don’t let her notice my clothes. She’s a mum. She’ll know immediately what happened to me. Another few agonizing minutes pass and a cab pulls up to drop several shoppers off. I scurry over, but then the driver impassively waves me away and puts an Out Of Service sign in the window.

I’m standing right under the blazing sun on the street now, but somehow I can’t bring myself to step back up onto the kerb with what little shade the building offers, and where blonde mum and matching blonde boy are now watching me. She looks sympathetic. Boy has mildly disinterested stare not unlike something Rockstar’s been known to give. Please don’t let him pipe up, “Mum, what are those marks on that lady’s clothes?” Because Rockstar might. Now I know how awful that can make someone feel. Note to self: distract the Rockstar next time he looks like he’s going to do another “What’s that smell?” in the lift or what not. 

Please, please don’t look at me. I hazard a peek. Blonde Mum’s expression is too sympathetic. She knows. SHE KNOWS. Finally another cab. I hope never to see Blonde Mum again. May her husband get that plump job back in whatever exotic European country they’re from, the language of which they’re speaking. For all that empathy I hope it pays super well. Just don’t let me see her again ever.

As luck would have it, at a traffic light the cab pulls up behind our car on the way home – yes, the one with our driver, Rockstar and helper inside, on the way back from school. Of all the absolute crap to happen today… We’ve still got the bedroom-trespassing, money-borrowing, busybody-ing old driver – because I’m so bloody pregnant, it’s so bloody hot and Rockstar’s in his final term in school. Annoying Driver still doesn’t shut the hell up unless you scowl real hard. Here’s an e.g. of the worst of the very “pat” (busybody) local elderly. “Bought things again today?” “Wow, you spend a lot on Lego for Rockstar!” “Whoa your belly is big!” “When are you due?” “You don’t know when you’re due meh?”

I cannot have lip from this idiot today about what has happened to my clothes. Because I will kill him. My child will be scarred for life watching his mother bludgeon this idiot gossipy old local. When Rockstar visits me in jail he will meet the wrong kinds of friends and grow up to be a white collar crime boy.

The cabbie is kind. He willingly takes another route that lands me in the carpark lift. I apologize profusely for the detour and the HKD 500 bill I hand him (even Kings apologizes briefly for HKD 500s – and if you have a HKD 1,000 bill the cabbie has to make change for, good luck to you). “It’s really alright.” The 3 kindest words I’ve heard recently. I get out without being able to help a surreptitious glance at his seats (I probably wasn’t really filthy enough to soil them but I couldn’t help but check).

Tick Tock Tick Tock...

Then I tear into the apartment, brush past the bewildered dog, strip off my filthy clothes. My lip curls with revulsion – not so much because of my clothes – what I wish is to be able to tear off the discomfort and indignity of this particular pregnancy as easily. No matter how often I bathe (and my skin is really gonna start drying out from it) there always seems to be sweat or discomfort to wash away. If I had lighter fluid I would dump everything I was wearing into the bathtub and have a bonfire.

I greet Rockstar smiling, and in fresh clothes.

Rockstar Inspecting "Treasure Chest" - I might move his clothes in here and put the baby's clothes in his Indigo chest instead (why is it the kids have arguably all the nicest furniture in our home when in general they don't care?? Because we do!), mainly because the chest of drawers with his stuff in it is not brand new with possibly lotsa dust or factory chemicals to irritate a new baby's skin...

I’m buying myself whatever the bloody hell I want for furniture. Sale or no. For me, drastic measure indeed. I got the exact piece of furniture I wanted, not even compromising for HKD 2,000 in savings to take one that was a little scratched and a different finish – I paid the HKD 19,100 in cash for HKD 2,000 off (the budget piece I originally was eyeing was almost HKD 17,000 which I initially already considered pricey; the non-budget was HKD 21,000).

Yes, praying and something a little more wholesome than dropping cash has also helped before. In this case I had another prayer – thank you Lord, for having blessed me in the past with the job that allows me, very occasionally, to do this.

Posted in Rockstar Shopping, Rockstar Thoughts | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Our Un-Mother’s Day

Posted on May 14, 2012 by admin

Rockstar had a very irritating night cough last week, and after it cleared what I’ve now got feels strong enough to stun a water buffalo. (Well, pushing 73kgs now, I’m close 😀 No, massive weight gain usually doesn’t bother me, nor do I make a point of losing the weight fast after the pregnancy because I figured slowly (and permanently) is healthier…)

Rockstar swears he “never” had the symptoms I’m having (and Kings is starting to have as well), which makes us think (and hope) The Rockstar has the resistance of a rhino. Must be the being regularly exposed (gradually – I still remind him almost every day at drop off to touch his face with his hands as little as possible to minimize the chances of getting sick) to the smorgasbord of bugs that tend to be in every little kiddie school.

Happy Mother's Day To Me (Ok this is a bit of a cheat, since only the cardboard essentially needed to be "packed"... but still!!)

So anyway, we spent Saturday night packing – that is to say, Kings did most of it (I did Rockstar’s toys earlier, which is like way less), banishing me and Rockstar into one dust-free bedroom for a few hours (with nervous me coming out to check every once in awhile that he’s not throwing away any of my precious old stuff – at one point I rescue a bunch of old fictions), putting everything in boxes the night before, either for donation or storage…

Our destination Sunday: See? Now this couple is happy! They have stored all their junk and have room for a baby! Everything's a-ok!

Then we drive over to Wong Chuk Hang to fill in the paperwork so the movers will come pick it all up and put it away come Monday…

We pass by lotsa construction and stuff before finding the place…

And park next to this old car… Rockstar’s thrilled by another “adventure” out of the ordinary…

Rockstar In Da Warehouse

But surprisingly when we enter the secure storage area, the place is spotless and odorless. The attendant also tells us they keep the air dry so there’s less chance of my handbags and paintings growing mold here than at home even (Kings immediately wants me to keep more stuff here haha)

We walk around selecting a storage size/area…

More horsing around, Kings is of course suggesting Rockstar live here, and I can’t read the Chinese sign but I’m guessing the English is supposed to say something else other than what it says…

Rockstar tries our chosen unit on for size...

Before the attendant takes him into the pantry and offers him a juice…

Beyond the little pantry and fridge is a super-clean old toilet, with lotsa potted plants outside

Kings fills the paperwork (min rental period is for one year), Rockstar swivels round and round clutching his juice (freebies always taste better!)

And then we’re done! We can start moving furniture about in preparation for the new stuff to come in, and –

Oh ok, stuff. Kings got me this bag for Mother’s Day from duty free in NY.

Limited edition Coach Maggie (or is that Madison – don’t know this bag seems to have two names; I am not a Coach expert) bag

Mainly because of the bright color in patent leather, and the compartmentalized insides which look like this:

Like so…

Rockstar is visibly disappointed: “Why didn’t he get you a car?” 

Except on a daily basis I haven’t been carrying shoulder bags, trying to rest up my back for when the baby comes and I won’t be able to keep from carrying her about….

I gleefully get on the Coach website looking for stuff to exchange it for. (Rockstar chips in, “Exchange it for a car.”) I would have an even more more pleasant surprise when I take the USD 385 (thereabouts) duty-free receipt to the large Coach store opposite Landmark and they give me a store credit of HKD 4,750. “Arbitrage” siah… I exchange it for this from the Men’s Department:

Coach Bleeker leather portfolio… (Rockstar making my decaf coffee as usual in background…)
Fits my laptop perfectly and has a back zip to boot… (Rockstar’s face is like that because he is waiting impatiently for me to take a swig of coffee so he has room to keep pouring more milk in)

Kings likes. And seriously considers my offer to get him the same in black for Father’s Day. (Yeah I know I got him something already but I tend to have little regard for actual dates – I mean, what if there are more than one great thing I want to get him? What if I see a great thing to get him umpteen months before some special day, or else nearing that day there is just nothing interesting at all? I’d rather get a great gift (or two, if I happen to find two) than just something for what is anyway a commercialize day…) But no, he decides that he prefers to carry his laptop in a briefcase.

Then I wanted to get myself this angel wing necklace from Maxandchloe.com, kinda like a good luck charm for the delivery and what I think is just a really tough time right after… (No, I don’t do this every Mother’s Day, only when I need extra cheering up) USD 645 but I’m waiting for one of those online sales codes because I can hold out another month:

Angel Wing Necklace by Majolie

So instead this is what I then wanted to get “myself”:

Chest of drawers from Tequila Kola Outlet

I still love jewelry, but what I really want right now is some nice furniture. Next best thing, since we can’t afford to buy a home we like, with HK’s current property prices. Do hormones make you want to nest? Who knows. But seriously – as a very general statement you can get something in NY that looks quite like its equivalent in HK, close to Central Park and all, for like, half the price. Makes me seriously frustrated and want to relocate, except what’d we do in NYC?

Indigo Kids loft bed

I recently had a weird moment when looking for a loft bed for Rockstar – Indigo Kids had something on sale in beautiful white lacquer for around HKD 9,750 thereabouts, for a loft bed + desk + shelving + cupboard + cork board, or else I could get a basic 2-bed model at Ikea (not on sale) for HKD 2,590 tops. I was the one who pointed that out to Kings, yet I felt so depressed going for the basic model at Ikea… When I finally told Kings, he was Just Get The Indigo One If It Makes That Much Difference To You. It helped none of the Ikea ones were the right height for the room we wanted to put it in (because of where the storage cabinets go), but I was grateful anyway – Kings had made the offer before we discovered that about the measurements.

Fast forward to now when Kings said I could go get another chest of drawers to put the baby’s stuff, I jumped. Except that trunk is expensive – even on sale. I just couldn’t have him do an Indigo-vs-Ikea loft bed again, so if I really find something-other-than-basic in the right size (the one in pic turned out too big), I’m getting it myself, as my Mother’s Day Gift to myself. Here being an example of when I say I’m not comfy with the hub paying for my “shopping.” Kings’ tastes run severely functional, he is not a “decor” person, but I am. Our first apartment together I went to bed each night with all the floor plans next to me. We meet somewhere in between, but not before I snuck in an exquisite work desk for him one special occasion (I never use a desk at home) – and a little black crystal chandelier we still have in our bedroom…….. 😛

Ps: My mum got a book about raising grandchildren nowadays by Dr Miriam Stoppard (don’t scream, for her it’s not a creepy presumptuous gift – she usually makes little notes reading these things, and when I was pregnant with Rockstar she went looking for “refresher courses in baby care,” afraid she might be rusty), and the Ceramide Time Capsules she wanted, not to mention goodie bag of skincare samples I’m always saving. I could buy the stuff, but nooooo she doesn’t derive the same pleasure as from the freebies <roll eyes>

Posted in aileensml, Rockstar Shopping | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Oh, Baby Ultrasound!

Posted on May 12, 2012 by admin

We went for an ultrasound recently, so the Gynea could check if we had 10 fingers and 10 toes, among other things, in there. Rockstar of course brought along his iPod (someday we’re gonna have to edit the thing – Kings recently brought him for drinks with clients and he abruptly offered, “Who wants to hear my Daddy snore?” I hadn’t caught on when, heading home from a dinner with another family recently, he had declared, “(Friend’s son) says his daddy definitely snores loudly than our daddy.” I thought they were making up their own noises….)

Our Gynea doesn’t believe in “unnecessary” ultrasounds, saying she doesn’t want to read in a medical journal in another 10 or 20 years that “new research shows…..” potential bad effects of ultrasound-ing. As a result, we – Rockstar in particular – have been waiting for ages for this glimpse.

When we arrive, there is for the first time in all my visits another child there, a little Rockstar-sized Cantonese-speaking girl hugging a teddy, who is also about to witness a sibling’s ultrasound (must be useful in helping elder siblings adjust to the new addition). And so Rockstar watches avidly as my Gynea checks the presence and completeness of most internal organs as best she can (apparently you can only be about 80% sure of say, the completeness of the heart for instance – I ask specifically re both rockstars because I remember someone else’s baby born missing a heart chamber in what would become a very sad and painful ordeal for the family in the ensuing months after the baby was born), and supplies another nugget of information we lap up, in all our eagerness to know as much about the little person whom we will soon get to meet: The baby has a slightly small head, is a bit small, but with long limbs.

Pretty much the physical opposite of Rockstar, who was big, practically all head, and with a huge nose to boot – in fact even in the sketchy 2D ultrasound you could make out King’s features. Rockstar looked nothing like me for at least half a year of his life, the only way you could tell he was mine after he was out, just from looking, was from the matching hospital tags we had on. As frivolous, self-indulgent thoughts go, I remember being happy he was a boy, because Kings would make a pretty ugly girl 😀

Well anyway I still got an earful for losing a pound in the last couple weeks. I eat, and I’m still doing 2-4 eggs 4-5 days a week, not to mention about 2-3 bananas a day, on top of additional carbs in my regular meals, but my Gynea is inexorable. “You were supposed to be gaining. If you’re not, then it’s coming out of your reserves. That means you’re running around too much. <glancing at Rockstar> We always take care of the one we can see.”

(At which point Rockstar solemnly vows to bother his dad more… But it’s hard, Kings has been traveling so much, and I’ll be darned if I outsource more than the absolute bare minimum of Rockstar’s care to the helper – which means all she does is literally 20 mins of picking him up after school before handing him back to me, wherever I am at the time…) Speaking of which, I’m equally determined not to park him in front of the tv either, resulting in unlimited Lego and puzzles, and all manner of books – I’ll read anything he wants, including encyclopedia entries about coral reefs and more recently the solar system. We had a brief relationship with Tintin comics, but I grumbled a lot at my mum for sending them – because of the number of times I have to keep explaining to Rockstar that if you drink that much juice, you really can go that crazy as Captain Haddock, because of all the sugar. So then we got encyclopedias about sea life, spiders…..)

“Here’s something to really make you pay attention – if you don’t start gaining weight again, after having this second one, you’re going to age a lot.” I notice Kings react. Hee hee. Really? “Yes of course, you’re taxing your body too much…..”

So I really do have to scale it down a bit. That’s when we finally decide to abolish my 3km walks with JD every Saturday. I read to Rockstar in bed, resulting however in him bringing his dinner in to join me there (and occasionally spilling it in my bed as well). But I’m starting to wonder if I’m burning calories from mental energy, rather than physical exertion, Rockstar can be very tiring to talk to, if you really go about answering all his questions (another reason I will never let a helper do more than the bare minimum – I remember a previous helper answering his question about a dead sparrow we came across with a very graphic foot stomping motion to illustrate how someone had killed it because she thought that was just hilarious…) Add to that I’ve taken a mild interest in playing the piano again (the baby really kicks when I learn new pieces!) – and then I get wayyy more hungry……

Ps: That was two weeks ago; at the subsequent follow up I’ve gained back the weight and then some… Though my friends are saying maybe I should cut back on the bananas 😛

Posted in Rockstar Shots | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Secret Mummy Behavior #2 – The Secret Dreamworld Of A Playdating Mummy

Posted on May 10, 2012 by admin

One of my latest favorite books is The Sense Of An Ending, by Julian Barnes, winner of the 2011 Man Booker Prize (and btw I mostly didn’t like the 2010 winner, Room by Emma Donoghue) because it’s one of those stories that revolves around some fairly mundane conversation exchanges in dating life and family relations – the reader is therefore kept interested in the he-said, she-said by virtue of the author’s skill. More specifically, it was an illustration of how subjective exchanges can be, how differently remembered, and how we often choose to interpret things a certain way.

That’s on my mind as I write this tongue-in-cheek parody I call The Anti-Mother’s Day Post, which however should still have a faint ring of truth to it, however embellished – so don’t choose to read on and then think Aiya This Aileen Ah, What Kind Of Fruitcake Crap Is All This Imagined Secret Language Among Mummies. I Am Surrounded By Wonderful, Selfless, Non-Judgmental Human Beings.

Yeah, and maybe you also reside on the planet Pluto.

Alien-faced Rockstar (No really, he calls that his "Alien Face"... I just call it terrible...)

As a mum if you have never felt insecure, you are great. Possibly also fictitious. But I would love to be like you anyway. I’m not. And it makes for better yarning on a blog.

So the guys thought they had it tough when they tried to get a girl’s number. Mums have it tougher. If a girl flakes on a guy, she’s saying I Don’t Like Your Face/ Shirt/ Wallet (shallow and sad, but you’ll live). When one mummy does it to another, she’s saying I Don’t Like….. Your Parenting <shudder> or……. Your Child <gasp!>

It implies judgement, swift and harsh, from one mother (who should know, she’s a mother) to another. There is no greater insult, hell hath no fury like that of a mother scorned on the playground.

Think I’m hormonal? I didn’t write That Old Marie Claire US Article about the Chinese mother married and living in Japan who went nuts from being shunned by other Japanese mums because she could not pick up on the elaborate, unspoken mummy etiquette that existed on playgrounds. In the article, she described how when she was “shunned” her child was then not allowed a turn on the swings. And I was nowhere near a pregnancy test when I read it with interest anyway. I don’t go looking for the book(s) by other (former working) mums cited in the article about sandpit/ playground politics being worse than the office because I don’t want to get more paranoid then I already am, as a natural personality trait.

A mummy friend I miss very much (who’s gone back to D.C. <mourn> would quip “Is it rude to bring a good book while the babies socialize on playdates?” I mean, playdates are good for your child…….)

Sure, sometimes you just flake because you’re lazy. You’re entitled, you are already running after your proverbial little Duracell Bunny (or two or three or… who hops about looking pink and cute but has the annoying habit of going on….. and on…… and on……… But then you bump into Mummy You Flaked On and sometimes it’s……. weird. Well and here are a few more ways to make it even weirder. (As told to me by umpteen various random mums over many months…)

1) Ask for other mummy’s number but not offer your own. Keep assuring other mummy “I’ll call you.” This is just RUDE. So you think you look so obviously Non-Psycho Mummy isit, while having the chutzpah to still suspect other mummy of being too psycho for you to give your number out to.

2) Scold your helper for letting your child play with someone else’s child. Where in the wide universe did you get the idea helpers don’t talk? Of course your helper will maintain the utmost professional discretion. Not even a theatrical stricken look when Other Mum unwittingly brings her child over on the playground. At which point, Helper avoids eye contact and carries Child Under Her Care Away. Sympathetic looks from Helper’s Friends illustrate how much they know.

3) Pretend you thought the text invitation for a playdate that you ignored was not meant for you. Even though it had your name on it in the text. Come to think of it, nothing says I Don’t Like You/ Your Child Inexplicably more than pretending you didn’t know the message was for you, when Other Mum Oblivious To Your Flakey asks, pulling out your cellphone and staring at the message – which has your name on it oh… right…. there! – and still saying you thought the message was meant for someone else.

4) Trash the school the other mummy is sending her child to. Even if you are somehow really trying to “help,” (or maybe seeking affirmation you made the right school choice) I’m not sure this can ever make her feel your choice of school was the right one.

There’s an investment product analogy – I used to remark to my former RMs that it’s really hard to trash the previous investment a client has made, albeit from competing private bank, albeit you think it’s really stupid – without making the client also dislike you. Because you are telling the client they were stupid enough to buy it. Even if they agree, I don’t think they’re gonna like you.) Case in point – when you tell a mum your school choice and she goes, “Well, if you think that’s good enough for your child…..”

If a child has Obnoxious Rub-It-In-Your-Face for a mum, I wonder how some other mums might feel, if the child makes a mistake at something… Sad thing about human nature…

Oh, here’s another. After you tell someone where your child is going to school and they respond, “Well I’ve noticed things about my child and I would like to be sure he gets the attention he deserves.”

Let’s not even bother with words. Let’s go with looks. I know someone who has sworn never, ever to be on the same playdate as another mum – after being told by a third mum about the facial expression pulled at the mention of playdating with her child.

Not judging, just thinking: Ay, People Lug That Load Around For Months And Then Someone Sticks Salad Tongs Up Their Nether Regions Or Cuts Open Their Belly So They Can Have This Little Person. HOW Dumb Are You, To Not Know To Tread More Carefully? Or Do You Not Give A Damn Because It Is So Blatantly Obvious That Only Your Child Matters Here?

5) Guess another child’s age as significantly younger than his/her real age. Needless to say, I get this one all the time. Which is why I’m secretly delighted when my “two year old” strikes up a conversation about Mars and Neptune or the extinction of dinosaurs.

“Oh, you mean your child couldn’t do that when they were two?” 😀

6) Gossip about the misbehavior/ underdevelopment of another child – within earshot of the child’s helper or helpers who speak to the child’s helper. I know mums who stopped talking to each other because their helpers told each other everything that the other mum was really saying about their child. (Come to think of it, how come no one questioned the messenger in (5) and (6)?)

Rockstar calls this pic "OUCH!" - Geddit? 😀

But Brutus Is An Honorable Man. Mums don’t really have such ugly cat fights, do they? After all, we’re mums.

Posted in Rockstar Thoughts | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

One Fine Day In Ikea…

Posted on May 9, 2012 by admin

We’d been going down to Ikea in Causeway Bay a lot… Prep to put together Rockstar’s “Lego Headquarters” i.e. loft bed/play area and whole lotta built-in shelving for his un-baby friendly toys…

Rockstar Having Tactile Orgy (a.k.a. fur fix)

Rockstar: <delightedly stroking fur rug> Like a sheep!

Me: In fact, it used to be.

Rockstar: Then what happened?

Me: Uh, it lived a full and happy life and when it finally died of old age someone decided not to waste the skins.

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Have you tried this game? In CANTONESE?

Among the kiddie entertainment stations littered around the floor is a touch-screen pairing game – but what really tickles me about this thing is it speaks totally in Cantonese! You get the pairs right and it says “Jou Tuck Hou” (“Good Job” I guess)… It’s like when I catch all the big cartoons like Toy Story etc completely dubbed in Cantonese on tv; somehow watching Woody or Buzz going at it earnestly in fluent Canton never fails to amuse me…..

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Like No Other Ikea Bistro?

Is it weird (or vaguely sad) that Rockstar enjoys Ikea almost as much as say, Wisekids Playroom or Playtown? Causeway Bay Ikea has a horribly crowded pokey little thing where you stand around spearing Swedish meatballs (which, friends agree, taste different from those in other Ikeas in say, parts of Europe or Singapore) or – his favorite thing – popcorn while standing around crowd watching.

It was just mildly interesting that despite a crowd of famously “insensitive” passersby (many friends and colleagues have complained about being roughly jostled while pregnant and navigating the CWB crowds, as have I), when Rockstar spills his popcorn (apologetically), I had barely begun to struggle to pick it up (grouchily) when a very loud clucking auntie appears out of nowhere through the crowd, chases me away at full volume in Cantonese and sweeps the mess up, before disappearing once again without so much as a glance at us. All the while an unsurprised Rockstar, still crunching popcorn without so much as a raised eyebrow. When did my son become such a jaded Hongkie-dweller?

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Posted in Talking To Rockstar | 2 Comments