Daniel is upset.  He was lying on the couch crying because Brian snatched his favourite toy away.  I happened to be at the snatch scene. 

“Please say sorry and kiss Daniel,” I told the little boy.

He did not hesitate.  He stood his full two feet by his brother and tried to give Daniel a big sloppy kiss and hug. 

“No!,”  screamed Daniel.  He worked his lungs more and cried louder.

Brian gave no heed.  He was laughing and tried to kiss his brother even some more.  Daniel and Brian were playing the dodging game. The crying boy was  thrashing side to side to avoid kisses.  The laughing one was trying to press his face against Daniel’s without much success.  One was upset of being kissed, and the other was gleeful and liked kissing. 

I stood observing these two children in front of me.

 “How different they are,” I said to myself.  Both these tiny creatures originated from the same parents but both were as different as day from night. 

All three of our boys are different.  Sometimes the total opposite of each other.  One adores bread, the other hates it.  One can’t live without his bananas, the other says no, thank you.  One gulps down his milk in a flash, the other drinks only chocolate.   There are new opposites everyday.      

I am unique, I was told.  I didn’t fully grasp the full meaning of this old truth until I had children of my own.  I expected my babies to be similar.  After all,  I had to undergo the same nine month process to give them life. I was disappointed again and again.  The three have different needs and turn on switches.  Daniel is motivated by big drains, James by his singing shower fountain and Brian by delicious mouth watering food.

These three musketeers do have one thing in common.  Their love for chocolate.  We are different and yet the same, I was told.  When I observe my children,  this other old truth makes much sense to me now.  Humans like human touch.  These boys compete for our love and attention albeit in different ways. 

My children changed my life.  They change the way I see myself daily.   I truly am unique.

Cheers!  And a good week ahead!

Someone I know made an interesting comment last week.  She is a mother of two young children, and has no help at home except for those two arms attached to her body.  She mentioned that she can’t wait for her children to grow bigger so that the family can have a nice dinner outside.  To complete this perfect scenario are her two children like angels sitting quietly at the table.

Being a mum with young children myself, I, like her, have the desire for some express growth in my children.  She spoke my thoughts out loud.  After much scribbling and some thoughts, here are ten luxuries in life I simply can’t afford at this moment.  
1. The ability to hold a decent and uninterrupted conversation at home with my spouse is nothing short of a miracle. Every two minutes into our exchange, we are interjected with countless questions and passing remarks from the boys.  “Look papa!  Mr Bean has a goldfish in his mouth!” exclaimed James.   “ And he just swallowed it!” Daniel added with much glee.  What was I telling my spouse a while ago?  And where was Brian?  He was standing and kissing our TV set.  “Brian, stand back please!” I barked.  I shift my attention back to my spouse but he is already deeply  immersed in the silliness of Mr Bean.  It is obvious that my topic of the day  is not as interesting as old Bean.  

2. Privacy.  My public life is my private life and vice versa.  This seven letter word is nonexistent in my vocabulary.  The last time I locked the door whilst in the bathroom hoping to turn the boys away, James broke off the bottom half of it with strong kicks.  While trying to break down the door, he also made known to the whole neighbourhood that his mummy was busy attending to nature’s call.   Eventually I relented and let him in, but not without the daily reminder of a broken door.  

3. A good night’s rest.  Just last night, I discovered an inanimated object on my side of the bed.  I hardly recognized my own toddler because he wasn’t portraying the brat he usually is for twelve long hours in a day.  He does more muscle movements in a day than I do in a year.  His main activities are climbing up and down the house grills,  jumping up and down our queen sized mattress, and  squeezing himself  in and out of tiny holes.    Here on my bed is a sleeping doll at rest.   He seems to enjoy my side of the bed better than his cot.  On good days, he graciously give me just enough space to lay my tired physical being.   On bad days, I get to doze with half of my side hanging off the bed.  Some days, I wake up with his foot on my face.   I might have seniority but it is obvious that he is the boss.      

4. Hearing myself speak aloud.  I would have suspected a hearing problem, and consulted a doctor if not for the perfect hearing of my boys’ screaming and shouting.  The law of physics doesn’t apply here.  Their tiny bodies are not nearly half of my size, but their voices boom ten times louder than mine.   I am considering using a microphone.

5. Having my ice cream and eating it.  These children are like vultures.  All these ruffians want my ice cream for themselves, but none want my juicy looking broccoli.  Their tiny fingers are as fast as lighting,  prying open my tight fist for the tempting cold dessert.  “It’s unfair. There are three against me,” I sulked.  This is a lawless house!  My spouse is not bothered, as long as his kids are happy and none disturb him. I have lost some ice cream battles but grown smarter.  Now I have my Cornetto cold treat in the night when all the kids have gone to bed.  No one shares my cone, not even you honey.     

6. Freely entering and leaving my humble abode. Getting out of my house to go somewhere can cause chaos.  The condition for a pleasant exit is to bring any child who wants to come along.  Failure to do so will bring my house down like a pack of cards due to the loud screams and banging on grills.  Please refer to point 7 for a follow up scenario.

7. Mundane and predictable grocery shopping. With my children tagging along, grocery shopping has turned into a battle of wills.  Instead of spending time at the fresh greens section, my children, by some unknown magnetic force, drag me to the sweets section.   “I want mentos sweets,” demands Daniel.  I pretend not to hear.  He wails loudly at my pretence deafness.   In an instant, he not only gets my attention,but also the attention of the other shoppers.  I finally concede to his wish lest the rest of the shoppers think that I am a child abuser.  I come home with a bag full of sweets and cookies instead of my healthy foods.  Now, how did that happen?

8. Sitting through a Sunday afternoon matinee. I have long given up trying to watch a movie without any interruptions from the children.  The younger ones have not cultivated an interest towards adult movies, while Daniel is beginning to ask questions like why is there so much blood. As much as I dislike Mr Bean which is bad influence for my kids, I reckon it’s a safer bet than CSI’s  gory murder scene.  If I insist on watching a non violent adult movie like Forest Gump, the children will use the irritation method to watch what they want.  They will divert your attention every five seconds with this phrase, “Mummy, can I watch Playhouse Disney now!” with no inkling of what is broadcasting on the MIckey channel.  After five minutes of no response from their mother, they increase their irritation level to every 3 seconds.  Soon enough I am managing my kids instead of watching Tom Hanks in action.  Heck, let’s switch to see Mickey in action  for some peace and quiet.    

9. An orderly house is a tall order.  I keep magic pens, permanent markers and crayons out of reach from the children.  Using these stationeries, the walls of my house have become works of art for the little ones. I had at least six good working pens in my drawer last week, this week there is none.  While cleaning up the floor, I found a broken fin, two broken wheels and traces of plasticine.  “Surely Brian’s plasticine snake did not end up in his stomach, did it?” I asked myself.  Daniel’s plastic orange carrot is mixed up with his plastic bag of railway tracks and one of the jigsaw pieces is missing.  As much as I try to be organized and sort out their toys properly, the children are happy mixing them up again.  It is late in the night and the three musketeers are finally asleep. This is my much awaited opportunity to watch a decent tv programme, but where is the TV controller now?
10.  And of course, having a decent meal together as a family.  If meals are meant to bring families together, ours must be an exception to the rule.  I look at my children and think, these are good kids.   Until I bring them to the dining table.  They are like unstoppable movable parts. The first five minutes is a scene of pure deception.  The boys are angelic and sit quietly at the table to eat.     The real action begins from the sixth minute and seems to go on forever.  They simply have raw energy, and is vigorously moving about, especially during mealtimes. “Surely I have failed as a disciplinarian during mealtimes,” I muttered to myself miserably.  “I don’t like egg,” says Daniel.   “Then don’t eat the egg,” I reply.  “I don’t like tomatoes either,” he continues.  This haggling over his food consumption tires me at a certain point.  “Then don’t eat.  There is nothing else to eat on your plate!” I screamed.  So much for positive parenting.       

There is so much more I can write about, but I wouldn’t want you to spend all day reading my post.  And I know, no one likes a complainer.    

When will you grow up?  It is the timeless question every fatigue mother asks at the end of the day.   Last night I watch Brian asleep in his cot.  His arms outstretch, his tiny body is relaxed. His soft tummy is rising up and down in cadence with his deep breathing.   How quickly he has grown, I thought to myself.  His first year had whizzed past quickly and his second birthday is approaching soon. Just yesterday he was flailing his arms helplessly and today, he climbed onto our sofa with minimum effort and ease.

Soon enough, my walls will be cleaned of crayon markings, and my floor spick and span devoid of my toddler’s spills.  Until then,  let me celebrate my children  each day with all their sticky fingers and endless chatterings. Sometimes it’s hard.   When the boys give me a long and tedious day, I recall the precious moments they have given me.  I am, after all, not perfect myself with my quick temper and loud screaming.

And to you , I wish you a good week, whatever’s left of it! 

Cheers!

It is 8.30am.  The sun is unusually bright and early.  I am alone, driving along my usual route.  My thoughts are someplace else.  My head is cloaked in misery, overburdened  with endless problems I am currently experiencing.

As I drive pass a row of strong tall trees, rays cast light on my path as shafts of sunlight stream through their shady leaves.  It is a spectacular masterpiece of nature.   I am jolted to the present, my whole being awaken from slumber like a sunflower following the morning light.  For a moment while basking in the dancing sunshine, my worries melt away like the fallen snow in spring.  It is a wonderful feeling to be alive! 

Here’s wishing you a very good morning!  And a good day to you. 

Cheers!

Shell, the petrol station, has teamed up with Ferrari to offer attractive looking toy cars.  They come in seven designs, available in Ferrari’s signature colours, red and white.  Each has a unique dynamic engine sound, and of course a Ferrari endorsement.  You might have seen the ongoing Shell advertisement, starring Michael Schumacker. 

My spouse frequents Shell for petrol.  Last Sunday, we were looking for a petrol station when he seriously joke about going station hopping until he is able to purchase the model Ferrari of his choice.  Then he continued ranting about how these little red cars were selling like hot cakes and were quickly out of stock at most of the stations that he went to. 

From there our conversation proceeded to a discussion.  My spouse and I put our heads together to strategise ways to increase his car’s mileage.  This will enable us to feed his car with more petrol, thus quicken our collection of these red hot cars.  

We have three more models to collect to complete our star collection.   After this, we plan to put our modestly paid miniature cars up for bidding and be on our way to become aspiring millionaires. 

For a live red hot experience, you can catch the F1 Malaysian Grand Prix at the Sepang Circuit, Kuala Lumpur 21 to 23 March 2008.

Cheers and Happy Easter to you!

This is James’s third month schooling.  Everyday we have the same conversation.

“Tomorrow got school?” he’d ask me.

“Yes,” I’d reply. 

“Tomorrow is Tuesday?” he’d enquire further.

Today is no different.  The time is 8.00am and I am in a rush to get James ready for school.

“Today got school?” he asked while brushing his teeth.

“Yes,” I replied. “ It is Good Friday today,” I added.

“When is Bad Friday?” he wanted to know. 

I guess Bad Friday is when you have a bad day and it’s a Friday! 

Cheers to you !  And have a good Friday today! 

They are splashed all over the newspapers.  The flashy advertisements of our modern age plastic cards.  I mean, the Visa and Mastercard.  These you can’t  live with or without.  I call them plastics. I have a few of these plastics myself.

In the recent years, I have been offered more plastics with credit than I can ever afford to pay back.  Plastics no longer come in the mail for me since I am not an active income earner now.  My spouse has a different story to tell.  He would surprise me with a platinum card here or a titanium card there. Platinum.  Titanium.  A new genre of plastics that paint a picture of exclusivity and prestige for the cardholder.  Unfortunately for me,  I don’t qualify for either one.

Whenever my spouse shows me a new plastic, I’d turn into a nervous wreck.  The reason being I’ve realized too late I had paid too much interest for my ad hoc purchases using these plastics.  I was in a frenzied mood when he showed me his most  recent addition.

 “But you promised me no more cards!,” I said.

 “Yes, but with this one you can redeem points for flight miles,” he reasoned.

I huffed, but it was useless.  He had added one more enticing card to his already large collection of cards.

These cards offer irresistible bargains.  With plastic, I can create magic in my life.  By charging to my plastic, I can buy the vacation that I’ve always dreamt of as a child at a travel fair.  And if I decide to pay for my dream vacation at this fair with  plastic, I am able to also get a designer bag for free.  And should I decide to spend more for my vacation, I get a bigger designer bag for free!  Perhaps to provide for more packing space for a longer vacation?  Is this a good deal or what, I thought to myself.

Plastics are gateways to collecting entry contest forms.  I don’t guarantee that you will win these contests, but surely there are lots of entry forms to be collected.  There is one condition though.  I have to spend to collect.  This is a great excuse to be greedy and buy two leather handbags instead of one.  And furthermore, I stand a better chance of winning tickets to see European football in Vienna or win a holiday to Disneyland with several entry forms instead of just one.  I don’t really care about watching football but what does it matter? The offer is too good to decline.    

There are also plastics that provide weekly luxurious prizes to be won.  What a wondrous way to spend and be given a chance to win a designer watch.  The condition is always the same. Spend as much as I can or like to increase my chances of winning.  To qualify, I would have to eat steak at my favourite  restaurant ten times a week down with a bottle of red wine.  And of course, charge it to my plastic.

If I don’t like the idea of having to compete to win a designer watch, I can be prudent and obtain a complimentary barbecue grill for keeps.  I need only to spend Ringgit Fifty Thousand to qualify.   All my life, I’ve desired a Yamaha Stereo System.  For the first time ever, I allowed myself to dream freely. I see myself relaxing on the sofa and the room is filled with crystal clear music from my Stereo System. The magic of plastic is at work. My Stereo is within reach.  And the free grill would really enhance our barbecues gatherings, I rationalized. All these with only a swipe of plastic.  The possibilities of plastic purchases are endless.  Until I did a mental calculation and concluded that it would take me at least sixty installments to fully pay off the stereo.  Another vision came to me.  I am an old lady and still be sending out cheques to pay for the stereo.  Maybe I don’t really want the grill so badly after all.  

In the beginning, I’d admire my newly bought purchases with pride and pleasure until the mail arrives.  The plastic has done its magic and now the true story begins.  The credit card statement tells a story of frivolous spending.  I can only stare in disbelief at the large amounts of my nonsensical purchases.  I always thought of myself as a person capable of reasoning, until the plastic crept into my life.   All of a sudden, my prized possession lost its lustre.

With high interest to pay, and compounding interest working against me, I am experiencing an uphill battle with these plastic cards daily.   Oh, why didn’t the glossy ads tell me all these before I used my plastic?  That’s when I learnt to read the fine print.  

Don’t fret over high interest incurred, I told myself. There are always balance transfer programs available.  The only hassle is that I will need to apply for the plastic that provides the program.  Plastic begets plastic.  It is a vicious circle. 

     
I bought a new sleek phone with my plastic.  It would take me twenty four months to pay it off.  I also bought a new digital camera which took me the same amount of installments to clear the debt.  The burden of these monthly payments long outlasted the pride of showing off my new toys. 

Plastic created unnecessary financial stress for us.  This led to a pact my spouse and I made.  We agreed that we would use cash only.  Cash only is a simple statement which demands a total change of lifestyle from us.  Just last night we had an argument regarding charges to his plastic.   

I am thinking of purchasing a sparkling diamond solitaire on sale at an ongoing Diamond fair.  After all, selected plastics are providing zero percent installment plans.  Please don’t my spouse.  Old habits die hard.

And how is your relationship with your plastics?   Hopefully you have a better story to tell compared to mine. 

Cheers !  Until we meet again, have a good day !

Last Saturday morning, there were three kids and three adults jammed in our car going places.  We don’t have such a small car, but that morning, it seemed like we were flying economy class with no leg space to spare.  It wasn’t the lack of leg space that bothered me though, actually it was the noisy air space. 

All of us were talking at the same time.  The radio was blasting The Cars theme song, “Life is a highway, I wanna ride it all night long….” .  Daniel was screaming his lungs out demanding, “ I want my hash brown now!”.  James was singing along, “Lifeeeee  issss a highhhh way” ,and Brian was looking out of the car window and exclaiming, “ Lorry, lorry.  Big lorry.”  I tried communicating with the other adult who was seated directly behind me, but lo!  I couldn’t even hear myself.  I tried to speak louder but the noise these kids created were bouncing all over the car drowning my voice.  If I spoke any louder, you would think there was a lunatic on the road that day.  In the end, I gave up talking and stayed silent.       

You know, I realized that sometimes the noise does not matter at all.  Many times I experienced not being heard too, even in a more sane, quiet setting. Just yesterday I said to my spouse, “ Don’t feed the baby with potato chips anymore.  It’s lunch time.”  Two seconds later, the toddler comes running with, you guessed it!, a potato chip in his tiny fingers.  Or the time the television would come on immediately even after telling my spouse the kids have exceeded their curfew viewing hours.

Every time this happens, I smugly launch into my “You never listen to what I say” lecture.  Until one day when I went to reload my toll card at a Shell petrol station. Later that day, I complained that they charged me an additional fifty cents for commission.  My spouse said, “ But I told you already about the charge.  You never listen to what I say.”   And I thought I was perfect.

After that incident, my awareness of selective listening increased.  Everytime my spouse speaks, I am aware that my mind is full of other agendas.  Do I listen only to what I want to hear?    Every day now, I try to practice the art of listening without prejudice.  And children need to be heard too. Sometimes it comes in a form of a whine, or a scream.  Coupled with some patience, I realized that I am able to listen to my boys more effectively.  

Try listening to an adult today.  Try listening to a child today.

Cheers!  And a good week ahead!

Ps  Honey, Happy St. Patrick’s Day!  If you are a Patrick, the same to you!  And go get yourself a free mug of beer.  Enjoy your day!

Brian was all by himself for the past three days.  His two brothers have gone off for a short holiday with their papa.  If this little fellow has always been the third prince of this household, now he is the king.  Not that he realizes that he is number three in line.  Being competitive, he fights for his food and toys with his bare hands and wins even though he is a fraction of his brothers’ size.  If that does not win him his coveted prize, he uses his loudest crying voice to gather the adults’ sympathy.   

For three days, he has all of everything all to himself.  He gets all the attention that he wants.  He gets to watch the tv  programmes of his choice uninterrupted and he gets to eat his favourite foods without having to share them with his other siblings. 

His favourite cartoon is the animated Mr Bean on Disney Channel.  But it’s no fun laughing while watching it alone without Daniel and James.  That’s because the adults don’t care much about Mr Bean.  Besides I don’t really get it.  Disney keeps showing the same six episodes a million times and the kids still watch and laugh.  

The norm is one kiwi fruit per child in this household.  Life’s tough when you have three siblings.  Today is special though.  Our little king indulged in two kiwi fruits.  Why did we give him two?  Because he wanted two, that’s why.  And kings always get what they want.  The second fruit left him with a scaly tongue.

I guess a little competition is good. 

Cheers!  And a good weekend to you!

My stay-in domestic helper will be leaving soon.  She is a foreigner who has been with us since year 2006.  Her contract ends end of this month, and she is looking forward to going home.  I can understand from her point of view.  For twenty four months she has been cleaning, sweeping and cooking all day, everyday.  She  has not been able to see or hug her girls during the duration of her stay here.   Every morning her day starts with three screaming boys.  Life is just one long traveling road with no rest stops in between for her.  

Today was special for her.  She got to live her dreams.  Ever since she started working for us, she has been talking about buying gold home.  “Here the gold is excellent.  The yellow does not tarnish easily,” she says.  And I patiently listen to her explain about the ‘good’ gold we sell in our country. Although she is not highly educated, she understands the meaning of delayed gratification.  After twenty four months of nothing but hard work and screaming boys, today she is able to buy gold home for herself and her family.  I accompanied her to the goldsmith.

“You are a good employer to bring your maid out to buy gold,” the salesperson commented.

“I just brought her.  She is the one buying,” I replied, taking no credit for the remark.

I let her choose as long as she wanted to.  I could feel the excitement in her, as she tried on a ring or a chain.  For once, the tables have turned.  I am now the one holding up the mirror for her, and waiting patiently for her to finish purchasing her items.  In my heart, I know she deserves to have this time slot for herself.

After the purchase, she got to live another dream of hers.  She was magically transformed from a dreary worker to a dazzling woman.  I left her at the salon for the hairdresser to pamper her.   When I went back to pick her up, she had her hair highlighted and a chic new hairstyle!  Not bad for someone who possessed nothing two years ago.  She had two dreams come true in one day.  I reckon it’s a darn good deal!  But why should I be envious?  She paid her price and now she’s getting her pot of gold at the end of her rainbow.

Later in the evening, she spoke to me with a sparkle in her eye about the journey she is going to take to go home.   I have never seen her in such high spirits, and her walk was faster and lighter.  Maybe I am mistaken.  Perhaps she has not lived her dream yet.  She will when she gets to hug her girls again, and know that she can afford to buy them pretty dresses or send them to better schools.

As much as I would like her to stay on, I am happy that she will be reunited with her family once again.  A mother needs her children, and children their mother. 

End of this month, she will welcome a new beginning.

Till we meet again at writingbeginnings, here’s wishing you a good day today!

Cheers!            

Recently, a friend good-naturedly asked me to post some photos on my blog.  It is a very good suggestion except that I don’t know how to …. yet.  I can hear my spouse echoing behind me, ‘Disgraceful!’.  I know honey, I am trying hard to catch up with our high tech world here. I’ve been visiting other blogs posting  their colourful  photos, with me punctuating exclamations of oohhs and aahhs.

All these beautiful photos reminded me of my own.  Especially this one particular shot.  It is unforgettable.  The shot was taken at the spacious garden of my parents’ house.  The subject is a boy two years of age, wearing a red shirt with short yellow sleeves.  The day was breezy and the sun rays created a warm golden light.  It was already the late afternoon.  The snapshot is natural with a willing subject.  The toddler seated in his tiny red sports car with both hands on the steering wheel, a smile plastered on his face.  It is not a forced kind of smile.  It is one that is warm and spontaneous. His  sparkling eyes and ruffled hair reflect the relaxed mood of the boy.   He is the epitome of pure happiness.  That day, the camera lens captured a timeless portrait of the simple pleasures of life. This was taken five years ago, and I have never attained a snapshot that captured the soul of a boy as perfect as this one since then.   Can you see this snapshot with your mind’s eye?  Maybe a little of his happiness will rub off you.  Here’s wishing you happy happiness day! 

I really must learn to upload photos but first, I need to find out what does RSS feed mean. 

Till we meet again on writingbeginnings, have a great day today.

Cheers!