To School!

Today, I brought Joseph to complete registration procedures at Centre "S". Yeah, Centre "P" was not in the running, nay, not even a close second. If you had to climb a small hill to bring your young child to his class daily, I doubt you would be enthused either. Never mind that the number of children enrolled there was very few (for obvious reason!), I never want to repeat another visit there, ever again, ~pant pant~!

Anyway, it's finally happening. Two days later, on 1 Mar 2006 Joseph will be going to his first school. There is to be three days' orientation, whereby I am allowed to remain in the centre with him. Thereafter the actual detachment starts... letting go.

Joseph, when you read mummy's blog years from now, I just want you to be clear about this thing. In my previous entry, you would have seen how mummy went traipsing all around the neighbourhood, hunting for a suitable place to put you in for half a day. This is, by no means any indication that I have tired of having you by my side. Far from it, in fact, mummy did that for a number of reasons.

Firstly, whenever mummy had to do chores or some other work, you would be neglected. I had to keep you in a safe place, i.e. your cot, to prevent possible dangers or accidental falls. You would be left on your own, either watching some kiddy video, or playing with your own toes/toys when you had enough of seeing rapid changing scenes being played from a square box screen.

Secondly, it's time to give you opportunities to mingle with other little children. Mummy noticed that being alone most of the time does nothing to equip you with the social skills necessary for coping with and adapting to conditions outside the safe refuge of home.

Thirdly, you'd be exposed to short lessons tailored for your age. Mummy could then follow these syllabus as a guideline for teaching at home, because mummy has limited experience and knowledge about educating toddlers and young children.

Joseph, I believe that you would be happier spending half a day occupied in school than being cooped up in your cot for an hour or more each morning, and encountering no one else except mummy. While you have fun with your new young friends, mummy could then have fun doing all the chores and tasks required, guilt-free. Mummy and daddy really love you, Joseph.

Lord Jesus, I pray for my son, that You enable him to settle into his new environment speedily. I pray that his teacher is patient and understanding, and will develop genuine love for the little ones she teaches. Lord I pray for Your protection, to keep Joseph safe from harm and illnesses. Thank You Jesus, I will put my trust in You, my Lord. You are the constant Shepherd, faithful by his side at all times. Thank You for loving Joseph, amen!

Out Of Action

I had been out of action for quite a few days, due to a bout of food poisoning, or stomach flu, or diarrhoea, or just plain indigestion, who cares about these terminologies, anyway? Not me, all of the above merely implied that I ingested something which didn't agree with the rest of my being, so my body succumbed the best way it knew how, by taking a mostly horizontal position. My one other bodily function turned very active of course, but I'm not about to gross out anyone who happens to be reading my post here, so I'll just leave it as that, leaking (ah-ha!) no further details.

Anyway, I'm feeling hale and hearty again, fit to continue my quest of checking out nearby centres for a suitable playgroup to place my son it. Why go through all these hassles? Just choose the BEST school, you can't go wrong that way. A premium school, which undoubtedly comes with a premium fee, is as good a bet as any. Er... excuse me, I happen to have to work something out within my "cute little" budget and it's not as "elastic" as our Government Budget reserves, so there! Ha ha, but I'm not bitter about it, ok... the Lord will soon (very soon) manifest increase in His blessings on our bread and our kneading bowl, amen! Our shoe-string situation is just temporary.

So far I've visited three places. Centre "A" was my first choice based on fees alone (the lowest, ~thweng~!), but once I stepped onto their premises, I changed my mind pronto. It was like, how shall I put it, like... a market-place. The noise level was what you'd find in a school canteen during recess time. The whole floor space was fully utilised, different areas were divided by partitions, and no matter which corner you are standing in, you'd still get the "full package" of talking children, playing children, a stray wandering child or two, and voices of teachers trying to make themselves heard above the din. A first exposure for me, and an eye-opening one indeed!

Centre "W" was the second place I dropped in on. The fact that Joseph did not cry when I first put him down was already a plus point, compared to Centre "A" where he kept whimpering, I don't know why. I also liked the fact that this place was openly ventilated, meaning it wasn't air-conditioned, so I think that could help minimise the risk of children sharing their bugs with each other as opposed to a closed-up area. This centre did not look as over-run with children as did the first one. I found out that this centre had been opened since more than ten years ago, I wasn't surprised, because this joint sure looked her age!

Centre "S" was of closest proximity to my abode, so I popped in on the way home. The supervisor was very chirpy and bubbly in personality, the whole place seems much brighter than Centre "W", and the children here looked decidedly more happy and cheerful than the first two centres I went to. I saw rows of cups and teaspoons on their shelves, each individually labelled with a child's name. Yes, the supervisor confirmed, to maintain a strict hygiene standard, the children here do not share drinking utensils. I failed to ask, what about the plates they eat from? Are they labelled too? Ha ha... next time I'll ask them... don't lose sleep over it, ok?

Anyway, I have one last place to recce before making my final decision. Will Centre "P" impress or depress me? We'll just have to wait and see...

Am I...?

Yesterday and today, I felt a little nausea. Am I pregnant? I don't really know yet. Perhaps it was just some "bad" food consumed lately that made me feel queasy inside?

Just two days ago, someone advised me not to be hasty in deciding to have a second child. "Emily" said I should wait till Joseph is a bigger boy, maybe about four or five years old. If I have a second one too soon, I may find my hands full and end up feeling frustrated instead.

Actually, I'm prepared for the increased "workload". I prefer having my children's age gap closer, i.e. two or three years apart. Then I can be in the full swing of things, night feeds, diaper changing, bringing up two young children all at one go. I really don't fancy going back to "square one" after I have attained some level of freedom in four or five years' time.

Also, having closer age gaps would facilitate the sharing of common topics between the children. From school work, to juvenile crushes, to teenage angst. Hey, you don't tell your mother everything, do you?

Anyway, I've observed that there are generally two schools of thought. The first advocates having children one at a time, meaning you plan to have the second one when the first child (having achieved a certain independence and ability to appreciate a younger sibling) is at age four or five.

The second group, to which I belong, prefers to just go with the flow. Let's have them now, and be done with it (oops..! sounded a little unrefined back there... my apologies!). Furthermore, William and I only planned to have two children, not a whole soccer team worth of them.

So you see, there is no "right" or "wrong" stance about this whole thing, it all just boils down to Personal Preference and Individual Circumstances.

Anyway, nothing prepared me for motherhood that first time, till today I'm still discovering new things. Ditto for the second time, there may be some unchartered land for me to run aground. Putting God into the picture would help stave off most of my anxieties, if not all.

My dear Lord Jesus, thank You that You were always there for us, and will continue to be so. You are faithful, our faithful Lord!

Any Day Now

Okay, this topic I'm about to dwell on is not something Joseph will be very thrilled about. Why? Because he will be the sole beneficiary of "it" once I got my act together. All this while I had waited for the right moment to execute my "rod of correction", i.e. the Mighty Cane.

I myself, had tasted the cane on numerous occasions as a child, being of a rather rowdy disposition and been bestowed with the gift of Getting Into Trouble. Having grew up in a family of six siblings, I was the only one who climbed trees and had the inclination to jump about the house, anywhere & everywhere, from any object or height. My jumping career came to a screeching halt one day, when I was seven years old.

I well remembered that day because it wasn't supposed to end with me lying on a hospital bed. Normally, little girls played with dolls, or tea sets. I, on the opposite end of the spectrum, preferred more physically challenging games. I loved pretending to be a superhero, a kungfu expert with unbeatable skills, or an undercover agent on a secret mission.

On that fateful day, I was in the role of an invincible swordswoman, jumping from boulder to boulder as I fought off evil villains with masked faces. The arm-chairs in my living room played the part of huge boulders. The villains, as you guessed rightly, existed only in my imagination. Anyway, there I was, hopping from one arm-chair to another. I became over-confident and got careless, missed my footing and rammed my waist into the metal arm-rest as I fell sideways. To cut a long story short, I was hospitalised for half a month because of the injury sustained.

All that, to say I'm no stranger to the cane. Even when I secretly hid or threw away a cane, my late mother had various creative substitutes for it. A clothes hanger came readily within reach. A thin branch broken off the soursop tree in my backyard proved as effective. Even a ruler fished from my school bag was good to deliver a few sound whacks.

If my narration made anyone feel that my mother was a fearsome creature, she wasn't. It's just that I am not exactly the typical sweet and easy daughter. For a mother who had to care for six children, and handle a mountain-load of housework besides, I was the constant straw that broke the camel's back.

Now, let me steer the subject back to Joseph. It's almost time. Any day now, the cane may make its first hit, just a quick swish and an instant pain will be felt. Three days ago, I thought I was going to do it. Surprisingly, Joseph yielded when I only waved the cane in his face. Does he know more than he appears to understand? Hmm...

So, I'm ready to do what I need to do. When the crime fits the punishment, I shall execute the rod of correction. Tough love is still love. Joseph will come to understand where I'm coming from. As I did my mother.

The Baby Is Asleep

The baby is asleep. Yes, Joseph often drifts off to dreamland right after finishing his last milk feed. By then, William is usually already in bed, lying flat with his mouth open. Hey, I'm happy to see that, really, because it's a sign that he is in Stage Four of Sleep, so soundly that he will only awaken if I jump on him, landing with my elbow smack in his middle, WWF-style.

Tonight though, I won't get to see William's oral cavity. He is not here. He is away in Jakarta, Indonesia with his superior and colleagues, and will only be back on Friday night. I guess I do miss him. I don't think my eyes watered because I yawned... because I didn't yawn. It is the first time William went away after we got married.

We were married in May 2003. A year later, in June 2004, Joseph was born. I stopped working and became a stay-home mum. Wait, I did not stop working. By choosing to be a stay-home mum, I actually traded my 8-hour-work for a 24-hour-on-call-job. No income, no raise, no bonus, no leave, no off-duty! So what do I get?

I get to watch my son grow. I am the first person to see his every milestone. First smile, first turn, first crawl. Once, when Joseph was about 15 months old, he did an amusing thing. He stood near the table-fan in my study, and turned his head slowly from side to side, repeatedly. I was puzzled at first, then I noticed he watched the fan as he did that. He was immitating the oscillating action! When the fan turned away from him, he did the same, and when the fan turned towards him, he turned back too and smiled at the fan. This occasional "game" persisted only for a couple of months, and even William didn't get to see it.

Yesterday I received a message from a recruit agency, again. They have been trying to job-match me (ever since Joseph was about 4 months old!), although I mentioned I am a full-time mother, and will not be in need of their services. I must admit, on rare occasions I did feel a slight pull. In my mind's eye, I pictured myself re-entering the work force, being a useful citizen, contributing to society again. Then I stopped-short. Hey! What am I saying? I am a useful citizen, and I am contributing to society! Only, not in the way that conforms to the general viewpoint of the masses. People often wrongly perceive the mother's role as insignificant and unimportant, baby-sitting is best left to those who don't have the qualifications to carve out a successful career for themselves.

In a society that is highly dependent on maids to fill the domestic role, stay-home mums sometimes bear the brunt of being looked upon with disdain. Maids, with their low pay and even lower education, is doing what most women would not give up their jobs for.

I beg to differ. I am a trained nurse by profession. Will I leave my child in the hands of a maid and render care to others instead? A resounding no! A maid can bathe, clothe and feed your baby, but she will never hug and kiss him the way you would, with love. Call me soppy, softie or whatever, but I'm sure the clear message my son gets when he grows older is - he matters a great deal to me!

Ooh..! William just called from Jakarta! I am happy to hear his voice, very happy! I love him! Dear Lord Jesus, grant William plenty of wisdom and favour on this trip. Thank You for your protection, and I love you too, Lord!

What Price, Gluttony?

Here I go a-blogging again, after a long break. Nope, I haven't been busy visiting the whole family clan during Chinese New Year, nor was I occupied hosting one gathering after another. I had been under the weather before the festivities even started, due in part to fatigue (endless chores, remember?) and largely because of my gluttony.

You see, I love food. I love eating. I love snacking. I love yummy delicious-looking goodies. I love titbits and crackers, hot & spicy stuff, crispy-fried munchies. I wished no one had conjured those so-called "proper meals". I would really love to survive on non-proper meals, because they are the fun type of food. A balanced meal, now where's the fun in that? I mean, does protein, carbohydrate & fibre excite you? They even sound dull, and having to "balance your meal" sound very much like work, e.g. balancing your accounts ~groan~!

On the other hand, when you imagine a bag of potato chips and a fizzy drink, ooh! Doesn't it lighten your mood right away? Of course, because they are fun food! Yippee, so I indulged myself a wee bit. Since I had bought CNY goodies anyway, tasting some of it first-hand is like, erm.. well... sampling them for your potential guests. Yeah, so I did just that.

Before I knew it, I had been munching for days. Did I need to sample that much? Oh yes, I reasoned within myself. For the guests' benefit, it's only my rightful duty. Oh yeah? Self-deceit is a real lousy thing, in masking my gluttony as responsibility, gosh, how low have I sunk? Wait, don't tell me, I don't want to know!

Anyway, I reaped the consequences: A Bad Cough & A Very Sore Throat. What is worse is that, my son Joseph, also got the "heatiness". He innocently partook of my "loot" and developed a nasty cough. A short visit to the paediatrician's clinic later, and we came home armed with three bottles of "syrup", for his cough, phlegm and runny nose. No one can imagine the Immense Guilt I felt each time Joseph struggled and cried during "medicine time".

Yes, I shouldn't have behaved quite like an ass. Or a hog. I have learnt my lesson. Does this mean I'm going to quit all fun food from now on? Oh no. The key word is m-o-d-e-r-a-t-i-o-n.

I ended with having a fairly quiet CNY. We had reunion dinner with William's relatives (of course), over twenty of them. On the first day of CNY we visited one uncle, and went home right after lunch, because Joseph and I got exhausted fast. The next four days were spent at home, recuperating. It was a nice change in a way.. hmm... I kind of enjoyed the serenity that came with it, there were no hassles of going from home to home, no exchanging pleasantries and making conversation with relatives you hardly know.

Those few days passed quietly by, and we had some quality family time (I, resenting the cough all that while), which is what a holiday should be to us "busy singaporeans", to serve the purpose of affording us more time to spend with our loved ones.

I also began to truly appreciate "proper meals", a bowl of home-cooked porridge "balanced" with chicken, broccoli and carrots never tasted so good! I was as a parched land welcoming the rain. Yep, my Very Sore Throat enjoyed the brief contact of a (balanced) soft, moist meal.

Joseph had been well for many days now, praise the Lord! As for me, I have more or less recovered, though my voice still sounded slightly nasal.

Lord, I thank you for good health, I should never have taken it for granted. Thank you Jesus, for loving and healing Joseph, I pray You keep him healthy, and sanctify everything that goes into his mouth, amen! Please help me with my gluttony too, thank You Lord!