Mr Cable

I can't find my camera cable. ARGH. I have looked everywhere - bags, office, desk (yes, it's a "place" to look because PF's desk looks like this, minus the car), floor, drawers and in assorted nooks and crannies, but I just can't find the elusive, blasted thing! This is very unlike me because I always "put my things back where they belong" (years of a mother's threats nagging conditioning encouragement does that to you). The problem now is, I'm pregnant, so I can't remember where that place of "belonging" is. The bigger problem is, this is not the 1st pregnancy.

And that means a lot of things...

• I lost memory cells the first time round.
• They didn't come back.
• I'm losing more this time round.
• And they're not coming back too!

I'm getting stupider and stupider by the minute and those fish oils sure ain't helping. -___-"

I've got a few things to blog about too (DN's first proper haircut, Our family stay-cation, Planning for DN's 3rd birthday party), so me not being able to find the blasted cable is really getting on my nerves.

It's been missing for about 2 weeks, and after some active searching, I decided to just leave it be, hoping that Mr Cable will just walk up to me and tap me on the shoulder one day. Okay, add "delusional" to the dem-pregnancy-books-don't-tell-you-about-these-PERMANENT-side-effects list.

Mr Cable! Where are you!?

A Breakthrough?

Last week was a bad week in school for DN. He had just gone back to school after a week and a half of staying at home, recuperating from a phlegmy cough. It was BAD. Getting back into the school groove I mean. Even getting him to put his uniform on was a struggle - me running waddling around the house after him as he's moaning and groaning away, "I don't want to go to school!" Drop-offs were worse. Ugh.

So imagine my surprise when there were no theatrics when I dropped him this morning. No crying, no weeping, no complaining. He just let go of my hand and walked through the gate into the playground. He even said "bye"!

By jove, I think we've got it!

Bilingual Bunny and Monolingual Mommy

I'm so sorry my posts have been so sporadic and unpredictable. I'm just so uninspired, AND uninspiring myself. Ugh. Add the fact that I'm ballooning at such an embarrassing rate (people think I'm going to give birth next month, ack) and have started to waddle like a duck (but it's just SO comfortable!) and you get a very disgruntled, grumpy and pregnant duck-woman. I'm SO not embracing my pregnant body! :p

Anyhows, DN has been saying the darnest things these past few days, I just MUST share them. You know how people always tell you, "Yeah, sure you will enjoy it when they first start to talk, but soon you just want them to shut up!"

Oooh, I don't!

I lurvelurvelurve talking to DN and I lurvelurvelurve hearing all the funny things he says. You'll all be proud to know that he's turning out to be quite the bilingual bunny and is putting his monolingual mommy to utter shame. DN speaks to PF and I in English and to his paternal grandparents and PF's sister exclusively in Mandarin. My baby can code-switch! Hee hee hee! Just the other day, he was conversing with his aunt in the car and I overheard him saying this, "改天我要去爸爸的 office." I almost mounted the kerb. 改天??? Alamak, I only know 今天 and 明天 and I still get my 后天 and 前天 mixed up!

So a few days later, I decided to show him one up and told him, "DN! 小心!" I can't remember what he was doing - climbing up a chair? Drinking from my Bodum glass (ack!)? Anyway, the little bugger laughed at me! He actually said, "小心! 小心! Hahahahaha...!" I don't believe it. The cheek!

So yeah, monolingual mommy is feeling very embarrassed... and yet proud at the same time. It's a funny feeling. *sigh*

So... what kind of mouse are you?

Is it a bad thing if your son replies "go shopping centre" or "go supermarket" if you ask him what he wants to do? Hmm... I'm not sure. On the one hand, at least I know he'll be able to navigate though the concrete jungle next time (threatening to cancel credit cards to get another free year of subscription, modifying the Wii to play pirated games, cheating when plucking car park coupons...), but on the other hand, to not have the experience of catching fish in drains or climbing a tree must be quite a sad thing don't you think?

So yes, DN is definitely a city mouse, not a country mouse. And it's our fault of course. We just don't expose him to nature enough. And with the weather threatening to fry us silly, it's not like I'm going to start traipsing around Sungei Buloh anytime soon.

Our most recent (and valiant) attempt was 2 weekends ago when we brought DN to West Coast Park for some hotcakes, cycling and sand play with Reubern and Sophie. We brought DN's tricycle along and phwoarh! That really tested his non-existent sharing ability together with my patience. -_- If anyone has any tips on how to get an almost 3 year old to share, I'm all ears.

So except for the "This is mineminemine!" raving and ranting, all of us city mice had a good time in the "pseudo" country. At the sand pit, DN just leapt right in, dug his feet and hands into the sand and was basically just loving it as his mommy tottered after him with tissue to wipe sand off his face (futile, don't know why I bothered... sand and children go together like peanut butter and jam). I really had to bite my tongue from saying, "Argh! Don't touch your hair!" or "Eep! Don't pick that up!" or "Aiyah! Don't kick the sand into your eyes!" and of course, "You stink! Let's go home now!"

Sigh... I'm the real city mouse.

But city mouse or not, I'm glad we brought DN there because he had a swell time, smelly or not. We've been back once since that last trip and we're going again this weekend. :D

Bessie

Did you have nicknames for your baby during pregnancy?

PF and I called DN "pups" (and we still do sometimes) because he was born in the year of the dog.

When we found out about #2, we toyed with "buttercup" and "bessie" (cow mah!). Personally, I prefer "buttercup". Gives you an image of a peaceful cow chewing cud in the meadow and swishing her tail eh? But saying it is such a mouthful. So "bessie" it was. Anyway, isn't "buttercup" the name of some Malaysian brand of butter?

Anyway, I must say, for Bessie, I've been really really good. I have only bought ONE THING for her so far. I'm quite impressed with myself because oh my, the things you can buy for girls! Hair clips, hair bands, petticoats, tights, dresses (oh, the dresses!)... etc. Shopping for boys is really boring. So boring that I only bought 6 months' worth of onesies when I was 6 months pregnant with DN. Like I said, *yawn* boring. It was more interesting picking the colour of his stroller.

Surprisingly, I've managed to keep myself in check for Bessie and only bought this pair of shoes from Pediped. Gasp! Am I growing up???

Dear Mrs Ong...

Oooh, it's really strange being called that! But it's time I got used to it because it's been 6 years since we got married after all. LOL.

I'm bringing this up because DN brought home his communication book last week. It's a book for us to communicate with his teachers in school. When he brought it home, DN was so proud of his HANDiwork (hur hur!) he showed it off to everyone and explained to us how he did it. It's the first thing he's brought home from school and I'm so proud of it too! As a mother, if he had brought home a scrap of torn paper with some senseless doodle on it and claimed it to be a bus, I would probably still worship the poop that came out of his butt and thought my son the next Monet.

Ahhh... such is a mother's love (and blind biasedness!).


Anyway, part of the first note from his teacher read:

"Dear Mr and Mrs Ong (ack!),
DN is able to adapt in our centre after a week's experiences. (awright!) He plays with his friends and he is able to express his basic needs. However, (uh-oh...) he didn't approach his teacher when he needed to pass urine during morning outdoor play and in the classroom before naptime."

I replied with a word of thanks to the teachers for helping him settle in and asked a few questions:

1. Is DN generally happy in/with school?
2. Is he eating (and drinking) well at meal times?
3. Does he listen well to instructions?

(part of) Her reply:

"Hi Mrs Ong (ack!),
DN was able to go to the toilet in the classroom this morning, except (uh-oh) during outdoor activity this morning. For meal times, he'll eat more or finish the food when we feed him (that means he won't if he self-feeds!). He is able to follow simple instructions and he is very helpful towards his friends and teachers (awww...!)."

I guess my little bub is settling in. :)

Another thing I have been paranoid about is how he's playing with his other little friends. I am just so worried that he will start shoving and snatching. Survival of the fittest eh? But the teacher's feedback is that he does none of these things. Am I relieved or what!!! I don't mind if DN is not the brightest bulb in the pack, but I do want him to grow up polite, well-mannered, with the right morals and be a person who's sensitive to people and animals above all things. What's the point of being a Harvard scholar when you can't even say "thank you" to the auntie that cleans your table at the hawker centre?

Hmm...

Okay, I'll be really honest. I want him to be that Harvard scholar who ALSO says "thank you" to the auntie at the hawker centre. Haha!

Mornings Are The Worst

The first thing DN said to me when he woke up this morning was, "I don't want to go to school!" Ahhhhh. :( For the past week, every morning contains pretty much the following:

• DN running away from me and his school uniform
• DN wailing that he wants to stay at home
• DN insisting that I don't go to work
• DN refusing to wear his shoes or walk out of the house

Because of him, my list is pretty much the same actually.

• Me not wanting to go to work.
• Me not wanting to put his uniform on because the bugger runs quite fast!
• Me wanting to stay home and watch Bob The Builder with him because it's just easier you know?

Sigh.

In school, it's the koala syndrome I have to deal with, something I know other moms out there can relate to. DN develops this amazing velcro ability to just "stiiiiick" to my neck / leg / arm / other convenient body part, and can be quite difficult to remove. So he's usually peeled off me (wailing of course) by a teacher and I have to harden my resolve, wave bye, say I'll come back later and just chabot!

What else can you do right?

So I've decided to really go ahead with that scrapbook idea. I took some pictures of his school and the fun stuff they do there, and have been looking through them with DN in the mornings. It does help a little bit (and I stress LITTLE) and he does get a little happy (I'm not even using the word "excited" here) pointing out his shoe rack, his cubby hole, his bag, the sand toys, etc... so I'm hoping the scrapbook will help.

The Breakfast Area

The Menu Board

The (erm) Garden

The Garden Patch

The Sand Pit

The Rides (his fav pic)

The Water Play Area

DN's Classroom

The classroom now looks so *bleah* compared to all the outdoor shots!

The Bub Having His Temperature Taken

The Fake Smile (they had hard boiled eggs for breakfast one morning last week)