Photography Smart

Mom's camera

Aung's camera

Myles stayed focused on what he thinks is the right place, looking at where both cameras DO NOT EXIST, happily in his world.
Me, forever, following the wrong light at the wrong time, always too slow or too fast but smiles anyway.
Callum so effortlessly nailed it all the time.
Speaks alot of our personalities and who is best at staying focused.




 

Chinese Criminal

we both are.

Maoster and I.

I don't know what or when it all went downhill but according to him, his mother tongue is English.

" I am English. I am moving to England when I am older." Maoster declared. I raised my eyebrow and rolled my eyes at Aung.

There is obviously NO fairytale ending because, part of the school's curriculumn is to be competent in Chinese language. Even if the education system will try to find a shortcut for English tongues like Maoster - his mom will NOT hear of it. I am Chinese and I speak mandarin. I believe I am bilingual and we attend the chinese congregation in our church. There is beauty and so much treasure in this language. And, I cannot stand my offspring(s), drowning in chinese and suck at it - like failing the subject (almost, close or actually!)

That's how the prison begin work - at least 3 days a week for the past 1 month, there is mandatory 60 minutes with mom. We don't do much, we only make sure he can read all the words in the textbook and honestly it is not much but it is ALOT of madness for Maoster.

The prison walls are hard and cold. The sight and sounds are not pleasant and definitely not for the faint hearted.  Sometimes, visitations by family members are permitted - but they are short and swift ( and Mylo always ends up screaming and crying for he wants to be imprisoned as well).

Maoster and I both started out each session with renewed hope. It always mostly ended in a desperate need of consolation for both parties.

A common conversation will be:
" What is this word?"
"Errrr..... Is it XX? Is it XX?
" NO! Think again"
Maoster panics. My blood boils.
"Try again. Mummy have repeated this like 10 times!"
Maoster panics. His eyes widen, his hands are cold.
I raise my voice and gave the answer.
Maoster repeats the words trying hard to memorise it.
I asked again, he fails to recall the word.
I glared. I raise my voice. Tears flow.

Maoster is a prisoner of Chinese. Unless he knows and feels confidence about the language, he doesn't have the key to freedom and love for the language.

Everytime I raise my voice, I glare and especially when I see the tears flow. I become a criminal. I feel lousy, I feel guilty and  my heart breaks into a million pieces.

I try to end the session with a cuddle. I cuddle my son and tells him that he is doing a good job, that he is trying his best, that it is a difficult subject. I tell him that I love him and that I am doing all that for him.

I think that cuddle is more for me. I hope it frees me - from the fact that I made him a prisoner.

Chinese criminals, we both are. We hope to be free one day.

 

The clock is ticking...

for Mylo to know how to behave in a proper manner. No kicking, no shouting, sit when the car is moving, no throwing of toys, no biting and no no no no no no... to the thousand and one things that he is planning to do.

My very wise mother who took care of all 7 grandchildren told me when Mylo was 6 months old that he will wise up at 12 months. At 12 months old, she confidently said that at 18 months old, he will behave because he would be able to understand us better. Now at 20 months old, refusing to admit defeat, she says that maybe for Mylo, he needs to be 24 months old to really turn over a new leaf.

I am hardly optimistic. Looking at how things goes, I am really not quite sure if he will be the youngest child to be expelled from school. He is not really that BAD, but seriously STUBBORN. He only likes things his way. He only wants to be carried by me ( he shakes his head and screams his lungs off when Aung tries to carry him). He knows that weekday, he has no choice, so he wants NO ONE but my mother. He insists that games should be played according to his rules and his poor long suffering brother has to do all his biddings. He is very sure of what he wants and does not waiver at all to any temptations or "lies" that we tell him. He is always suspicioius if we do anything out of the norm and will storm off to his normal routine. He switches the TV himself, wipes off his own mess and basically likes to be in total control. We are currently, unfortunately in a way being controlled and slightly defeated. Yet, the only saving grace is that amongst all these hurricanes and waves of chaotic mess, the charms and cuteness of Mylo still dominates. Like bad love ( those that you tell your friends or children to quickly get themselves out of - abusive relationship, cheating partners, belitting attitudes), one cannot help but stick around hoping that at the end of the tunnel (24 MONTHS!), he will be loving, gentle, kind, subdued and so ever OBEDIENT!

I hope my mom is right. I mean, all mothers are supposed to be right, right????

 

What's your name?

Today in class, I taught the students about branding - the importance of it and why companies are spending millions of money trying to build a brand name. With that, I also ask my students what do they think of their own name. They had lots of fun telling me the associations they had with some names - say "ROBERT",  "ANGELINE", "ISABELLA", "GRACE" etc.

I remember that nailing down that name for my children was one of the most painful and well most time consuming first few decisions that a parent had to make for their children. Being chinese doesn't help - apart from English name, we have chinese names and we also have a dialect name that our children can have.

Similarly to "What should I wear for my Prom Party", people HAVE lots of things they want to say about your decision of your child's name. Sometimes, they do not say, but their facial expressions tell you all and then you sort of will think twice and put it in your list of names for the family pet instead list.

To make things easier, let's just analyse my boys' names.

My firstborn was named Myles (pronounced as Miles). Many people will like, " what is your son's name again? They try to pronounce it with some luck or no luck at all. Then, it makes me wonder,

1) DON'TANYONE SING THAT SONG?

If you miss the train I'm on, You will know that I'm gone, You can hear the whistle blow 100 miles. Lord I'm 1, Lord I'm 2, Lord I'm 3, Lord I'm 4, Lord, I'm 500 miles away from home.

Myles or Miles is a common word that does not require you to frown for days and go "huh, huh, huh" all the time.

2) PHONICS CLASS PERHAPS?

Because, miles is not MOUSE. I can accept it if you are like 3 year old but if you are 30 and you still crack that, MOUSE AH? MICKEY MOUSE AH? Then basically I do not know what to do with you but send you for phonics class.

The meaning of Myles:
In Latin it means, "Soldier" and that basically means that I want my boy to be a fighter, to win wars. For God, for men, for himself. To defend, to love, to protect ( his faith, his family, his beliefs, his passion)

Of course, of late, I googled and realised that there could be another meaning of Myles which is " Uncertain, perhaps peaceful" that I burst out laughing because, Myles adopts more to this name at his phase of life right now because, he is always in his world, dreaming, thinking, imagining and although I call him blur, he probably feels rather at peace and feeling peaceful.

My 2nd child is named Callum.

That is pretty straight forward. Less pronouciation pain for people -it is of Scottish origin and it means 'DOVE" . Peace loving and all kindness encompassing. I do hope that no one calls him "COLUMN" and if they do, I blame it on our Singapore's educational system which I am a part of.

Painstakingly, I chose my names for my boys. I hope one day when they grow up they will not-

1) reply, "I DO NOT KNOW WHY MY PARENTS GAVE ME THAT NAME"
2) ask, " MUMMY, IS IT OKAY IF I CHANGE MY NAME?
3) become, A COWARD as opposed to a soldier or a TYRANT ANNOYING BRAT THAT DESTROYS rather than being a dove that brings peace and gentleness. 

Writer. Dreamer. Child of God.

I am not talking about myself.

With the Mylo-domination going around the Aung family, I think it is only right not to forget that I have a brilliant and endearing 8 year old to be, who is growing up rather nicely.

WRITER:

NEIGHBOURHOOD WALK EXPERIENCE

Last Tuesday, we were really excited. Do you know why? It (is)was because we were going for a neighborhood walk! We were dismissed for a while, then we waited outside the canteen. I was so excited!
I was surprised that when we were told to walk, we saw many things. But there were so many things that I could not list because I would waste paper. So as I was saying, we walked and walked till I felt that my legs were dropping off! I was so thirsty, that I would drink toilet water! We stopped by post box and I got really excited! After we mailed our letters, I was so tired .(more tired than the word dropping legs). I wanted to go back to school, but my wish was not granted.
Is it? Yes! Mdm Nora said that we were going back to school! So, hope was not lost after all. When we reached school, I felt dehydrated! When I went to the canteen, the first thing I did was to buy a drink. How refreshing!
I hope you will not go for a neighborhood walk unless you are a sports person because you will walk and feel dehydrated just like me. Goodbye, for now.

THE BRAINLESS BIRD

Watch out for it. Waiting for teacher's marking.

JOURNAL OF MAO

When mom steals it.

DREAMER

Maoster has great imaginations. He dreams of funny tales and the great future. The other day, he came back from visiting one of his favourite doctors and pondered over the possibility of being a doctor. I asked him if he really wanted to be one, he probably needs a medicine degree. He asked me IF I want him to be a doctor. He said," I'll do it mom, if you really want me to." I believed him when he said that and I immersed in that magical moment of "mom-son"world for I know I would lose more of such when he grows up slowly and also quickly.

Sometimes he would even ask where he should go as his educational path develops - to the JC or Poly. I know this sounds really weird for a boy who have not even gone through PSLE (isn't it a bit too soon to even contemplate the options?) but my special boy could even tell me the difference - Poly courses are modular basis, meaning that there is no ONE major exam but you are tested throughout the years. JC, however need you to pass this MAJOR exam so it seems more stressful. Chances of going to the university seemed higher with the JC path but with poly, you really need to be top students.
He probably talked to someone. Not me. He comes to me only for food, fun and some cuddles.


Child of God.

It took me years and am still learning about God's soverignity over my desires. Aung's mom fell and hurt real bad on the eye and was sent to the hospital A&E department for doctor's examination and a CT scan. While we were at home, I gather Maoster and ask him to lead the prayer for grandma. This was his prayer (from what I remember of),

" God, we know you care for us. We know you care for Nai Nai (Grandm). Nai Nai fell and had a really really really really really bad bruise. She is now going to have a scan and I hope that there will not be any blood inside her head. If, really, after the scan, there is blood, we will still love you. But, I will grieve for Nai Nai."

I think it is a beautiful, mature prayer. In God's timing, in God's hands. We just commit and trust that God knows what is the best. This is not a "resigned" prayer, but one of great faith and understanding that our God who sees the beginning and the end have designed the best plans for us.

Letting his finger decide his ice-cream flavour. I knew he cheated.

I really wonder how my first-born will turn out in the future. I unveil it with fear, anticipation and excitement. I guess, I probably need lots of prayers and patience and to always remind myself that he belongs to God and that my job is to make sure I return to God what he had given me in good condition!


 

Successful Parenting Tip (Again!)

Following my successful mom tips some weeks ago, Aung had his fair share of good tips to share. We are wonderful parents, so please watch and learn.

Whenever Aung walks Mylo after his dinner (to give my mom's sanity a reason to return), he ALWAYS return with a sleeping baby. We are always very impressed that the ball of energy would hibernate and peace and tranquility could resume for all. Aung always emerged like a hero that had strike down this ferorious bear that had caused damage to the village - It honestly feels like that. We will cheer and squeal with delight!

A few days ago, Mylo was at his best, in terms of stretching his physical and energy capacity. He napped only for ONE PRECIOUS HOUR and refused to sleep anymore. This means, he is, roaming around, waiting to be entertained, fed and changed and up to his activities the entire day. When I returned home from work that day, my mom IMMEDIATELY summoned me to bring him for a walk. In almost the exact words of my mom (translated), " Do what your husband does, bring him for a walk and bring him back ASLEEP!"

That's what I did, rather confidently. I called Aung and told him that I will be bringing Mylo for a walk for some sleep inducement program. Aung said,"Yup, bring him to walk, he surely will sleep."

I  brought him to walk around the neighbourhood. I brought him to the junior college right behind my mom's and walk around the premise. We watched students played basketball. He coo-ed at most of the stuff, pointed in delight that I brought him to the junior college and then even attempted to play basketball with the students. After an hour - he was NOT ASLEEP. In fact, he was really ON FIRE, walking round the basketball courts and chasing after basketballs with screaming students who fear that the ball might just fly at him and strike him dead.

I went home with my failed mission and a wide awake baby. My mom's first reaction was," WHAT!" She would have packed her luggage and left if she didn't have to feed the hamsters and terrapins.

Aung came home and of cos I passed Mylo to him IMMEDIATELY. On the way home, I was complaining to Aung that Mylo didn't sleep when he was with me for an hour walk, I felt like a failure!

Then as if he was hit by the frisbee, Aung excitedly exclaimed, " OH, I FORGOT TO TELL YOU SOMETHING WHEN U CALLED. WHEN YOU BRING HIM TO WALK, DO NOT TALK TO HIM, KEEP PATTING HIS HEAD AND AVOID EYE CONTACT AT ALL COST!"

Then I realised, my darling mylo slept because he was BORED with his father. That was the tip of the day. BORE YOUR CHILD TO SLEEP. This is Aung's parenting tip for all.

Founder of "bore your child to sleep" and success story

Wishing you a very successful parenting journey.

Camps.

We are divided. We now have camps. It is not hard to figure out that Maoster and Aung are in the same camp. They are alike in so many ways that makes me and thankfully now with Mylo "THE ODD ONES OUT" - or something like that. They can be characterised by the following:

1. Love to read
2. Hate the sun
3. Indoor rather than outdoor
4. Fried rice/chicken rice/duck rice over anything else you can find in coffeeshop
5. Laughs at stupid cartoons and shows such as Running man
6. Don't like their food piping HOT
7. Poor motor skills
8. High empathy
9. Knows difference between aligator and crocodile and whatever you can find in science books
10. Poor memory
11. Says sorry easily
12. Likes language and will be on repeat mode*
13. Eats cheeseburgers with apples pies in Mcdonalds and nothing elses (no chicken burgers, no fish burgers, just beef patties burgers with cheese which basically in honestly is a cheeseburger)
14. Love animals, want to have them as pets and will (please don't) turn into vegan if I dun insist meat is supreme food.
15. relaxed and chill. No sense of urgency.

and the list goes on. How can they be so alike????? I always thought I have done my fair share of influencing my firstborn to become where and what I wanna be  - like grow your child your way thingy but no GENES dominates.

Last Saturday as we were at the zoo, I was complaining how fat I looked in photos so I asked Maoster firmly - " Can you just tell me the truth, is mummy like hopelessly FAT?"
Aung was dead quiet. Maoster rolled his eyes, thought for a minute ( like Aung) and he replied, "well..... you know I do not mind..." ( This is so Aung) and I pressed on and asked," So am I or not, like so fat????"

Maoster replied," Well, mummy, I really wouldn't say that (So Aung again).... you are just...hmmmm how should I put it (here we have Mr Aung again), you are like, an UNFED PIG."
"What do you mean, I said?"
Maoster cheekily answered but gently (like Aung), " Well, you are a pig but a thin one... Unfed one... okay, mummy... get it?" and both Aung and Maoster laughed out loud.

Mylo looked at me and I looked at Mylo. Now, we only have each other.

*About the repeat mode: Maoster will repeat words he likes under his breathe when he usese them in a speech. For example, he says to me, "Oh mummy, that show is like super awesome and that boy is like out of the world... ( and he repeats quietly..... out of the world... out of the world.... out of the world....) It is very weird and funny at the same time. (Aung then tells me he does this too, but only in his mind)....

Isn't it weird? (weird... weird.... weird.... repeat mode on....)




 

A good mother is one who will...

ensure that their chil(ren) is safe, secure and happy.

Now look at these following pictures. These pictures demonstrates how your child should look like when they are with you. HAPPY, CAREFREE, CONFIDENT. (refers to baby on the bicycle seat). So happy that he is doing almost a VICTORY sign. If there is a background song, it should be ...."and I think to myself... what a wonderful world..." on loop.

Note that the Victory sign is child-initiated.



Mylo with my sister in law.  

 Now, look at the following picture. This picture is a negative demonstration of how your child should look like when he/she is with you. Note the firm grip (on both hands)on the bicycle seat, the gaze of fear on the child's eyes and the disapproving frown.

Note that the Victory Sign is mom-initiated.

 

The above pictures will guide you in evaluating if you are bringing up your child(ren) the way a good parent should be and how does your child(ren) really feels when he/she/they are with you.Wishing you all a very successful parenting journey.



123, Look who turned ONE.

Callum turns ONE on 11.12.13

A year ago on the same day, both Aung and I were excited to go to the hospital to deliver our 2nd child.  It was a child that we  both had prayed for, teared for and waited for.

Well, enough of emotional ribbons on the crib of gift - I would like to recall the "memorable" stuff that happened on the day of his birth in the delivery suite and to commerate this special 1 2 3 once in a lifetime rubbish date that alot of people are excited about.

So, my 1 2 3 are:

1. The pump that supported the epidural drip DID NOT WORK.
This explains ALOT about the pain that I still felt despite being "wired" up. I keep telling the anesthesiologist that I can still feel the pain down there. After he realised that it is NOT in my mind - it was way too late. Callum is all ready down there wondering what is the fuss outside.

2. Twist and Turn is NOT my dance
Both my boys likes to "burrow" downwards facing up. This is NOT right, according to who else but the gynae who says that babies need to be facing downards this brought to the whole decision that he (the gynae) would have to perform a twist and turn in the delivery suite. Twist & Turn basically means, he puts his hand into me and twist the baby and tries to turn him to face downwards. With Maoster, that was not a problem because the pump worked ( refer to point 1). I was in such a pain down there and Callum being himself was stubborn like a mule and was strong beyond words so, the twist and turn actually took few minutes. Sure, whatever, I was strapped up anyway and just pretend I am not there. Dance like no one was looking.... dance away people....

3. Never eat Mee Siam for BF when you need to poop your baby out.
No pun intended. They asked me to push. I did. I mean - HOW WOULD I KNOW THAT MEE SIAM WAS NOT MY BABY????

So after the above 1 2 3 - my baby is finally OUT!

Blessed 1st birthday Babycake!

May you grow to know just how good our God is.

We love you so much - your smiles, your growls, your silly actions.

We hope you have enjoyed your 1st year with us as we celebrate being four with your arrival.

The very grouchy face when he first woke up realising he turned 1. He had the same annoyed face when he was pulled out. 

 

Becoming four... our thanksgiving journey

 

 

We cannot be thankful enough and we have not been happier.

2nd Firstborn

That's how Aung likes to identify Mylo as.

After a 6 years hiatus and 100% Maoster, Aung looked at his baby Mylo last night and whispered to him: " You know, you are like our 2nd Firstborn? I would stare at your awesomeness the whole day."

And in case you think, like the movies, that Mylo would have stared and gazed right back at his loving father's eyes - think twice. Mylo just merely showed his boredom and walked away!

 

Mylo at 10 months old. Bursting with grins and goodness!

 

Brother John will not sleep well ever again

To the tune of "Are you sleeping?" - a well known children lullaby.

 

Watermelon, Watermelon

Banana Banana

Raisins, Raisins, Raisins

Raisins, Raisins, Raisins

Rambutan, Rambutan

 

 

Maoster asked." Are you in a good mood?" before he sang the song.

I raised my brows. "Sure!Go ahead, sing me the song I said."

After the song, I said, " It's just a fruit song what! Why would I be upset?"

Maoster quickly clarified.... " NO, mummy! The boys at the school bus said it was a body part song!"

I laughed till I cried. It was insanely funny to me. And just before I could stop and catch my breathe, Maoster said," Now that you think it's funny, let me show you the actions of the song!"

 

PS: If you do not know the lullaby of "Are you sleeping?", you better keep up to speed at youtube. Or else how would you sing the fruit body part song! And, don't ask what fruit represents which body part!



Because turning 7 is a blessing itself...

Maoster turned 7 years old yesterday.

This year I was specially reminded of the grace and mercy that was upon us during Maoster's delivery 7 years ago. Many times, as we celebrate Mylo's arrival after a good 6 years of "incompetency and frustrations", this year, I sorta of reflected that Myles' birth was also rather "dramatic".

Maoster was always a small baby. Each time we go to the gynae, there would be extreme remarks - mummy's weight gain is remarkable whereas Maoster is barely struggling to meet the lower percentile.

Then, there was the "show' at exactly 35 weeks. I remembered clearly that I had a business lunch and then I had to go to the hospital. In fear. In panic. I was rushed to the labour ward and all I could do was to tell the nurses that," I AM NOT READY FOR DELIVERY. MY BABY IS TOO SMALL."  The gynae came, he wasn't really delighted. He said we will try our best to keep the baby inside the tummy because he may be too small in terms of weight and his lungs are not ready.

I stayed an awful night over at the observation ward. It was nasty. I hated that place. That place had too much crying for my liking. Women were admitted for all the reasons that I had never ONCE thought of - water bags bursting or leaking where their babies  are not ready for delivery. It means they may lose their babies as I lay there quietly in my bed. I thought I had a problem, but at least my baby is most probably going to make it - just whether or not he would be in NICU or something like that. Not ideal but would make it. Already I was quite a wreck, I really wouldn't want to be in their shoes. I was given jabs to enlarged the baby's lungs in case I had to deliver like now or tomorrow.

After a day, I was "released", and after a week, there was really no way I could stop the birth. I was strangely "induced". Many people prayed alongside us. The prayers were specific: A healthy baby that could breath and eat on his own, weighing at least 2kg (that were the non- NICU requirements). Our last weigh for the baby a day before was 1.9kg or less.

Maoster was born, 20th October 2006 weighing 2.6kg. Healthy with loads of hair! A charmer till today.

And.

God's love and mercy fills my heart and I am thankful and grateful that God gave us what we prayed for when He need not.

                                                          Myles Aung. 20 October 2006.

 

                                                                   His last day of being six.

Our prayers for Maoster is that he grows up fearing and loving our Father and know that indeed God's love is sufficient for all our needs all our days on earth.

 

Happy Birthday, Babycake. We love you so much.

So different, yet the same.

Six years of solo Maoster. Six good years with Maoster. Six calm good years with Maoster. Six serene, calm, gentle years with Maoster.

Then, with the grace of God, came Mylo.

Mylo is really different from Mao. Refreshing different? Alarmingly different? Amazingly different?  Every day Aung and myself will be talking about their striking differences when they are babies.

1. Maoster waits, Mylo wails.

Maoster gives us time. Time to react. When he is hungry, he toss and he turns and makes a gentle reminder sound and goes off all quiet. And we have time to tell him, we know, we have received his"order" and then calmly go to make his milk.

Mylo gives us no time. He flips, he frowns, he wails. As if he had placed his "order" with you long long long time ago and you did not register. He wails as if you had neglected him and he is upset. Angrily upset. If his wails could be googled translated, it probably means," I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR BOSS! WHY IS YOUR SERVICE STANDARDS SO POOR!" And we rush to make him milk, trembled as his cries gets louder and he only stops when he tasted milk.

2. Maoster is cautious, Mylo is chiongster.

Maoster, at a very young age, knows that his actions will lead to our approval or displeasure. And, to our happiness, he aims to please. There is NO problem in telling him what not to touch, what not to eat and what not to do. He will obey and will not question. He was easy to please and persuaded.

Mylo knows no fear. He knows exactly what he wants. If he wants this ball, he wants this ball. He will scream and yell and tell you the very instant if the ball is taken away from him. He wants the steering wheel of the car ( his favourite!) and everytime he goes into the car, he would want to hold it, touch it and lick it! He is not easily distracted and not at all persuaded.

3. Maoster has table manners, Mylo has hearty appetite.

Maoster does not cry over food. He does not place 10 biscults in his mouth at a time. He does not want your food when he has his own. He does not eat when he is already full. He will not want ramen at age of 9 months.

Oh, Mylo, he loves eating everything that is not his. He loves our food - he will eat anything. He will use his powerful fingers to grab all food and his techniques are rather well executed that he will be able to place MOST of the things he grabbed into his mouth and he will purse his mouth and you will NEVER be able to get the food out of his mouth. This include mostly papers and big chucks of food that he will choke. He rather choke than not to eat. DIE OR EAT. I CHOOSE EAT!

4. Maoster acts on his knowledge, Mylo acts on his guts.

His first flip, his first stand, his first crawl and his first walk. Maoster will do it the first time well. As if he had been practising it when we were asleep and he will not do it unless he is confident to do it. He took a longer time to crawl, to walk and to stand. But when the time comes, he just performed.

Mylo just do it. He knocks himself. He falls flat on his tummy. He screams and is angry for his incompetency. He will attempt all acts even though he has NO IDEA what he is doing. He climbs up the chairs, he squeezed himself out of the grills of the door to get himself out of the corridoor. He refused to calmly composed himself to get himself in a right or comfortable position. He wants to do it. Mylo therefore, after all that struggles and pains and squeals, crawled, sit, stand and walk way beyond his time.

5. Maoster loves books, music and watches the day past by. Maoster loves to be carried, thrown in the air, chew and screamed the day away.


6. Maoster sayang, Mylo knows kungfu!

Maoster will cuddle up close like a Koala when we carry him and he will be happy to be snuggled up our body close and be at that position like forever.

Mylo loves to strike when we least expected. It is a chain of kungfu techniques - He will 1) Pull our hair with both hands, 2) Bang his face on our face and 3) the most deadly act of all, he will sink his choppers into our cheeks and 4) he will go AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

The list goes on. From strength, to vocal, to temprements........... their differences are more significant day by day.

Does their differences brings about our preferences?

Aung calls one, WORLD PEACE and the other WORLD DOMINATION.
Aung calls one, ORIGINAL MAO and the other SPICY MAO

We laugh at their differences. We exclaimed their differences and we celebrate their differences.

They are the same what, says Aung, they are BOTH SO CUTE and BOTH SO ENDEARING.

 

Cos I am beautiful Momma....

according to my friend Shermeen. Some time ago, in her blog: Just Us & a lili Boy she mentioned that my blog is somewhat worthy of such an award.

Although I am not formally part of any community that blogs, I can definitely understand and share some of the sentiments that mothers face each day with their little ones. And, as a polite person, I humbly accept this title because, she give me one mah, can say dun want meh ha ha ha..... she might be one of the very few people who bothers to read my blog anyway!

She asked me to list 3 things I love being a mother and all mothers can tell you ( on a good day, of cos!) that there are more than 3 things a mother would love of their child(ren) - I mean, wouldn't you sound like a BAD mother if you only have 3 or less ha ha ha ha ha.... So, I thought about it and I came up with 3 things that I really really really really love being a mother.

1. KIDS MEAL.
You can NEVER order a kids meal if you do not bring along any accompanying child of that stipulated age. And, the kids meal are all so cute! They come in the cutest cutlery and plates and always have a kiddy drink ( my favourite is yakult) and of cos, the young ones love fried food right so the kids meal ALWAYS have something fried which is what I LOVE. Sometimes I order 2 kids meal ( one for the real child, the other one as an appetizer for sharing) - hee.... I mean, my child have a hearty appetite... CANNOT MEH when asked... but they never ask lah.. which is lovely.... COS KIDS MEAL are awesome.

2.PRIORITY ON PLANE

When you do not have $$$$ to be on business class or whatever raffles class or some VIP Club members...... you get to board the plane FIRST when you are accompanied with children. I mean you wouldn't want to bring OTHER children for a trip cos they are LIABILITIES and BURDENSOME but your own, it's called CREATING FOND MEMORIES and BONDING session. When the queue is really long and it is a awfully packed flight, I beamed with happiness when the announcement is made that passengers with young children etc etc please board the plane.... as I walk towards the entrance, I feel ( totally my own imagination) that I am the envy of thousands and I will sway and look at them ( my own imagination at play again!) that says " NO CHILDREN LAH TOO BAD LAH YOU! YOU WAIT LONG LONG AND WALK ON OTHER PEOPLE's TOES and NO MORE LUGGAGE SPACE FOR YOU....
Did I mention the kids meal on the plane sometimes are more delicious than adult's and you can always ask for toys!

3. YOU CAN ALWAYS BLAME IT ON THEM

Oh, I am late because... you know Maoster was fussy. Mylo was crying....
Oh, I can't talk to you on the phone because, they are crying now... what you can't hear them crying... yar I am in the living room but they are crying OH SO LOUD... serious..... bye....
I am not wearing any make up and my shoes dun match my clothing because I had such a bad night taking care of them and I woke up feeling like shit. Worrying about my poor children. Yes, that stained on my shirt was caused by them... not because I never wash properly....new stain okay.....
I am fat because I have not time to exercise. I need to feed them, clean them, prepare them for school,
No, I have not heard of the latest political news or world's latest invention because, you know lah, I am busy reading Dr Suess.....
And the list goes on....

There you go. My 3 listings of why I love being a mother. :) If you are not a mother, yet and in some time to come you would want to be.... ENJOY THE 3 things I listed.... until they are all grown up and stinky and doesn't qualify for the incentives above..... Thank God for making me a woman and upgrading me to a MOTHER! :)

And..... although I am suppose to nominate other mothers.... my circle of friends are really limited ( cos I am a mother you know, I am very busy okay) and.... I shall just be lazy and omit them!

Harvesting the crop

Callum Aung arrived. Not now but on 11th of December 2012. My 2nd child. A new son.

His arrival meant a few things:

1. I can shut off many mouths that asked, " When is the next one coming?"
2. I now have to divide my time and resources and food by 4.
3. My darling oven can now officially retire after so many half-baked turnouts these few years. Sex is no longer for pro-creation  ha ha ha... but what sex now with a newborn?

And the list goes on.... a new child meant many things but to me, above all, it meant that my crop that God promises had been harvested.

In the last ectopic pregnancy- I almost swore that this would be the last attempt, I had a dream - not sure if you call that dream...... or more of floating off..... right after my surgery. The word of God came to me and ask me to read James chapter 5 verse 7. When I woke up from my sleep. I was thinking to myself, is this really the word of God that is speaking to me. What if the joke was there is no James chapter 5 verse 7...... I quickly took out my iphone and I googled. And there it was.


The verse reads:
 Be patient, therefore, brethren, until the coming of the Lord. Behold, the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient over it until it receives the early and the late rain.

I pondered over the above verse and frankly, I was more of "Sarah" and doubted that God was seriously asking me to give it another shot and be patient? Is this what He was trying to tell me? I kept this to myself and a few close people. After all, a false prophet will be stoned to death!

This verse gave me somewhat a consolation that I have to be patient. The best is yet to come. The precious fruit needed the right season and the Lord will deliver it and I just have to wait. Hope for the best and wait. Waiting is not mother's nature, at least not this mother.

Less than a year later, I became pregnant. And... things just progressed. The heartbeat was detected. The growth was good. The blood works looks fine..... and week 38 came and my gynae checked me and said, you know your cervix is like errmmmmm a ripe papaya ( a fruit!) and it is soft now and is ready.

I harvested the crop with a heart full of thanksgiving. I pray that my newborn will have a heart full of His love and obedience of Him. A heart that seeks His face and his will.

My fruit! I must say, this is a darn- good looking plumpy fruit! The Aungs finally became 4.

Mao's World - Primary One.

Maoster enters formal education this year.


So far, apart from maths ( probably from me) everything seems to be okay. Of cos, he couldn't tell time yet. Of cos, he thinks 90cents is bigger than a dollar. But, my boy seems to be able to "get through" his days by using little bits of EQ and IQ.

On telling time:

He sticks with friends who know how to tell them. They leave, he leaves. I have told him so many times to learn to time. He says why bother? He hates to wear a watch, in fact, he hates to wear anything that are uncomfortable ( like his dad). He doesn't like socks. He doesn't like hats. He doesn't like jeans. He hates shoes. ( every morning when he wears school shoes, he complains), he hates tags behinds his shirts. He loves boxers and crocs. He wears crocs EVERYWHERE, even to wedding dinners ( i give up having to hear him whining all day long).... I digress...

On money matters:

He figures out that eating fried rice gives him the least headache in school. It cost a dollar. No fuss. No change. Just the wonder of a golden coin.
Chicken porridge requires 2 steps. A golden coin and then the auntie gives him some coins back. 30cents of coins. How much I ask him then is the chicken porridge - he says, I dunno!
Well, he maintains the fact that he buys only these 2 items because he is afraid that he doesn't have enough money. Well, I told him that we gave him enough $$$ (1.50) and that he should be able to buy enough food. He says, okay if you say so. Next day, he scolded me. He says he doesn't have enough $$$. Oh well, he ordered fried rice and the dishes from the economic rice..... it's like 2 meals i told him.... he says, well I told you mummy, I do not have enough money. I told you so!

General:

Feedback from the teachers seems to say he is coping well in school. He is very quiet ( which is true, cos he says teachers say no talking and if i talk, what if I get reported?) and he is very happy about PE and PAL lessons whereby he gets to visit the library.

Well, we will know how thngs goes as assessment are in week 8 and to be in total honesty, I am really worried about how he stands academically. It takes many reminders to tell myself that he is young and unique and that academics is only one and actually rather small ( enlarged in Singapore context) aspect of his entire life.

Social:

He seems to get along okay with his peers. Yesterday he spoke to me about BAD words. It was really funny actually. The bigger boys at the school bus taught him. 2 words. They are BAD words. REALLY BAD he said and that he shouldn't say it in front of me because they are rude and really BAD.

I laughed when he told me what are these words.

1. KING KONG COCK.
2. VAGINA.

Boys will be boys. I told him non-chalently what they mean and tell him that since he knows these are rude words and the latter is just a female organ, there is nothing more to it. He sehe might seems to accept it. For now. I was thinking should i explain King Kong Cock as a gigantic rooster but I thought that I should just tell him what the boys meant.

However with Maoster stepping into formal education - his little mind is beyond our control. What he sees, learns, choose to retain. The friends he makes, the values he holds..... from the biggest to the smallest, my little one is exposed.

Exposure is not a bad thing. Non-exposure is. However exposure comes with risk and with risk sometimes it allows one to gain even more. For now, we just pray that the values and love we have given him and the faith of his family will carry him through.

What's your cross?

Last Sunday during Church service, Maoster asked me why the cross in church is a t. I was rather puzzled why he asked me. I told him that all crosses are t. I even went an extra mile to explain to him about how it was made with 2 planks of wood and how Jesus sacrificed himself. Upon listening to my explanation, I thought that he would have seen the light and think of his mother as a student on the Dean's list. Alas,he looked more perplexed.




He pressed on, and said, " but Mummy, the cross in my school is a X. I was really scratching my head, as his school was also a church and I got really confused. I asked him if he was sure, he said," Yes, Mummy, really, in Bethesda, my school, the cross is a X.



During times like this, when all things fail, Aung has the solution. I mean, Mister know it all solved the mystery. He asked his son, if he meant, in his homework. A cross is an X. And, of cos, everything falls into place. World peace.

I was highly amused (as always) by the things that goes in my son's mind. It's amazing the things he thinks and the things he say.

Few days later, as I recall this incident, I am somewhat reminded of the "cross story". I mean, what comes to your mind, when we say, what is a cross?

The love of the cross, the mercy of the cross, the grace of the cross.
The cross that crosses out all the cross in our lives.

A song for the winter season

"Blessings"

We pray for blessings
We pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love is way too much to give us lesser things

'Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

We pray for wisdom
Your voice to hear
We cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt your goodness, we doubt your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough
All the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we'd have faith to believe

When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win
We know that pain reminds this heart
That this is not our home

What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy
What if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights

Are your mercies in disguise

The way boys shop

I have this problem with shopping with my boys. It is always darn boring. I went Sim Lim once with my Aung - that experience was never repeated. He would look at EVERYTHING, even if they are same items. He would excitedly tell me this printer would be like this and that ram is like that and I really died on the spot.

Yesterday I had a chance to shop with Mao (window of course) and with time to kill before our movie, I brought him to the departmental store. He is just like his dad. He looked at EVERY toy and describes to me every single thing it is there. It was both cute and highly irritating at the same time.

I captured a video of him looking at his toys - what you are going to see is only 2 minutes. I was at the store with him for 45 minutes and he goes on and on and on. I particularly like the last part when he said, "We think about it". That's so Aung as well.



Shop with the boys? No way! I need my girlfriends and our shopping are definitely much more interesting!