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.

 

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!


 

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....)




 

Becoming four... our thanksgiving journey

 

 

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

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!

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.

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!

Mumster

I think I am morphing into a mumster - the monster who is wearing the name tage that reads mother. The worst part of it all, was how much I hated to be a mother like that. Some of the mumster behaviour includes:

A compulsory writing time for Maoster - he hates writing with a passion and he is very particular with his writing - all the stroke needs to be executed precisely - the line must not be too long etc. When he begin to write and he realised it is not "perfect" to him, he will start throwing his hands in the air and says, OH NO I DUNNO HOW TO DO IT! I wish sometimes he would be less "perfect" and just go with the flow. He only writes the things he have confidence in and now his most hated letter is "y" because he gets the stroke wrongly and he will have to redo it and that's why if I get him to write his name- i get a big M and he will say I DUNNO! I wish I could say that I am the most patient mother, but alas not. Everytime he says I am tired, I dunno, I can feel my blood boiling.... wait, it starts when I say okay writing time and he will run to his bed and lie down and say I am so so so tired today mummy!

Piano practice at least 3 times a week ( executed by Aung) - I have no musical cells or talent. My pitch is wrong, my notes reading is at level 0. Maoster, after having gone for lessons for almost a year and a half- still can't recognise the notes!!! The teacher says we have to practice with him at home ( which we never did for the last 1.5 years) and I think we are really wasting our money if we do not practice. With my gentle Aung executing this project, I really hope Maoster wouldn't have new tricks up his sleeves or my Aung will really fall for it. But, this is really not my area of expertise - so I am only a kan chiong onlooker ( and I think I look really stupid as one).

Phonics class started for Maoster this year. I hope he could read better. I am not too worried about his reading initially and was still rather happy he could read some words and stuff and then suddenly, I realised that his peers are recognising more words and could spell. (There was a reading assessment done and I got another friend kid to do it and apparantly he could read all the words !) Okay, someone pushed the panic button!

Name in chinese writing has started too - I am suppose to teach him how to write his chinese name and my mom is complaining that why did I choose such a difficult name for him! My mom will call me and say, can you teach your son how to write his chinese name because the teacher is going to ask him to write soon!

I hate being such a mother - I mean where are the oh, children developed differently? Where are the, let the child enjoy his childhood? Where is the taking the road less travelled? Where is the exploration of a child's creativity and passion? When has it been replaced by Why aren't you writing? Why you don't like to write? Why are you not wearing your clothes by yourself?

I look deep inside me and I truly understand that a good mother nurtures and develops and knows each child is different and is talented in all their ways. Then, I went to work and the latest intake of students showed me their result slips and I gasped in fright. F9, E8, D7......... and I want to believe in the beauty of their capability beyond the academics - but that doesn't stop me from thinking oh my goodness, Mao better study hard!

I am torn being free spirited and being constrained by all these woes.

On the first day of Maoster K1 class, he came home and told me that he finished his writing in school and he need not bring back his worksheet home. He happily told me that it was so easy and that his friend did it wrongly and had to bring back home to do it. The teacher asked mummy to go home and coach that kid, so my mom overheard. I asked Maoster, so you can do it and need not bring it home? ( he usually is the kid who brings back homework cos the teacher says, your son is day dreaming yet again in class - he likes to talk to himself and role play). He told me excitedly that, "No mummy, it was so easy, so I finished it so fast you know?"
My first reactions was like, "WOW! You are so clever ah - better than your friend ah! Well done lor maoster, see your friend got to finish it at home!"
After the whole excitement sank in, I was thinking, gosh, I am a mumster! Where is the empathy? Where is the humility? Where is the cheering for your friend?

Gurps, HELP! I am a MUMSTER! REWARD GIVEN FOR NABBING THE MUMSTER IN THE BUNSTER! SOS! Are you feeling like this too?

The storyteller

Maoster and I talk alot during our drive back from my mom's to home. Yesterday I thought why not we play a game of "Who has the funniest story" competition. It will always start with Once Upon A Time and end up with The end. I think Maoster wins hands down. His tales are really quite good. I think he came up with easily 8 or 9 stories. My favourites are:

#3: Once upon a time, I climbed up a tree. I couldn't come down. The end.
#2: Once upon a time, I went to supermarket and I bought so many things and in the end, I forgot to bring them home. The end.
#1. Once upon a time, I went to the supermarket and I bought alot of toys. So many toys. I go home, I opened up the box and huh? It's a bra? I'm a boy! The end.

I laughed till I ached. My boy doesn't seem too academic in school but he is one great comedian.

Mao's picking the tab! Woot!

So Godma Gee told us she bought some YOG commemorative card for her godson Mao (at $25 bucks each - oh my!) and we really didn't take this matter to heart and brushed it with an okay.

The excited Godma drove and deliver this LYO card to Maoster and HOLY MOLY, its a prepaid VISA card. I was like :" What? VISA CARD? DEBIT CARD? CASH CARD? At 3.5 years old?" I think Maoster has arrived with this new card.

Back at home, he was playing with the card, pretending to enter the gantry of the gates of the MRT, paying for his purchases etc.....

His only complain was: " How come only got MYLES AUNG on the card? Where's HE LEI?"

So..... now we are trying to con Godma to top up the card for him and there's no more question who's going to pick up the tab the next time round.

Do you accept VISA?

Overheard...

outside the boy's room. Both my boys went to take a leak.

Maoster: Let's play penis fighting. And then, I will "KOK" your head.

I seriously dunno if my gentle Aung can take a leak in peace.

Good times that flies at bullet train speed

I was rather determined (after Gee's rather determined) to travel nearby to eat and play and relax. The opportunity came at the Vesak day break. Determined am I, despite Maoster's HFMD breakout, the doctor certified him clean on thursday morning. Despite my hubby's reservist, the army decided to let him out at 6pm (yes the latest we could imagined it to be) and despite the fact that we only managed to find rooms for 1 night as Vesak day holidays proved to be booming the Malaysia's tourist economy.

And Aung's happiness was when he found rootbeer float with frozen mugs. He ordered a coney dog meal with it. Seldom will Aung eat when he already had lunch. Aung seldom snack. So good for me cos I am now NOT THE ONLY ONE who snack. Maoster refused the drink and asked me if its medicine.

Then Maoster happiness came when this really ridiculously looking kiddy joy ride came. Of cos they have to choose a rabbit carriage to sit on - I am tickled by this rabbit. Aung only comments were after looking at this pic is that he has always insist on riding on rabbits only. Hmmmmmm. Next.
Then Godma brought Maoster to the fishing shop and he got this fishing net at RM3. Not bad, we managed to catch 6 fishes with it on Sunday when I went "fishing" with Maoster at Lower Pierce Reservoir. Don't worry, we let the fishes go before we left - Maoster was cool with it. He says the fishes, see you next week.

And of cos by God's abundence grace- we managed to find a family suite at this 5 month old boutique hotel ( someone cancelled last min) and we got this room with a master bedroom, 2 singles and a jacuzzi in it. Maoster must be praying very hard because as we are searching for hotels, driving around, he will ask- have room? have swimming pool?

We did some shopping and some eating and we had a blasting good time. We will be back Malacca!

满有能力！

Maoster: Let's play "I bury you into a tomb "game.

Daddy: Huh? Why?

Maoster: It's okay, just a game. Bury you in a tomb and cover you.

Daddy: I don't want!

Maoster: It's OKAY! JESUS DID IT ALSO! Really!!!!

Do we lead a life that is 满有能力? More often, I live my life fearing for so many things and I forgot my Jesus did it!

One of my favourite milestone- Maoster can bathe by himself rather well now!

Questioning God

Godma is interested to know how God is in the mind of the very young. So she asked Mao a few question.
Godma: Who is God?
Maoster: Jesus die on the cross for me and you. He is alive.
Godma: Is God nice?
Maoster: Yes.
Godma: So how do you talk to God? You pray?
Maoster: Yes. I pray, God gives me toys and books.
Godma rather happy with the answers and was thinking about what question when Maoster decided to do the questioning instead.
Maoster: Now, can I ask a question?
Maoster (eyes big big): Where did God have the money to buy toys and books?????
My boy can now join Godma in her theological discussion now. Yeah - he can replace me now!