Nintendo

Hubby and I love books and we spent quite sometime at Bras Basah that day. How on earth did we manage such a feat with two little kids in tow? Especially since Hubby-jr simply hates any kind of shopping.

He starts his chain of complaints the second I (or hubby) as much as glance at something. That never fails to drive me up the wall. So to avoid this we’ve resorted to:

a) NOT shop (I can’t avoid this ALL the time!)
b) Tell him to be quiet or else…
c) One of us brings him somewhere where he’ll be happy (i.e. toys section)… (but what if there is no “happy” section for him?)
d) Bring one of his toys along… (a toy car works but we’ve lost quite a few.)

THEN during our trip back to Malaysia we discovered a very effective on-the-go babysitter…

A little too effective?!

Yup, it’s the outdated Nintendo gameboy. We borrowed (permanently?) it from our sister-in-law (who has since upgraded to a PSP) as an “emergency weapon”. The emergency being our 5 year old going “out of control” restless on a 5-hour long bus ride back to Malaysia! Well the emergency never occurred (he was so well behaved) but hubby introduced it to him anyway.

Needless to say Hubby-jr took to it like fish to water. He is hooked.

Well it’s not too bad (yet?) as we’ve confined this activity to only weekends. He’s still attracted to other of his favourite activities even with the gameboy in hand. And who am to complain when it keeps him happy while we are happy shopping!

So is the Nintendo a friend or foe? A friend, I say (at least for now).

P/S: Hubby insists it helps with his hand eye coordination and helps him fit in socially… (yeeeah, oooookaay…)

Sometimes small and simple is good enough

1 Thomas & Friends Cake

2 Large Oishi Pizzas (and 12 yum-delicious chicken wings)

2 Close Friends (who’ve known each other since 4 months old) and their little siblings (that totals 5 children guests)

2 Mommy’s “motherhood” friends

That was what I whipped up in two days for my son, Hubby-jr, to celebrate his birthday. And that was all it took to make him a very happy boy.

My son is turning five tomorrow.

I was mulling for sometime in May as to what I should do for his birthday. Organising a birthday party on a weekend was one of the ideas I had. BUT when the holidays started (almost 2 weeks ago) I ditched the idea. You see, I was just plain too exhausted. It’s my first time winging a holiday with 2 kids without my parents (yup, they usually visit during the school hols). We (hubby and I) then decided to just bring him for a movie on his special day.

B-ut… then… just two days ago my friend asked if we’d be celebrating Hubby-jr’s birthday and that led me to ask my son what he wanted to do for his birthday. Would he prefer his friends coming over or going out to watch a movie? Without hesitation and with much excitement he chose the former. So I called his two “babyhood” friends’ mothers that evening. Next day I brought him to choose his cake. This morning I called for pizzas. And that was that, we had a mini birthday celebration.

It was great seeing him brimming with excitement in anticipation of his friends coming over for his birthday the last two days. To think he was once afraid of parties. He has really grown.

“Thank you mommy for preparing for my friends to come” he said after I spent some time in the morning getting the house and things in order.

“I really enjoyed my birthday (party) today,” smiling as he told his daddy over dinner.

And that was all it took for this mommy-fied woman to think and feel - it is all worth it. Being mommy-fied isn’t so bad after all. 

My Space

I never knew how precious this particular commodity is until I became mommyfied.

And I’m feeling so stripped of it now that it is the school holidays!!!

Help! I need space. S-P-A-C-E.

Oh yeah, I get “some”, here and there, but that’s NOT ENOUGH!

My dear speech delayed son has improved enough to want to chat incessantly. Yes I am thankful (thank you Lord) BUT… I need MY SPACE.

To curb cabin fever I’ve to schedule sporadic outings. Traveling and eating out with two young kids can be fun but unavoidably there are “those” times where it’s just nerve wrecking.  

On quieter non-outing days… yes, my two kids can and do play with each other so I don’t have to play with them… but after 15 minutes or so, one of them will come looking (or shouting) for me. They need mommy’s help or something or just my attention.

Little Missy naps for 2-3 hours (God bless her!) BUT almost 5 year old Hubby-jr may or may not. Thankfully I’ve trained him to stay in his room for an hour (if he can’t nap, he can read his books).

BUT people, that’s all I’m getting - ONE hour. Out of 11 hours (yes, hubby’s away daily for that many hours).

Can you now understand my dire need for space? Yes, S-P-A-C-E!!!

Just when will the d*mn holidays be over?!!

“I can do this. I can stay sane. I’ve survived a week already. Late next week we’ll be off to visit my parents in Malaysia. Hang in there mommyfied. It’s only a few days more…deep breaths. Take deep breaths. I can do this… I can…”

It’s Mine!

“It’s mine!”

That’s what I’ve been hearing a lot lately from both my kids. Yup, the usual siblings’ squabble.

It’s amazing isn’t it, how a (once upon a time, not too long ago, sorely neglected) toy’s appeal increases exponentially the very second one child picks it up and decides to play with it. Before you know it, the other child wants to play with it too. Yah, and just as suddenly, the toy that they were playing with earlier is no longer “current”.

The grass is just always greener on the other side.

Anyhoo, the tussle over toys isn’t new at all. It started way back. What’s new though is that now my son (almost 5, speech delay) can declare, “it’s mine!” (It used to be just, “No, Mei-Mei, No!”) And my two year old Little Missy can counter that with, “no, it’s mine!” (Hurray! Her speech development’s “normal”).

Of course the “it’s mine” goes back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…
Add this, “Mei-mei (sister), you play with this (another toy).”
And this “No!!” Scream!
Then back to, “it’s mine” banter.

It is quite a racket. It can and does drive me nuts. Yet at the same time…
It is so good to hear those two words come out of my son’s mouth (and my daughter’s).
It. Is. Good.

The Wonder of Aqua Doodle

I’ve lamented about Hubby-jr’s lack of interest in writing or even doodling (just about anything to do with having to manipulate a pen or pencil) last year in this previous post. Hence it didn’t quite help when his former class teacher told me at year (2007) end review that this year (at K1) the worksheets in class would increase significantly. She meant well and wanted us to see if we could encourage him in the writing department.

We tried during the year end break but without much success. It was always such a chore to him. So I didn’t push too hard. I didn’t want to kill the joy of writing altogether!

Thankfully since the start of the year, his present class teacher managed to persuade him to write! Hubby and I were so proud when we saw some of his work - he could write his name! (My poor son, Hubby and I picked a four syllable name for him. Yes, a LONG name for someone who doesn’t like to write.) And so we were content that he was writing albeit with much coaxing in school.

And then… one day a miracle happened.

I chanced upon this Aqua Doodle thingy at a toy store (Kiddy Palace) and bought it.

Lo and behold Hubby-jr took to it like fish to water. He just wrote and drew endlessly for a week! He practised his ABCs, 123s and even drew some stuff. It was amazing to watch. The fervour has since simmered down but occasionally he still writes and draws on it (voluntarily!)

Just what is it about the aqua doodle that could lure my son into writing/drawing mania??? Only the good Lord knows! But I’m mighty glad it did.

P/S: Aqua Doodle is a mat in which you can write with water and the writing disappears as soon as it dries. The set I bought comes with a sponge tip pen which you can fill with water.

What is a fulfilled life?

This song moved me to tears.

As a mother I want my children’s world to be perfect. If not, the closer to perfection the better. I realise in part this is because unconsciously I’ve been subscribing to some degree to the notion that a “successful” life is a “fulfilled” life. Yes I’ve unknowingly believed that if my children are successful in this world they’d be fulfilled. By success here I mean doing well in school, socially, etc.

It is not something I’m proud of as a Christian mom but the truth hit me recently.

Why else would I catch myself at times so saddened by my son’s speech delay? He’s otherwise a healthy, cheerful and well rounded boy. And what if he wasn’t?

“I’m just afraid he may have a hard time adjusting to school or society…” is the usual argument I give myself.

So what? I now realise that a fulfilled life has nothing to do with a “normal life” or a “successful life”. It has to do with how we feel about ourselves. Do we feel valued? Do we know we were intrinsicly made? Our Maker didn’t go “oops, oh dear…” We were beautifully crafted (blemish and all) for a purpose. Our lives are valued and meaningful.

Psalm 139: 13, 14

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

John 10:10

(Jesus said) I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.

With this wonderful renewed realisation, whatever unnecessary anxiety I had over my son has gone away. With faith he can lead a fulfilled life and that’s all that really matters.

P/S: This is the link to the song, God’s Will by Martina McBride. Click (More info) on the right hand side of the youtube page for the lyrics to the song.

What would you have done?

The other evening we had a poop accident. Little Missy did the deed in her pants. Yes, we are in the midst of potty training.  

Hubby had the honour of being the discover-ee. By that I mean he was the closest to our screaming daughter. (That’s what she does whenever she poops or pees in her pants). Incredulously the poop was contained within her pants. Dear ol’ hubby whisked her to the toilet took it off and cleaned her.

After the drama subsided (i.e. Little Missy stopped screaming), he looked at me and asked, “What should I do with this (the-pants-with-the-poop)? Should I just throw it away?” I took a peek and saw some ghastly sh*t. Without hesitation I replied, “Yup, just throw it away!”

And that’s what we did; we threw away a decent pair of shorts. The alternative was unimaginable.

But I could just imagine if my mom was here, she would have actually taken the trouble to clean and wash up the mess. And I swear I could hear her saying, “it’s a nice pair of shorts, why throw it away? Just clean it up, what’s the big deal?”

“Well mom, it’s just a pair of shorts. Throw lah. What’s the big deal?”

How about you? What would you have done?

Is Mommy Fun?

On a particularly cranky day of mine, after I went through an “overreacting, shouting and later apologising to my son” episode, I had this conversation with Hubby-jr just before his bedtime.

“Is mommy fun?”

Hubby-jr looks at me quizically and answers cautiously, “Yes…”

“Are you sure? Do you have fun with mommy?”

His eyes wonders around his room and spots some of the stuff he plays with me, “Yes!”

Was there a hesitation? Not quite satisfied with the answer and desperate for affirmation, I had to “verify” that my son knew what he was saying. (Ya, I know, I’m pathetic!)

So I asked, “Is mommy fun when mommy is angry?”

“No…o” Hubby-jr says grimly shaking his head.

“But mommy is fun when mommy’s not angry?” I probe AGAIN.

“YES!”

Phew! Just checking, just checking. I really don’t want to be a tyranical, “fear-the-very-ground-I-walk-on” mother. A fun…no, make that very fun, yet “the-one-who-must-be-obeyed” mother suits me just fine. *wink*

This Little Light of Mine

The chicken pox saga in our home is finally over. Phew! We could finally attend church together on Easter Sunday.

Just a quick recap, first Hubby-jr caught it. Two weeks later I caught it despite taking a vaccination jab. Three days later Little Missy was struck. It turned out to be quite an ordeal for Little Missy and me. Chicken pox hit us harder than it did my son as I was (ahem) too far from young and Little Missy on the other spectrum was too young. But in the midst of the ordeal, an unexpected beacon came from my son, Hubby-jr.

When I was stricken with chicken pox…

Hubby-jr: Mommy has chicken pox.

Me: Yes.

Hubby-jr: It’s ok mommy (gently stroking my chicken pox filled face). Mommy will get better. Jesus will heal mommy.

Me: Do you believe so?

Hubby-jr: Yes.

Me: Did you pray for mommy?

Hubby-jr: Yes. (And he decides to pray for me again) Jesus please heal mommy, amen.

Me: Thank you darling.

We had slight variations of this conversation over the next few days. And when my chicken pox starting subsiding, he exclaimed, “mommy is getting better!”

Then when we finally stepped out of the house as a family marking the end of mommy’s quarantine…

Hubby-jr: Mommy has no more chicken pox. Jesus healed mommy.

And without my prompting whatsoever he says, “Thank you Jesus for healing mommy, amen.” It almost brought tears to my eyes.

Me: Did you learn to pray like that in school?

Hubby-jr: No, not yet (he’s expecting them to?), not in school. From mommy.

Me: You learnt to pray from mommy?!

Hubby-jr: Yes!

That left me totally speechless but in an absolutely good way…
… (sorry, I can’t think of how to end this post, just thinking about it still leaves me speechless)…

More About Me…

I’m sort of a personality test junkie. I simply can’t resist participating in a personality test when presented with one. And even though I’ve done the MBTI test more than 3 times already, I’d still do ONE more when asked to. AND whaddaya know? Recently I completed another one (free mah). Someone stop me please!

But you know what? Each time I do these tests I learn a little something more about myself. Well actually… they just spell out some of what I already know intuitively. The tests also make me realise that not everyone is wired the same. So I should just “chill” about the differences, not compare and be more accepting of others and myself.

The last test I did was quite enlightening. It gave a really indepth description (it has been sometime since I’ve read a lengthy one). Most of it was spot on too. What struck me particularly was its description of my type, ENFP, as parents. Here’s just 3 paragraphs.

ENFPs as Parents
ENFPs take their parenting role very seriously, but are also very playful. There’s a bit of grown-up kid in every ENFP, so they get a lot of fun and enjoyment from playing with their children. However, they consider it essential to pass their strongly-held values and beliefs down to their children, and will strive consistently to create a positive, ideal environment for their children’s growth. (That’s largely why I chose to be a stay at home mom.)

The ENFP may exhibit an inconsistency in their roles with their children. At one moment, they might be their child’s best friend, laughing and whooping it up, and in the next moment they may appear the stern authoritarian. This inconsistency seems to be a result of a conflict between the ENFP’s genuine desire to relate to their children on the children’s level, and their compulsion to follow their deeply-felt value system.

The ENFP is able to take care of day-to-day necessities, such as picking children up at the correct times, getting them to softball practice, getting them fed, etc. However, it is a chore for the ENFP and is not a natural strength. The ENFP also has a difficult time disciplining their children, unless a very strongly-held value has been violated.

Disciplining my kids definitely takes a lot out of me emotionally. Each “time-out” drains me. When we got married I told hubby that he would have to be the disciplinarian while I’d the “good” parent. Unfortunately that didn’t quite pan out since I’m the one who is with them all the time. I’ve unexpectedly (I certainly didn’t expect it) become a strict mom. Sigh. Hey, but I am fun OKAY! 

And YES it is a major chore for me to take care of the day-to-day stuff. Definitely not a natural strength. In fact I asked my hubby, “you mean, there are people who find it natural and who actually enjoy doing such stuff?” Dear hubby answered, “apparently so.” I guess that’s what separates the Martha Stewarts from the non-Martha Stewarts.