Walking through the community centre (by the pond, with the swimming pool at ground floor) on our way to my in laws' place for dinner, Jethro asked me if he could throw the stuff in his hand into the water or not.
I was righteously shocked: "No, of course not! Throw it into the rubbish bin!"
He obediently went to throw the little something that he had held in his hand in a knotted fist into the bin.
Just at the moment, something clicked in place in my head. Jethro likes to pick up stones, sticks, dead leaves along the way. He seemed to lingering among the pebbled grass patches just now... Could it be...?
"Jethro, what's that you had in your hands?"
"Rocks," came the reply.
"Oh, and which water did you want to throw them into?"
"There," he pointed to the dirty pond.
I could only end this by laughing at myself.
Tuesday, 30 October 2012
Sunday, 26 August 2012
谁说的故事
那天听到爸爸跟靖恒靖恺说了“狐假虎威”的成语故事 （那两个瓜几乎心不在焉地也没认真听）。骤然，我想起了在苏格兰很出名的一本儿童读物：《The Gruffalo》。作者写的这个故事全然没有创新，分明就是在中国传了几百年（还是几千年？）的“狐假虎威”嘛！可是，她却能把它写成一本畅销的儿童故事书，甚至搬上了舞台。而我们的中华文化，那些精彩的寓言，典故，往往只用几个段落就讲玩了，像Aesop's Fables般，一点儿也吸引不住幼儿的耳朵。难道，我们就只能靠《西游记》了吗？
Saturday, 25 August 2012
Culimary Experiences Again
After a pleasurable experience baking bread last Saturday, I decided to try something similar again today. After all, at the very least I could use back the same recipe, which requires no kneading (yeah!) and is by far the most successful recipe for me, though it does use quite a lot of yeast.
I was reading a recipe book on using the oven for Asian cuisines and saw the recipe for making naan bread. Actually, I was looking among my soup recipes for some soup that would make use of leek (pureed into soup is about the only way I will ever eat this vegetable) and potato, apart from leek and potato soup, when I came across this Chicken and Almond soup that apparently goes well with naan bread. And it has leek in it, though no potatoes. The naan bread recipe looks easy enough too. So I thought, why not?
Unfortunately, this naan recipe requires kneading. Since it was not very specific on the kneading process (knead for about 10 minutes until the dough becomes smooth and elastic), and since I changed the recipe a little to include about 40% wholemeal flour (the recipe calls for 100% bread flour and I challenge you to find wholemeal bread flour at the supermarkets near you), I decided not to be stringent on the kneading. So, after Heidi went to sleep and Jianming took Ethan to his Sunday class and Jethro with him (turned out they would later go to the plaza to order a birthday cake for tomorrow), I quickly started measuring out and mixing the ingredients together. That was simple. Then the kneading. The author of the book had suggested kneading in the mixing bowl itself to reduce the mess. However, after a few strokes of doing just that, I found it awkward and tiring using only one hand. Perhaps the author had a really big and heavy bowl. For me, I still prefer kneading on the counter top. Even then, I had kneaded for 5 minutes and it already seemed like forever. 7 minutes, sweat started flowing down my forehead and the hem of my shorts actually felt damp. The dough did not seem to improve much. The only thing that kept me going was the knowledge from past experiences that the dough would yield. I had once kneaded for more that 20 minutes to get the 'windowpane' effect (in bread making terminology, when you take a small piece of the dough and stretch it very thin, till it becomes translucent and you can see light through it, if the dough does not tear at this point, you are done.). My arms ached for a few days afterwards. Well, this time I was only making a flat bread, and if it's not good, I suppose it would at least be crispy. Hence, I decided to knead for 15 minutes and stop. No windowpane, it would fail miserably.
15 minutes later, even though the dough was still a little sticky, I considered it's 'smooth and elastic' enough and left it to rise. The book says to rise till it's about 3 times its size. From my experience last Saturday, where the dough took half the time recommended by the recipe to rise, I had counted on a fast rise time this time. Alas, this time the yeast used was also much less, hence the rising was really agonizingly slow. Point to note: Never put the dough in a transparent dish again: you would only keep looking at it and wondering why it hadn't risen yet.
Nothing much to say for the rest, except that both Heidi and Jethro were awake and active by the time I started on the next stage and I became quite agitated with managing the sticky dough and the sticky hands. All those grand schemes of baking with kids - oh down the drain! Maybe when Heidi is older. Poor Jethro will have to wait because I can't possibly involve him and expect Heidi to be silent about that.
In the end, the naan bread turned out quite good as well! I wonder if it's anything to do with the new oven. The soup was also quite nice. I omitted the salt for convenience as I was also feeding Heidi with the same thing. It tasted a little like curry without the spiciness. Maybe it was the coriander. Maybe Thai green curry is green because of the coriander? I have never looked at the recipe for that because making curries is just not in the pipeline for now. The roast chicken was too salty but I would still say it was roasted just right - juicy and fragrant. Heidi had a pan-cooked chicken slice.
When I finally sat down to dinner with Heidi and Jethro (the older 2 guys being in church still), I wanted to cry as I first bit into the naan bread. I was so touched by the flour and the yeast and the milk etc. and the oven all working for me to produce such a wonderful, amazing food! And there's no one I could talk to about my feelings at the table. That's not to say the other 2 dining companions were not appreciative. Jethro said "Thank you. Thank you ah" a few times to me, and he ate very properly, not moving around much, consuming everything on the plate and the soup, including the salad. Consider his usual dinner behaviour and I should be gratified. Heidi is at her usual with bread. She couldn't gulp them down fast enough. At least my naan bread is a bread in the end! After my emotional reaction was over, the only thing I regretted was not serving them the salad first as the book about French parenting so wisely suggested. I realised that when I saw the two of them gorging on the bread. However, I need not have worried, they seemed to like the quickly-snapped together Japanese cucumber-tomatoes-extra virgin olive oil-lime-feta-avocado salad well enough to finish them without much prompting from me. (I had run out of lemon, hence the lime).
Will I try again? Seriously, usually by Saturday, I would be so worn out with cooking and the mere thought of cooking that I had no wish to whip up anything fanciful. Today's lunch was just porridge with cai xin and Toman fish thrown in and wok-heated egg tofu to give it some flavour. The dinner was not that fanciful really considering that my starting point was just to make a pureed soup so I could use the new hand-held blender we bought last Monday. Then I thought why not make my own bread since it was quite hassle-free and successful the other time? One thing led to another and of course a simple salad for the sake of vegetables is a must and we should have some meat...
On the topic of food, I was reminded of a newspaper article I read recently: a family of 7 (with one more coming in October) surviving on a take-home pay of $1800 per month. The breakdown of their monthly expenses showed that their grocery cost them $400. $400?! How did they manage that? I could not do that with my family of five, though I had hoped I could. But the reality of costs in supermarkets nowadays makes that an illusion. And I don't think wet markets sell things any cheaper. I know of course I still indulge in some luxury items despite the near 50% reduction in income. Yet I know not how I can compromise on these 'luxuries' - brown rice, wholemeal flour, wholemeal bread, the two most expensive brands of non-organic fresh milk, cheddar cheese, mozzarella cheese (and occasionally more exotic kinds of cheese when on offer), organic apples. I mix brown rice and white rice when I cook rice or porridge; I mix wholemeal flour with plain or bread flour when I bake; I can't bring myself to buy the cheaper white bread loaf though I would get bread from confectionery shops for their tea and it's hard to find wholemeal bread there really; I would have preferred to buy organic celery, organic spinach and organic strawberries as well since I read that these foods are more susceptible to pesticides, like apples are. But I could not find these in the supermarkets I frequent so my solution is to buy less of them. I do buy non-organic apples for myself and Jianming, when I can't get organic ones. I don't think I am extreme really, just trying to find a balance between going totally organic (which is very expensive and hard to achieve) and swallowing too much pesticides. I don't impose the same standards on my parents or parents-in-law when we have meals there. Just that, if Jianming's income were to ever reduce to $1800, and I couldn't go back to work while getting the kids into good child care centres, I might really collapse. So here's a food for thought.
 |
| Soft crust and soft inside with rather even holes, a pleasant surprise for me, who had baked so many disastrous breads before. |
Unfortunately, this naan recipe requires kneading. Since it was not very specific on the kneading process (knead for about 10 minutes until the dough becomes smooth and elastic), and since I changed the recipe a little to include about 40% wholemeal flour (the recipe calls for 100% bread flour and I challenge you to find wholemeal bread flour at the supermarkets near you), I decided not to be stringent on the kneading. So, after Heidi went to sleep and Jianming took Ethan to his Sunday class and Jethro with him (turned out they would later go to the plaza to order a birthday cake for tomorrow), I quickly started measuring out and mixing the ingredients together. That was simple. Then the kneading. The author of the book had suggested kneading in the mixing bowl itself to reduce the mess. However, after a few strokes of doing just that, I found it awkward and tiring using only one hand. Perhaps the author had a really big and heavy bowl. For me, I still prefer kneading on the counter top. Even then, I had kneaded for 5 minutes and it already seemed like forever. 7 minutes, sweat started flowing down my forehead and the hem of my shorts actually felt damp. The dough did not seem to improve much. The only thing that kept me going was the knowledge from past experiences that the dough would yield. I had once kneaded for more that 20 minutes to get the 'windowpane' effect (in bread making terminology, when you take a small piece of the dough and stretch it very thin, till it becomes translucent and you can see light through it, if the dough does not tear at this point, you are done.). My arms ached for a few days afterwards. Well, this time I was only making a flat bread, and if it's not good, I suppose it would at least be crispy. Hence, I decided to knead for 15 minutes and stop. No windowpane, it would fail miserably.
15 minutes later, even though the dough was still a little sticky, I considered it's 'smooth and elastic' enough and left it to rise. The book says to rise till it's about 3 times its size. From my experience last Saturday, where the dough took half the time recommended by the recipe to rise, I had counted on a fast rise time this time. Alas, this time the yeast used was also much less, hence the rising was really agonizingly slow. Point to note: Never put the dough in a transparent dish again: you would only keep looking at it and wondering why it hadn't risen yet.
Nothing much to say for the rest, except that both Heidi and Jethro were awake and active by the time I started on the next stage and I became quite agitated with managing the sticky dough and the sticky hands. All those grand schemes of baking with kids - oh down the drain! Maybe when Heidi is older. Poor Jethro will have to wait because I can't possibly involve him and expect Heidi to be silent about that.
In the end, the naan bread turned out quite good as well! I wonder if it's anything to do with the new oven. The soup was also quite nice. I omitted the salt for convenience as I was also feeding Heidi with the same thing. It tasted a little like curry without the spiciness. Maybe it was the coriander. Maybe Thai green curry is green because of the coriander? I have never looked at the recipe for that because making curries is just not in the pipeline for now. The roast chicken was too salty but I would still say it was roasted just right - juicy and fragrant. Heidi had a pan-cooked chicken slice.
 |
| Heidi, standing at her self-appointed place by the food, wanted to be in the picture. |
When I finally sat down to dinner with Heidi and Jethro (the older 2 guys being in church still), I wanted to cry as I first bit into the naan bread. I was so touched by the flour and the yeast and the milk etc. and the oven all working for me to produce such a wonderful, amazing food! And there's no one I could talk to about my feelings at the table. That's not to say the other 2 dining companions were not appreciative. Jethro said "Thank you. Thank you ah" a few times to me, and he ate very properly, not moving around much, consuming everything on the plate and the soup, including the salad. Consider his usual dinner behaviour and I should be gratified. Heidi is at her usual with bread. She couldn't gulp them down fast enough. At least my naan bread is a bread in the end! After my emotional reaction was over, the only thing I regretted was not serving them the salad first as the book about French parenting so wisely suggested. I realised that when I saw the two of them gorging on the bread. However, I need not have worried, they seemed to like the quickly-snapped together Japanese cucumber-tomatoes-extra virgin olive oil-lime-feta-avocado salad well enough to finish them without much prompting from me. (I had run out of lemon, hence the lime).
Will I try again? Seriously, usually by Saturday, I would be so worn out with cooking and the mere thought of cooking that I had no wish to whip up anything fanciful. Today's lunch was just porridge with cai xin and Toman fish thrown in and wok-heated egg tofu to give it some flavour. The dinner was not that fanciful really considering that my starting point was just to make a pureed soup so I could use the new hand-held blender we bought last Monday. Then I thought why not make my own bread since it was quite hassle-free and successful the other time? One thing led to another and of course a simple salad for the sake of vegetables is a must and we should have some meat...
On the topic of food, I was reminded of a newspaper article I read recently: a family of 7 (with one more coming in October) surviving on a take-home pay of $1800 per month. The breakdown of their monthly expenses showed that their grocery cost them $400. $400?! How did they manage that? I could not do that with my family of five, though I had hoped I could. But the reality of costs in supermarkets nowadays makes that an illusion. And I don't think wet markets sell things any cheaper. I know of course I still indulge in some luxury items despite the near 50% reduction in income. Yet I know not how I can compromise on these 'luxuries' - brown rice, wholemeal flour, wholemeal bread, the two most expensive brands of non-organic fresh milk, cheddar cheese, mozzarella cheese (and occasionally more exotic kinds of cheese when on offer), organic apples. I mix brown rice and white rice when I cook rice or porridge; I mix wholemeal flour with plain or bread flour when I bake; I can't bring myself to buy the cheaper white bread loaf though I would get bread from confectionery shops for their tea and it's hard to find wholemeal bread there really; I would have preferred to buy organic celery, organic spinach and organic strawberries as well since I read that these foods are more susceptible to pesticides, like apples are. But I could not find these in the supermarkets I frequent so my solution is to buy less of them. I do buy non-organic apples for myself and Jianming, when I can't get organic ones. I don't think I am extreme really, just trying to find a balance between going totally organic (which is very expensive and hard to achieve) and swallowing too much pesticides. I don't impose the same standards on my parents or parents-in-law when we have meals there. Just that, if Jianming's income were to ever reduce to $1800, and I couldn't go back to work while getting the kids into good child care centres, I might really collapse. So here's a food for thought.
Tuesday, 7 August 2012
The Colours of Parenting - Brown
I don't think I am cut out to be a full-time mother. But I reason it this way: Many people are not cut out to be parents yet they are. And once you have given birth to them, this is hardly a valid reason to use for not taking care of them full time if circumstances dictate and/or permit. Sure, I think the kids have got more knocks and hurts and probably loads more bad examples from an adult since I stopped working and stay home all day, most of the time. However, give me a chance, I am trying and I haven't really given up hope yet...
Still I think household chores always get at me more than the kids. Primarily because I see an end to the chores while I see no end to entertaining kids. Of course, you can put forward a valid argument: but there's no end to your household chores because you don't seem to stop! Until they are at school and one is having her nap and I can actually sit down and write this, that is. Yes, and yet, why do I still persist in doing it? Frankly the reason is that I am not clever and far-sighted enough. Or if I am, there is a sort of defeatist attitude in me that pushes me down the same road no matter how many turns are opened to me if only I make the effort to change direction. (Newton's second law in its full psychological manifest.)
So now I am reading Parenting books. Yes, I have read about 3 serious ones and another 3 or more on how to have fun with kids when they fuss. Yet, I haven't changed much. I think, for people like me, it's easier to learn from the books what NOT to do, and use all your elephantine efforts in refraining from doing them first. Than to put to practice what to do. That would be second, if it ever gets its turn.
So, I am trying to nag less, shout less, hit even less, lose my temper less. A small step at a time, since I am not made this way.
To nag less, they say there is a way to teach your children the self-discipline and responsibility needed. And that is not to be overprotective. Let natural consequences have their ways. So, I am hardening my heart even as I am trying to be a more caring parent too. Paradoxical? Who says parenting is easy?
Ok, more of this next time (maybe). Do share with me your thoughts too, fellow parents.
Still I think household chores always get at me more than the kids. Primarily because I see an end to the chores while I see no end to entertaining kids. Of course, you can put forward a valid argument: but there's no end to your household chores because you don't seem to stop! Until they are at school and one is having her nap and I can actually sit down and write this, that is. Yes, and yet, why do I still persist in doing it? Frankly the reason is that I am not clever and far-sighted enough. Or if I am, there is a sort of defeatist attitude in me that pushes me down the same road no matter how many turns are opened to me if only I make the effort to change direction. (Newton's second law in its full psychological manifest.)
So now I am reading Parenting books. Yes, I have read about 3 serious ones and another 3 or more on how to have fun with kids when they fuss. Yet, I haven't changed much. I think, for people like me, it's easier to learn from the books what NOT to do, and use all your elephantine efforts in refraining from doing them first. Than to put to practice what to do. That would be second, if it ever gets its turn.
So, I am trying to nag less, shout less, hit even less, lose my temper less. A small step at a time, since I am not made this way.
To nag less, they say there is a way to teach your children the self-discipline and responsibility needed. And that is not to be overprotective. Let natural consequences have their ways. So, I am hardening my heart even as I am trying to be a more caring parent too. Paradoxical? Who says parenting is easy?
Ok, more of this next time (maybe). Do share with me your thoughts too, fellow parents.
More Kiddy Talk
I mentioned about his talk about giving birth, well, here it is, one of the two snippets from Jethro:
#1:
Jethro wanted to watch Fireman Sam and was pestering Jianming about it.
JM: Sometimes watch sometimes don't watch (Fireman Sam).
Jethro: But I want to sometimes watch sometimes watch.
JM: Why do you like Fireman Sam?
Jethro: Because there's no fighting.
Hmm, Jethro, you sure knows what to say to please an adult's ears...
#2:
Over dinner one day:
Jethro: I kick your stomach because I want to come out. So you go hospital and the doctor cut open your buttocks (point to his)... (Me: "eeks, cut open!") ... No, no I just come out. Then the doctor gave me injection, put medicine and I cry and then I am better already. Then I grow grow grow... Ethan in Scotland. He was three years old. I grow same like Ethan, 3 years old (Me: you cannot be same age as Ethan). I was one year old. Ethan climb climb then fall down... Ethan went to see the shark. He was very scared and ran away. I also. I only a baby, you carry me. Heidi in your stomach. (Talking about the Sentosa trip in 2010?) Then Heidi also kicked your stomach and you very painful. Go hospital and the doctor take a stick and pull her out (attempts to demonstrate). Then she also put injection and medicine and cry cry cry...
Don't ask me how it got started.
#1:
Jethro wanted to watch Fireman Sam and was pestering Jianming about it.
JM: Sometimes watch sometimes don't watch (Fireman Sam).
Jethro: But I want to sometimes watch sometimes watch.
JM: Why do you like Fireman Sam?
Jethro: Because there's no fighting.
Hmm, Jethro, you sure knows what to say to please an adult's ears...
#2:
Over dinner one day:
Jethro: I kick your stomach because I want to come out. So you go hospital and the doctor cut open your buttocks (point to his)... (Me: "eeks, cut open!") ... No, no I just come out. Then the doctor gave me injection, put medicine and I cry and then I am better already. Then I grow grow grow... Ethan in Scotland. He was three years old. I grow same like Ethan, 3 years old (Me: you cannot be same age as Ethan). I was one year old. Ethan climb climb then fall down... Ethan went to see the shark. He was very scared and ran away. I also. I only a baby, you carry me. Heidi in your stomach. (Talking about the Sentosa trip in 2010?) Then Heidi also kicked your stomach and you very painful. Go hospital and the doctor take a stick and pull her out (attempts to demonstrate). Then she also put injection and medicine and cry cry cry...
Don't ask me how it got started.
Friday, 3 August 2012
Bones
We had just sent Ethan to school and were on our way to his nursery. A lady was pushing a dog in a pram. Jethro saw the dog and suddenly told me he's scared of the dog. Before I could register it and ask him why, he volunteered the reason: "Because of bones inside."
The humour of it was not lost upon me and instead of assuring him, I regret to say that I played along with it. (I did debate for a quick while internally whether I should assure him or not, but the hilarity of it all was too much to bear.)
Me: So you think the dog will bite you because of your bones inside?
Jethro: Yes lor, I got so many bones...
Me: How many?
Jethro: (Pointing at his left forehead, his frontal bone, his left forehead, his cheek, proceeding to his neck as he counted) One, two, three, four...
So on we went till about thirty-three, with my prompts at certain places like sixteen, twenty, thirty where he started losing count.
Me: We have more than one hundred bones in our body.
Jethro: I have one hundred bones (the "more than" being missed). I will lose a lot of blood and die.
Me: You will have one less bone.
Jethro: Why?
Me: Because the dog will bite one bone from you. Like, maybe your finger.
Jethro: My finger has many bones. I will lose a lot of blood...
Me: Remember we talked about the red blood cells making a net to stop the blood from flowing? Of course, maybe there is too much blood, so the red blood cells not enough, then must see a doctor.
Jethro: Yes, the red blood cells not enough. Doctor cannot see me, I must go and see him.
Then we talked about ambulance and then we sort of left it off somewhere as we drew near his school.
Jethro seemed quite fascinated about biology nowadays. There was a time when he talked to me about him inside my stomach and how he came out (over dinner). Parts of it were actually accurate. Anyway, that's for another time. He can talk non-stop at times and the words are too many to type now.
Thursday, 26 July 2012
What Children Say
I have always wanted to note this down, so today I am finally getting down to it. Here it is. for posterity, or at least, for Jethro...
From Heidi's diary:
The day I turned 17 months old, my brother chose to introduce me to society thus (read on and tell me if that is even fair):
There I was, sitting contentedly in the buggy. (I always quite like being pushed. Nowadays, when I can climb up to the buggy seat myself, I would do so instead of waiting for my mother, who's always busy with something else, to carry me onto it. At least, that never failed to get her attention, and she would come rushing to strap me in.) My mother, my second brother and I were waiting outside my brother's classroom for the door to open so that my mother could shove him in and take off with me. (Mother's note: I don't shove him in. I wait patiently outside for his temperature to be taken, his mouth and hands to be checked, and always say bye bye. Then I walk slowly away with Heidi. Naturally. Since I am still stuck with one child, there's no freedom to take off to.)
I was quite bored. Hasn't anyone noticed I turn 17 months old today? Then, out of somewhere, or nowhere, or wherever, came my brother, Jethro, running, with his friend, Ishan (or something). He stood beside my buggy (which used to be his, which used to be big brother Ethan's, which used to belong to someone who should be pretty old now in Edinburgh) and gleefully proclaimed: "Ishan, this is my sister..."
"Oh great!" I thought eagerly, "do tell him my name is Heidi, not Heydi, please. And that today I am 17 months old."
"...She has no penis." Thus ended his introduction. And Ishan chose to comment he had a sister too, but that's beside the point already.
Well, what does my mother do? In a pretend-scandalous voice, she feebly admonished, "Jethro!" and quickly looked around to see if anyone of a more delicate heart should hear my brother's words. And that's all she did.
Someone should seriously tell him that one should never need to put something so obvious and intimate as the human anatomy into one's introduction. If plain telling is ever going to work on him.
I can see my brother, the one whose name starts with 'J', the one who's always fighting with me over things and yet surprisingly caring sometimes, is going to be a challenge to manage.
From Heidi's diary:
The day I turned 17 months old, my brother chose to introduce me to society thus (read on and tell me if that is even fair):
There I was, sitting contentedly in the buggy. (I always quite like being pushed. Nowadays, when I can climb up to the buggy seat myself, I would do so instead of waiting for my mother, who's always busy with something else, to carry me onto it. At least, that never failed to get her attention, and she would come rushing to strap me in.) My mother, my second brother and I were waiting outside my brother's classroom for the door to open so that my mother could shove him in and take off with me. (Mother's note: I don't shove him in. I wait patiently outside for his temperature to be taken, his mouth and hands to be checked, and always say bye bye. Then I walk slowly away with Heidi. Naturally. Since I am still stuck with one child, there's no freedom to take off to.)
I was quite bored. Hasn't anyone noticed I turn 17 months old today? Then, out of somewhere, or nowhere, or wherever, came my brother, Jethro, running, with his friend, Ishan (or something). He stood beside my buggy (which used to be his, which used to be big brother Ethan's, which used to belong to someone who should be pretty old now in Edinburgh) and gleefully proclaimed: "Ishan, this is my sister..."
"Oh great!" I thought eagerly, "do tell him my name is Heidi, not Heydi, please. And that today I am 17 months old."
"...She has no penis." Thus ended his introduction. And Ishan chose to comment he had a sister too, but that's beside the point already.
Well, what does my mother do? In a pretend-scandalous voice, she feebly admonished, "Jethro!" and quickly looked around to see if anyone of a more delicate heart should hear my brother's words. And that's all she did.
Someone should seriously tell him that one should never need to put something so obvious and intimate as the human anatomy into one's introduction. If plain telling is ever going to work on him.
I can see my brother, the one whose name starts with 'J', the one who's always fighting with me over things and yet surprisingly caring sometimes, is going to be a challenge to manage.
Friday, 20 January 2012
Girly Heidi
Never thought that the characteristics of being a girl would show through so early and so tellingly at so young a age!
What set her apart from her brothers:
1. The first time I put socks on her, she refused to let me take them off, and that's even before she knew socks = going out.
2. She would go quiet and compliant when I do something to her hair - comb, put pins / hair bands on, put hats on. Except cutting it.
3. She pasted a sticker on her blouse. When I tore it off and gave it back to her a day later, she pasted it back to her blouse again.
4. She is generally more watchful and less rowdy (except when hungry or greedy) than her brothers.
What set her apart from her brothers:
1. The first time I put socks on her, she refused to let me take them off, and that's even before she knew socks = going out.
2. She would go quiet and compliant when I do something to her hair - comb, put pins / hair bands on, put hats on. Except cutting it.
3. She pasted a sticker on her blouse. When I tore it off and gave it back to her a day later, she pasted it back to her blouse again.
4. She is generally more watchful and less rowdy (except when hungry or greedy) than her brothers.
Wednesday, 11 January 2012
When They Are Amusing
Ethan
His first homework was to colour a thank-you note with a bear picture for his buddy in primary school. At night, he was already quite tired so I told him he could do it the next day. "And if you wake up earlier than us, you can always colour this in the morning," said I. "Of course I'll wake up earlier than you all." was his truer-than-truth, matter-of-fact-cum-a-little exasperated (at such lazy parents?) reply.
Jethro
Jethro's favourite songs these days are "造飞机" (with full body actions):
造飞机造飞机来到青草地.
蹲下来蹲下来我做推进器.
蹲下去蹲下去我做飞机翼.
弯着腰弯着腰飞机做的奇.
飞上去飞上去飞到白云里.
"小小兵" (started the day he got a gun key chain from Uncle Alvin):
小小兵,小小兵,我是小小兵,
年纪小胆量好,常常练兵操,
有敌人来犯我,向他开抢炮,
乒乒乒乓乓乓,乒乒乒乓乓乓,
向前冲,向前冲,敌人不放松,
哒哒哒地,地哒哒哒地哒哒.
嗒嗒嗒滴,滴嗒嗒嗒滴嗒嗒
and a new song that he seemed to learn from the child care centre. That morning, while saying bye-bye, he was quite teary and refused to let Jianming go. The same evening, when we went to my parent-in-laws' place for dinner, he kept singing this song over and over to us (an almost tune-less song that sounded like something the teacher improvised?) while doing some frilly hand actions (most likely improvised!):
我爱爸爸，我爱妈妈。
爸爸做工，妈妈上班。
哗啦啦啦啦，
哗啦啦啦啦，
哗啦啦啦啦，
哗啦啦啦啦啦。
Coupled with his unclear diction (the last was okay, since the wordings are very simple - further evidence that the teacher made it up!), it's hilarious.
Heidi
The teachers at the infant care centre told me Heidi would kiss you if you asked her to. Among the many "kiss kiss mommy" chants by me, there's just this once when it actually happened - she put her face near mine in a kissing pose. Oh, such small gesture, such great joy! But I must hasten to add that it has only happened once so far. Most of the time, she would turn her head away in a shy or quit-bothering-me! manner - I think it's more of the latter.
His first homework was to colour a thank-you note with a bear picture for his buddy in primary school. At night, he was already quite tired so I told him he could do it the next day. "And if you wake up earlier than us, you can always colour this in the morning," said I. "Of course I'll wake up earlier than you all." was his truer-than-truth, matter-of-fact-cum-a-little exasperated (at such lazy parents?) reply.
Jethro
Jethro's favourite songs these days are "造飞机" (with full body actions):
造飞机造飞机来到青草地.
蹲下来蹲下来我做推进器.
蹲下去蹲下去我做飞机翼.
弯着腰弯着腰飞机做的奇.
飞上去飞上去飞到白云里.
"小小兵" (started the day he got a gun key chain from Uncle Alvin):
小小兵,小小兵,我是小小兵,
年纪小胆量好,常常练兵操,
有敌人来犯我,向他开抢炮,
乒乒乒乓乓乓,乒乒乒乓乓乓,
向前冲,向前冲,敌人不放松,
哒哒哒地,地哒哒哒地哒哒.
嗒嗒嗒滴,滴嗒嗒嗒滴嗒嗒
and a new song that he seemed to learn from the child care centre. That morning, while saying bye-bye, he was quite teary and refused to let Jianming go. The same evening, when we went to my parent-in-laws' place for dinner, he kept singing this song over and over to us (an almost tune-less song that sounded like something the teacher improvised?) while doing some frilly hand actions (most likely improvised!):
我爱爸爸，我爱妈妈。
爸爸做工，妈妈上班。
哗啦啦啦啦，
哗啦啦啦啦，
哗啦啦啦啦，
哗啦啦啦啦啦。
Coupled with his unclear diction (the last was okay, since the wordings are very simple - further evidence that the teacher made it up!), it's hilarious.
Heidi
The teachers at the infant care centre told me Heidi would kiss you if you asked her to. Among the many "kiss kiss mommy" chants by me, there's just this once when it actually happened - she put her face near mine in a kissing pose. Oh, such small gesture, such great joy! But I must hasten to add that it has only happened once so far. Most of the time, she would turn her head away in a shy or quit-bothering-me! manner - I think it's more of the latter.
Thursday, 5 January 2012
The Toddler in You
That day, when you first stepped into your Primary School, your first day as a no-more-pre-school kid, I felt a rush of nostalgia. A few days before, I had seen you march around the flat like a soldier, putting your hand to your forehead and saying "Yes, Sir!". I was suddenly transported to the first few months in Scotland, when we played alot of marching up and down to the tune of "The Grand Old Duke of Yoke". There was a shadow of the toddling you in there. And I wished I had not been scolding you so much these past few months - on your attention span, on your whining, on your unwillingness to help out around the house, on your seeming callousness after you accidentally knocked your sister to the floor, on your dilly-dallying. Oh, on so many things we thought you should be outgrowing. But in actual fact, you are still a child.
Ethan, the days ahead may be exciting and a little overwhelming for you. You are likely going to face some set backs, and some wonderful adventures and discoveries too. I see your life as an individual person, being on your own, beginning. And I hope you'll look forward to the days ahead, to the opportunities abound for growth and learning and gaining more and more independence. As for me, I'm just going to miss those younger days more and more, the carefree and almost trouble-free childhood that you had, those long walks that we did together in Edinburgh, the long afternoon sun and hours spent on those activity books with a sleeping Jethro. Which you have forgotten, and I won't ever.
Ethan, the days ahead may be exciting and a little overwhelming for you. You are likely going to face some set backs, and some wonderful adventures and discoveries too. I see your life as an individual person, being on your own, beginning. And I hope you'll look forward to the days ahead, to the opportunities abound for growth and learning and gaining more and more independence. As for me, I'm just going to miss those younger days more and more, the carefree and almost trouble-free childhood that you had, those long walks that we did together in Edinburgh, the long afternoon sun and hours spent on those activity books with a sleeping Jethro. Which you have forgotten, and I won't ever.
Pink is the New Black
I am Heidi-ised when I actually bought a pair of pink slippers ... for myself.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)