Say .. what will he be

I confess.. I am a paparazzo to goolypop. Mamarazzo if you like. So, a lot of click click, snap snap actions where ever we go. Whatever he does, let it be chilling at the park or prancing his bollywood dance, Mahmee is there with her weapon of destruction a.k.a the camera. Let's just say he won't be that willing to be photographed once he gets the laughs everyone has whilst looking at his pictures. The thing with photographing kids is that they are oblivious to their surroundings, which makes all the photographs priceless.
Anyways, whenever I feel a bit 'exhibitionistic', I put his pics on Facebook. And we get nice comments from nice folks such as;

"Wah the next Federer .."


"Wah.. he has a future in baseball"


"Wah.. Michael Jackson's infamous crotch grabbing pose"

Ok, I was the one who made the last comment. But seriously, pictures are so darn tricky. Obviously no one knows the Federer in him made Mahmee ran all over the court picking up balls. And the swing he can swing well is at the park. He is yet to hit a homerun. The last one is actually a shot of him protecting his manly kingdom while guarding the goal post. He is so occupied with this act that the balls often find their ways to the forbidden square.

So the only conclusion I can make is he has innate posing skills. He observes what he watches and makes good impersonations of Federer, Tiger Woods and many others. So may we consider a modelling career for him? Not too far-fetched from the original sportsman dream, rite? :P

Tennis, shoes, sorbets..what else?

Yesterday was an eventful day, very unlike the other days where I just sit at home and rot and blog and rot again. We went to watch a tennis match in the morning. Nah, I don't play. I hate the sun, but Papah loves the mini skorts. Gooly just clapped when someone missed a shot. So he swayed from country to country, never stayed loyal to one. Not like his father who constantly supported the one with the shortest skirt and tannest skin.



Then we headed on to the Jatujak market, where the the centipede in me decided to grab some shoes. Very good bargains I got. I reckon all these add up to the price of a single miserable pair back home. They are mainly flats. I don't mind being short really, rather than kill my feet to appear 3 inches taller. Also, one must remain vigilant whist in the streets of Bangkok. Have you seen the soi bitches dogs around? Nah, they don't bother people that much. But it's a childhood fear of mine, and a horrifying presumption that strays chase the living daylights out of our kind.



So how many shoes do we all need? I really don't care as long as I get to extend my collection.

While at the market, Papah and I went separate ways. He can't stand looking at shoes and shoes and shoes, and I think fishes are the most boring thing to stare at. So when the time came, I needed to call him. You might be a little shock that I am the only breathing human who doesnt use a mobile. So I searched for a public phone. Heheh, they still have this old-fashion Graham Bell thing around. Please keep them for poor folks like me. Anyways, I didnt have any 'satangs' with me, and asked a young chap for some change.I handed him a twenty baht note, he gave me some coins. However he politely declined my note cos he didn't have the exact change. Aww.. how nice. Well, city folks usualy count to the very last cent, and tell you they have 18 baht instead of 20 baht, so nope, they can't give you the damn coins. This nice fella gave me about 10 baht while refusing my 20 baht. I was adamant that he kept my note though. Seriously, he was so skinny, I thought he could use the 20 baht for some snacks.

We ended the tiring day eating sorbets. Mine was dragon fruit flavoured. Yummy! Very refreshing and nice looking against my fuschia bag, eh? Ooo... let Sunday come again real quick! How was your weekend?

A little sad and a little glad

Oh,the moment I knew you grew
Was when teardrops fell just a few
Gory blood was insight today
I'm alright was all you did say

Oh, today you made me proud
Cos you offered, without a doubt
A squeezy seat in a crowded train
To me, whose heels were in great pain

Oh, how can I forget your sweet sweet smiles
When you say thank you mahmee
For carrying you for miles
You're welcome was responded by a charming kiss
I think I'm blessed to have a kid like this

Oh, I must remember to forget
That I remain a little sad
Of the fact you are now a boy
How silly to think you will forever be my toy

I mustn't forget to remember, oh gee
That I have begun to miss my little baby
I am a little confused maybe
Cos I also love the boy whom you've grown up to be

But stop growing once in a while
Cos the baby in you makes me smile
Stay 3 for a little while more
I do forsee my life will be a bore
Without your silly banters, sloppy kisses
Warmest hugs and childish giggles

Proud, sad, happy, glad
I think it's really not that bad
To feel all that in a day
Just don't you dare fly away
No, not today, not today..

C-box

I gave birth to a chatterbox. Even on his full month party, he was babbling away. A friend was actually puzzled that he made so much grunting noises. I thought all babies are like that, because the only one I had was noisy on the very first day he discovered what a larynx can do.

Now he wakes and sings on top of his lungs,the alphabet song, because he now knows the L,M,N,O,P part very well. He used to skip the 'M' and "N". Throughout the day, he'd have something to announce,complain, declare, inform or ask.

When his papah and I chat, he wants to be part of it. Being socially inept still, he'd go off the tangent and forget all about the crux of the discussion. I'd tell him not to interrupt, in which he obliges by turning away and mutters to himself. He is that desperate to talk. I assume he has an active mind, and needs to channel his thoughts verbally. Like many others, Mahmee does it too, through blogging. This fella's method is through noise pollution.

So after three years, I have designed my own formula of drowning out all the noises. Miraculously, my formula involves a complicated antenna system which detects important and significant words.

Actually, apart from the repetitive ABCDs, he almost always has something funny or interesting to say. He tells ridiculous stories about araipanas in the Amazon River, and makes up equally silly songs about soldiers losing their guns in a battle. He has endearing words too. Like this morning, when Papah went off to work, the silly goolypop announced, "But you forgot to kiss me bye bye."

I sprang out of bed (yeah, let the early birds get the yucky worms), and thank GOD for his verbal skills. And boy, am I glad for earplugs too.

Seeds of Hope

I do not have what they call 'green fingers'. Even the weeds wither and die in my garden. Very pathetic indeed. However, of late, the goolypop has started a new hobby of planting seeds, amongst many other things. Whenever a seed is in sight, he'd put it in his pocket for his evening projects. So we have long beans, apples, oranges, grapes seeds thrown all over the garden. I'm beginning to blame Jack and his stewpid Beanstalk. Initially, I tried explaining about tropical fruits and how apples and oranges don't grow in our blardy hot country.



"Oh don't worry, they can grow when it's not hot at night, " he suggested. Oh well, what's life without hopes? So I didn't deflate his souffle or burst his bubbles. Plant anything you want, boy. Your seeds of love warmth my heart. See how he shades his apple seeds in a miserable cup from the scorching sun? Never mind that the umbrella is transparent la..He was so cute. *grins* And I hate the idea of telling him about impossibilities when he hasn't even try it yet. And so he will get disappointed but he will also have a longer 'been there, done that' list than his friends. Don't worry, I have some jagung seeds as contingency should he feels like giving up his prospect career as a fruit orchard manager.

A friend actually says that apple trees will grow in countries like ours. Just that the trees won't bear any fruits. Any botanists/gardeners/orchard owners out there to help me with this? I'll not bother to transfer the seeds from the jelly cup to ground if it's just a myth.

The December that never came..

Somewhere out there, some t-shirts with the words "Saw it, liked it, told gramma and got it" are being sold. Cute..

Much to our chagrin, neither my gramma nor gooly's is as generous or charming(or likable :P). So our house doesn't seem like an annex to Toy r' us, like some lucky SOB folks' homes do.

The fact that gooly wakes and lives for toys makes us shudder whenever he starts his sentence with, "I want to buy..." In my twisted mind, I'd retort, "Yeah.. keep wanting cos we are not buying it." But of course what comes out from my mouth will be, "We'll have a look and see if it's too expensive". Hooo... it usually is.. these good-for-nothing-battery-operated junks toys. But I just don't want to say NO all the time. Even I get bored saying the NO. So usually we'll check out the stuff he wants, and lament, "Wow! So expensive" with an ultra exaggerated horror look on my face. I am lucky that he doesn't roll on the floor and demands for it, because he knows our last name is not Grills, Doors, or GATES.

To spice things up a little, I have made a Christmas cum Birthday wish list for him. It is becoming longer and longer until we can roll up the parchment now. Of course he doesn't know I call it the impossible wish list. So now, he wakes with a hopeful, "Is it December yet?" Kid, you think I'd tell you when it is Christmas ah? Not until you can read yourself.. Nyek nyek nyek...

!

We have been playing with the dusty PS2 these days. Lots of wrestling and nascar actions. Gooly watches while Mahmee flips, speeds and kicks Papah's ass. Heheh! So everday day, his form of greeting as soon as Papah steps into the house is, "Come on, Papah, let's play games." He prefers the WWF and Ultraman but Mahmee gets sore thumb from turning the knob to give the ultra scissor-leg kick.

Hence, we'll play Nascar before the sore thumb experiences permanent paralysis. Just like any kind of racing game, it begins with a countdown of 3, 2, 1, GO! Gooly shouts along to jest up the already havoc situation.

Then he exclaimed, "The 'i' is upside down, Mahmee." Ah.. the exclamation mark, he has discovered. So I told him in slo mo, "Eks-ka-may-syen mark". "Eshehmeshen?" he tried. And when he says it real fast, his mouth is darn cute, because the lips get twisted and balled up in an adorable pout. So I dont bother correcting him. :)

"3, 2, 1, Go, eshehmashen mark!"

Morbid tales

I'm gonna treat this as a confession booth for today. I confess, I'm obsessed with death. Oh not mine of course. Noh, noh, noh, noh... I dont mind if I were to die first. But for the note, I love the song, "I see you when you get there, see you when you get there.." It's gonna be my funeral song. A little P.Diddy action there. Oh,and I do believe the spirit hanging around for a while before taking the lift up, so yeah.. I will be at my 'partay', listening to all the requiems and eulogies.

Anyways, about this fear of other people dying, I have prepped myself a lot more than other people would. I choose movies which has morbid endings, where everybody dies or at least someone dies. Hence, when somebody tells me, "You should watch this. It's really good." On top of my checklist would be,"Did anybody die in that movie?" I usually get a blank look, or worse, a you-are-weird look. Needless to say, Titanic is my favorite.So while everyone walked out of the theater cussing the director/producer for such a lousy ending, I applauded. And I watched it again. This time armed with a box Kleenex, alone cos nobody likes sad movies, remember? Sissys!

What are the other morbid, good for crying and dying movies? Let's see.. Moulin Rouge, a tv drama about a boy who died of AIDS (long long time ago, the grandpa handcrafted his coffin, sob sob), Philadephia, My Girl (someone died of bee stings), City of Angels...

There are books I like too; Randy Pausch's "The Last Lecture", Harry Potter (when Dumbledore died), The Life of Alex (she died at 8), Five People You Meet in Heaven, Tuesdays with Morrie...

When it comes to the part where someone kicks the bucket, I'd often wondered, which way will I react? Scream disbelievingly or sob silently? Chest pounding wails(for Chinese dramas la)or fainting action? And what happens after? Days/weeks in bed? Zombies look-alike? Sigh.. morbid morbid indeed.

Say, is the way I am dealing with inevitable but not-happening-yet deaths of loved ones futile? Cos, my world is still gonna collapse when it happens no matter how much I watch/read about people's deaths right? But still, do you know any books/movies you hate but think I will love? Yeah yeah.. for sadistic me.

G'nite.

I love you 100%. Every night. Before he goes to sleep. After endless requests of books. In which he affectionately kisses and replies, I love you too, Mahmee. 200%. This is not the time to impart any mathematical skill, do you not agree? :) How do you say good night to the little angels at home?

An apologetic he

Please
Thank you
Excuse me
Sorry
It's ok

My ultimate vocabulary list for goolypop. Though when he was younger, he would say 'piss', 'q', 'ass-Q me', 'sowry' and 'is k' which was awfully cute. Since we stay in Bangkok, the 'wai' is done as frequently as one would do the 'handshake' or 'high5' in other parts of the world. Albeit he has not perfected the action (he smells his clasped hands, instead of just letting them touch the tip of the nose), it is still a pleasant mannerism. Also when he was shorter, he often went unnoticed in a sea of people. Thus, 'ass-Q me' was uttered very frequently. People would turn around and pleasantly find a little fella fumbling his way around.

Cuteness aside, lately I have wondered if he knew the meaning of the word 'sorry'. He sorta has become attached to the word. 'Sorry' when he dropped bread crumbs on the floor. 'Sorry' when he spill his milk. 'Sorry' when he stained his shirt. Initially I was pleased. But 'sorry that it is raining' came. Huh? Since when he was in charge of the weather and hence has to apologise for lousy ones? Sniff sniff..a little self-blame was detected, perhaps? Aiseh,he can't be apologising for things which are not his fault.

Just this morning, I had cooked my 'bee hoon' a tad too soggy, in which I complained a little louder than I should. "I'm sorry, mahmee," he apologised. Ok, a good time to launch my "it's not your fault" yada yada speech. He was quiet for a while as though digesting the whole idea of "you mean I have been apologising all this while for nothing?"

I proceeded to munch down my yucky bee hoon while congratulated myself for yet another confusing day for my son. You know, a little inner voice whispering, "oh great" sarcastically. But I was more confused than him for he came over and kissed me and said, "But I just want to make you feel better."

Ha! So.. he was sorry because he was sympathetic about my lousy meal. He wasn't blaming himself or anything as silly. I suppose it was the same on that rainy day. He was sorry that all the children couldn't play in the park, including himself. Therefore, I learnt to find the deeper meaning of my child's words today. And how did he learn the other meaning of 'sorry', I have no clue. Perhaps when I said, "I'm sorry you hurt your knee?", without realizing or intentionally instilling compassionate behavior. In fact, I have on few occasions sarcastically thrown in the remark of "I'm sorry but you are still eating the chicken you hate." Anyhow, it felt weird when sympathy/empathy was thrown back at me.

Yes, little children empathise and sympathise. The next time I hurt my pinkie, I will have somebody to fuss over my pain. Yeah!

I'll let you know when he starts getting sorry about having to put me in old folks homes/asylum.

To guard with love

The tap at the my garden burst this morning. Aiyayayayaya... the water was gushing out. Goolypop was gleeful of the new fountain. He rushed to put on his Pua Chu Kang 'yerrow kaler' boots. Not bad eh? It was as thought we fore casted a moment like this. Splish splash splosh. Yes, Boy.. go ahead and have fun. Leave the head/chin scratching action to Mahmee.

Instinctively, I put a bucket under the tap.Heheh.. like it would be of any help cos it got filled up in 10 seconds.Very duh indeed. More scratches on the head, chin and armpit cos it was getting hot. Meanwhile, the little PCK was probably crossing his fingers, toes and EYES that the fountain was here to stay.

So who came to the rescue? My kind neighbour. Yup, the same one who wonders why I hang out loads of undies on a wet morning. She summoned the old-wrinkly guard at the mooban for a quick consultation. A few kap and kaa later, the man went on the bicycle and came back with a new tap. I've never been so thankful for the invention of bicycles before :p. And of cos to the nice, kind old lady.

Whist he was fixing it, I contemplated how much to tip him. I really wanted to be generous but with the 'talk-until-bored' petrol price, I was in doubt. Finally, I thought, what the heck, how often do I have pleasant encounters with kind strangers? How often do people actually care enough to go all the way out under the hot sun peddling a rusty bicycle to get a tap for an unattractive mum in pyjamas at 11.00am? I am very grateful.

Thus, I am skipping Swensen this week. And in return, my hero guard gets a better meal. When he received what we perceived as a meager sum of 100baht (approx Rm10), he clasped his hand together and gave a slight bow. I reciprocated.

And I also made a silent solemn vow to be more patient with my neighbour when she next launches her soliloquy in Thai.

Unorthodox methods of learning

Whatever I have done in helping Gooly to learn would make my MIL grit her teeth. Let's see, we don't use flash cards. We don't have the 'proper' classroom setting with chalks, tables, chairs and CANE. I teach and he learns whenever we feel like it. This is the house of loons, one must remember. Things are run rather differently.

Thus, Gooly didn't learn his alphabet alphabetically such as A, then B, then C and so on. I suppose by letter D, I'd be asleep and he'd be ransacking the fridge for goodies. He actually learnt a letter as and when we see something that resembles the letter. The first letter he recognised was S, thanks to the S hook I used to hang the napkin. And then we progressed to K, F, C. The big 'M' logo for McDonald was helpful too. And voila, by age 2, he was a pro in alphabeting.

By age 3, we were bored and decided to learn the world flags. Of course, I'd forget the moment we walked away from the poster. But kids have the memory the size of Africa. And so he recognises about 40 world flags. We added fun little facts to each flag we learn, i.e Vatican City is the smallest country and silly ones like Turkey is a yummy country. To help him remember the details of the flag, we'd make up stories.


For Cook Island, we'd pretend cooking the island on the 'stove' of stars.

We'd also imagine the Chile people eating chillies (red), with rice (white) with a glass of water (blue) under the star (also shown above). Why the heck did we learn the flags? Wellllll, since when we need a reason to learn anything? So while the other children are learning to read and write, my son is recognising flags and cleverly apply his knowledge when we are at the fruit/sausage sections at the supermarket. "Look Mahmah, the apples are from Australia" or "Pizza from Italy".

I can't wait till Olympic. We'll have loads of fun watching the champion flags raised. Oh yes, yes, he does recognise Jalur Gemilang. That is gotta be the most crucial flag to learn, eh?

He also has a great amount of knowledge on Science which sounds like gibberish to certain adults. Consider this conversation the other day:

Adult: How come your balloon can fly one?
Gooly: It is floating (not flying :P )because it has helium inside.
Adult: Where got heling? Got gas inside. You simply tok.
Gooly: Helium! Got helium..

Luckily he doesn't get disheartened easily because I didn't want to embarrass the 'adult' by correcting her while informing her that a 3 year old knows more than her.

And I suppose I dont really care if he mispronounced certain words, i.e baiculer (binocular)or tescop (telescope). I am just proud that he knows the difference. As they say, never mind the 'form', it will come later.

However, MIL does balk at his pronunciation, stressing on the missing syllabus. In fact, she thinks we are rather undisciplined. Yes, I suppose we are but what the heck, he's learning, isn't he? Sue me for my unorthodox ways.

Hmm..I wonder if I will be as unconventional when it comes to educating about the birds and the bees? I suppose the MOST original/unorthodox method will be a LIVE show, right? Chill, chill.. it's a joke. I may be 'different' but not crazy, k? :D

Gotong Royong

At our mooban, we have a small park with a simple but nice landscape. A couple of months back, I saw an old lady crouching sneakily behind a tree. At closer inspection, I found out that she was digging some plants out (and also she didn't look that sneaky).

Automatically I thought ,"Hmm.. this auntie stealing plant. Aiya, should have thought of that before I went to buy my own pots of flowers." Gooly and I loitered a while more as the sun was kind on that morning. And I watched the old lady sweat away while Gooly got busy with the park equipments.

Oh crap! Shame on me! She was not stealing, she was helping to replant the plants at the park. Now I surely have not seen anything like that back home in KL. We'd leave the job to the management, DBKL, MPPJ, MPSJ etc. Never mind that we expect them to do the job, we'd pull the plant out when we think no one is looking and plant it in our home. (Ok ok, I'd do that, not we.)

When the landscape deteriorate as plants wither or miraculously become lesser in quantity (ahem ahem!), the first thing we do is to complain, "Those lousy buggers. So ugly the park. When are THEY gonna do something about the them la?". Now why don't we take matters into our own hands like this old lady? Don't like the way it looks? Change it ourselves. After all, we are the one staying and enjoying the park should it be clean and nice.

I remember the only time I was involved in a gotong royong project was whilst in school. And this kinda project usually was well-planned, weeks in advance allowing students like me to come up with an excuse not to show up on the particular day. Things are quite contrary here.For the past weeks, a part of the park has been unearthed for a basketball court. Today the old lady has recruited a few more grandmas on a very impromptu and spontaneous project. They scooped the earthen soil into wheel barrows and proceeded to pour them out onto the trees around the area. Nope, they didn't transport them back to their home for their own use, like a KL city folk would.

Ahh... tomorrow I will go help water the plants. I hereby also solemnly vow to stop thinking about perfecting my initial evil plan which involves late nights and missing plants. :)

Never too old to learn and unlearn, eh?

Mothers and other mothers

Mothers need two kinds of mother friends:
a) mrs know it all
b) mrs i really dont care

We ask questions with friends type (A). Questions like how to potty train and then later, how to potty train the mouth :P. (A) would have all the answers at the back of her hand. Occasionally she will tell you that she has forgotten when the third molar would normally appear, but she would be glad to go home and check on the progress book, and let you know in a jiffy. And she will call you to let you know that her baby's molar was insight at 12 months and 24 days. And she will have a story to tell on how they noticed the darn tooth.In other words, type (A) is just like your mother, whose advice is a bit outdated and thus not sought by you anymore. But (A) is just as enthusiastic, giving out information as though she is the information counter. Very helpful but a bit stressful to hang around with. "He is still drinking from his bottle? You should start training him with the cup already." Woah... too much advice here. Shoo shoo..

With (B).. its a whole different story. She is the one teaching you to inhale and exhale. Relax, your kid will not grow up to be an obese just because he chowed down the packet of potato chips, she tells you. You even eye-witnessed her kids drinking coke early in the morning, with ice. And you see the kids are as normal as can be. So she lets you believe that motherhood isn't that hard, and that you are doing ok, and your kid is gonna turn out alright.

Now what mothers don't need:
a. mothers who insist their own kids are the cutest, smartest, tallest and other -est
b. mothers who give uncalled for advice i.e shouldn't you bring him to the psychiatrist?
c. mothers (yours and in laws)who force you be a full time mum/part-time mum/career mum against YOUR OWN WILL
d. mothers who tell you what NOT to do ie. dont cuss infront of your kids, don't smoke infront of the kids, etc. (it's not their business to mind the matter)

The best kind of mother friend any mothers will be glad to have will have these characteristics; sense of humour,understanding, wise, listener, not judgemental,a story exchanger and not a story competitor. Anyone out there who has these qualities? Please contact me :D

A-Z words of encouragement

In a day, I would have to high-five or say 'wow' about a gazillion times. How can I not do so when I watch him draw with earnest attention (tongue sticking out at the corner of his mouth kind of concentration). It will be something that resembles some cerebral parts which turns out to be a car with 3 wheels actually. But way to go, son. And there will be several attempts to sommersault which always start with, "Mamah, look, watch me, Mamah!"

Sometimes he doesn't try hard enough ie. when he refused to try eating the peas. After much cajoling, he'd take a bite and immediately declare that he WILL NOT like it forever.I'd still say, 'thanks for trying" not sarcastically, but really, at least he tried.

There are many kind words to a child. I don't fathom how one can make a child walk away feeling defeated or the spirit dampened. There are so many encouraging words. Look:
A- awesome
B- brilliant, bravo
C- cool, clever boi/gurl
D- do it again!doesn't matter (that your friend could jump higher)
E- excellent
F- fuyoh, fulamak, fine
G- great, good job, gau gau
H- how did you think of that?, high-five! (corny as it may be), hoe yeh
I- interesting, I like it
J- jolly good
k- kind of you to do that, kick ass (when older :P )
L- look at you!
M- marvelous
N- neat, nice
O- oh wow, one more!
P- perfect, proud of you, powerful, panai
Q- (help me with this one)
R- really _______ (fill in blank)
S- superb, special
T- thanks for trying, terrific, two thumbs up, try again
U- unique
V- very _________
W- wahlau, wow, wuah, way to go
X- extremely ______
Y- you are _____, YEAH! yahoo! You made it!
Z- zazing! (I made that up, like zazing!yummy :D )

Yes, there are loads of words to use. Why stick to one, which will be so boring for you and even the kid. Go ahead. Cheer them on with more words. We mothers are supposed to be the GREATEST cheerleaders afterall. Gotta get one of those pompoms. :D Not so sure about the outfit, though.. :P

The cheapest thrill

There are lots of aspects that we need to cover in bringing up a child. Manners, confidence, happiness, education.. the list just goes on. And all these aspects can be boosted or equally dampened by the environment that one lives in.

Living in Bangkok has not been an easy choice. For one, the language will always be a problem for Gooly. And this language barrier has caused him a great deal of fun at the park. The kids in the neighbourhood are generally well mannered, but they speak very little, if not, no English. Thus Gooly has resorted to playing on his own or with his too-lazy-to-run-in-circles mahmee.

Sometimes when games which need not any verbal skills are played (i.e running around a dusty car 100 times or till someone passed out :P)Gooly would join in.

I always enjoy watching him play with other children. Let it be in a group or a duo, you can see the beam on his face. Today, the beam was on mine. We sighted a group of kids ranging from 6 yrs old to 12, perhaps? They cycled passed while Gooly was sitting on his own bicycle watching the bird/papaya tree. And one of them asked, "Are you ready?" That was the first time ever I heard a full sentence being uttered by any of these fellas during my tenure of over two years here. He must have learnt it from Gooly :D.

Anyways, Gooly's face lit up and he nodded solemnly and proceeded by 'revving' his bike. And off they went. It was a picturesque moment. A backview of my child throwing his head backwards laughing with a gang of young cyclists. Never mind that he was the youngest and the only one with the 'cool' Ultraman with training wheels bicycle complete with a front basket and the loudest bell. (Cool only to his definition :P )

I stayed away because it will be so uncool, no? But I ran back home and got Papah to witness the moment too. He was less cool about letting his goolypop roaming solo without shadow-mum. So I stayed at one end of the lane and he watched from the other end. Though a distance away, we could still see each other's grin (as wide as a sliced watermelon).

When excursion was all done for, goolypop returned with an equally wide grin, the rosiest cheeks and sweat-soaked shirt.

"That was fun," he said.

Oh well, it was for us too. :)

I think he is creative

Gooly has started writing his ABCs. They are pretty neat. And that means we have more activities to do during the day time. Making good progress with his motor skills, he started colouring pictures with precision, no more conteng conteng. But the tree isn't always green, and the ducks aren't yellow either. It's ok. I like the different shades of colours of trees and blue ducks make me smile. In fact they can be any colours he wants them to be. We have tons of crayons and he should make use all of them.

Today we did a bit more, those workbooks with instructions to follow. One page says to circle things that make sounds. It was a picture of a boy at the park. Gooly studied the picture for a while, and wondered aloud, "How could the mummy left the boy alone at the park?"

Oh well, I'd cheated by saying the mummy is just at the corner at the page, but we couldn't see her. But don't worry, she is there. A wave of relief crossed his face. And he started circling the airplane, the ducks, the radio and the trees. But wait, trees don't make sounds, I told him.

"The wind is blowing and the leaves are rustling," he explained.

How about that? There and then, I knew we are going to be in trouble in schools. Will the teachers be as creative and actually allow creativity in class? One thing for sure, if the teacher said my son is wrong for his original ideas, I'd make sure to correct her/him, and I'd be prepared to change schools for all that matters.

My son is creative, accept THAT!

Post sleep solo

So now he sleeps in his room but often tries his luck to camp in our room. Further intervention is needed. Yesterday I explained to him about growing up and independence and bla bla bla, which went something along the line of "It's part of growing up."

And he retorted, "But I am growing down."

"You mean like you are growing back to be a baby? It doesn't work that way. We grow up, we don't grow down." I challenged.

He pondered a while and shot back, "But I ate very little for dinner, so I am not growing up. I am growing down."

-_- Well, at least he is applying his knowledge of opposites. I should just bear and grin.