Terrible 10?

Dear Tom Kurus,

Lolly usually hits the sack between 8pm and 9pm. It's a good 11 hours sleep for her with 1 or 2 feedings in between. Ergo she wakes at around 7.30? Gawd! So early! My eyes are still shut and my mood, fouled, of course. Every. Freaky. Morning.

She takes her morning nap reluctantly - sometimes for a full hour or 20 minutes, depending. It can be anytime between 10am - 12pm. So i cant do breakfast with you, sorry. And i cant do lunch either cos she gets cranky again, say by 2pm cos...i dont know, shes hungry? Shes sleepy? Shes moody? When she is finally taking her nap, you'd say, who the heck eats at 3pm?

Id love to have dinner with you but i cant cos she is tired by 7pm (the universal dinner time!!!). And then she would wanna sleep at 8pm but refuses to, just for the heck of it.

And i cant go supper with you either, just in case she wakes and there is no one in the room, you know. It will freak her out completely.

What about anytime between her naps? Gee i dont know..its a lot of work to pack and unpack her paraphenelia - milk, diapers, hot water, cold water, wipes, toys, snacks, sweater, singlet, socks, bibs, etc. and she absolutely abhors car rides. Shes ok if you let her hold the wheel but Britney got into trouble doing that. Bummer! Or we could leave her at the foot seat where she can pick up sand and pebbles to chew on. It would really make her day if she finds pieces of papers. Nom nom nom! Paper nutrients!

A stroll at the park? I dunno...she doesnt like her Graco, Aprica and latest Maclaren. Do you have a Stokke or Quinny which we can try out?

So Tom, sorry..you will have to find another date. Or you can wait till Lolly doesnt need that many naps or is more stable (emotionally, mentally? Schedully?)

If we are lucky, we are talking about another 1000 days wait? Maybe? Hopefully?

P/s: there are days where she is exceptionally good... So i dont know if its just an excuse to be a social hermit or I am not a risk taker (yeah, its a lot of risks bringing a bawling baby out).

Party in the car!

Today we -mom and I, out of boredom decided to take Lolly for a spin. First we had to pick Harry Potter,my loud-speaker nephew up from the nanny's. And then travelled forth to school to pick gooly up.

Five minutes before the school bell rang, Missy decided that she didn't like to be stuck in the car. Thus she cried. She cried and cried and cried.

And cried some more.

So I rushed down and hurried gooly with a very serious, "Quick, mei mei is in the car -CRYING!"

Sensing the urgency, he sped up.

Upon entering the car, we discovered that Lolly was still in a bawling mood. My mom has turned on her grand-motherly mode, trying to calm her down with an equally high decible chanting of " ola ola....sayang sayang...."

Meanwhile Harry Potter was re-enacting a Tom and Jerry dialogue (which we have heard a million times) on top of his lungs, totally oblivious about the crying baby.

So there.. We had a cacophony of sounds in a confined area.

"Waaaaaaaaah........ola ola sayang sayang.....and then Tom bang his head and Waaaaaaaaah.......ola ola sayang...."

Wooooooah.....what a party.

I contributed some noise too, of course - "Harry! Be quiet!!"

Now if you haven't noticed, the only person who was calm and collected was Gooly. At one point, he soothingly said, "Mei Mei, are you tired? It's ok. We are reaching soon. Then you can sleep in your sarong ok. Don't worry...."

I was palpitating at first. His calming words brought peace to my mind.

When the saga was over, he confided that he was hoping for an after school ice cream, but too bad his lil sis was in a cranky mood. "It's ok. We can have one next time when she's not crying," he added.

Wow! Everyday I thank God for such a darling in my life.

Otherwise can you imagine?

"Waaaahhhhh... Ola ola sayang.....Tom hit Jerry..bang....weeeeeek.....ola ola...."

AND....

"Mom, can I have an ice cream?"

Gah! I would have crashed the car into the longkang, I tell you!

Post Bath

When Gooly was a baby, bath time was often filled with bubbles. Pop pop pop!

When he was a little older, he'd bring in loads of toys. "Is this made of wood? Does this work on baderies (batteries)?", he would ask.

Now he asks for his clothes. To be washed in the toilet. Without fail...you will find heaps of wet clothings in the basin or on the floor after he finished his water spree.

And I'd wipe him dry in a towel. I rub his head as he charges his bull-head towards me. It's a struggle, I tell ya.

And I'd say, "Lift your armpits up!"

And he'd say,"No! I want my armpits wet!"

And I'd say, "Turn around!"

And he'd say,"No! I don't want to turn around!"

It's a struggle, I tell ya.

Between wanting to piak his buttock and leaving him wet and cold, a smile, however always manages to creep in.

It's a struggle, I tell ya. Frowning and smiling at the same time.

Finally, when I tell him to get dressed, yup..you guess it. The reply is, "No, I want to be naked!" And he gives the silliest shriek and runs around the room Tarzan style, flapping his arms around, kinda like a chicken.

Everyday.

At 11.30am, he performs his post-bath ritual.

It's a struggle, I tell ya! (But I am smiling.. )

Hamsap?

The other day, somebody told me:

Ploy was kissed by a boy in school!!! Two times!!!

So my face was kinda stoned. I think it has a little expression of, "SO? What's the problem?" too. But sensing the response will be considered socially inept, I quickly re-arrange my face muscles and wrecked my brain for a better reply. You see the extra exclamation marks? They make her speech sounded really urgent and full of apprehension. Her face made obvious hints that read, "WHAT A CRIME!"

So with my Oscar winning acting skill, I said, "OMG!!!! Where? On the cheeks or on the mouth???"

Ok, that was so wrong too. Cos she looked at me with a DURH face. But she was still eager to share the remaining story.

"It was the face! The mom told the boy, if you do it again, the police man will come catch you!"

Waaaaaaahhhhhh. I started sweating profusely cos Gooly has the tendency to do that!! Imagine landing your arse in the prison at age 5 for kissing a girl on the cheek (not even the butt cheek wei!).

Ok, so I dunno. We have to take into consideration :
a. the Thai culture factor
b. the geographical factor
c. the socio-economy factor
d. the environmental factor
e. the menstruation factor
f. the X factor

...Any of the above could have triggered such a response from the victim's mom.

Urhm... what would you have done? If your girl is being kissed, or your boy is the kisser? Their age category is... let's just say..they don't qualify to ride on THE DOUBLE BIG WHOOPER ROLLER COASTER RIDE in The Lost World of Tambun. Oh, and also they are still paying half price for buffets.

I seriously think Gooly will kiss a girl next year. Because he sayang her and likes her. Is that wrong?

*beat chest* Son....... you don't go prison, son........Don't kiss a girl until you can buy alcohol, son.. Waaaaaahhhh...

Seriously, because I don't have a daughter.. and being less protective over my son naturally..Please tell me is kissing or any other sayang actions considered taboo?

If you have no kids, think about your dogs. Is it ok, if another bloke come and smell your bi*ch ass? Or even just humping for kicks with no sexual commitment?

An apple and a story

I packed him an apple and a box of junk for snacks for school today. He ate the junk and threw the apple into the bin. And he dared told me about it. Gah!


Needless to say, he got a good scolding and nagging and scolding from me. And then was forced to take the above pics. He doesn't look very sorry, does he?

And then he fell asleep before I even finished reading the story. See, when you don't eat enough fruits, you fall asleep on page one..

Sort jor

Hearsay Sapturn or Saturn (either one) was messing with people's head.

Yesterday (or the few days prior).

She popped a vein in her numbskull. The one second to the right. And started talking in a third person narrative mode. That way she felt less personal about the remarks she made about herself. Of course she was lying to herself.

Anyhoo..

She was a meanie yesterday. Snapping and shouting.

Scolding the little boy about this and that and anything in between.

She even felt smug that she sent him off to bed with very little kisses and cuddles. He shall sleep with his papah. Harumph!

But as she began her lonely vigil with darkness as her sole companion, she was ridden with sadness.

She suddenly felt debreast. She refused to say 'depressed' cos being depressed is simply depressing.

And so she was debreast.

Her heart was heavy.. but empty. How is that even possible? Where did that lump come from?

She snuggled up to him, stroking his soft cheeks again and again.

Oh gawd, she sooooo loved him, she felt. She seriously needed some slaps.

And she kidnapped the little boy to her another bed. She needed to be alone with him. Minutes later, poor papah stumbled out of the other bed, thinking that someone had kidnapped his son, which is true.

She could hear his hurried footsteps. And did what she does best - she feigned sleep. She was even ready to lie that the boy came to her bed on his own volition.

Papah heaved a sign of relief and clambered back on his bed upon seeing that two bodies squashed on a tiny mattress.

The mad woman continued to feel remorseful, holding the boy's hand to sleep.

Soon... it's hard to explain.. but that tiny hand in hers somewhat lifted the glum off her chest. A whiff of his shampoo-ed hair made her slightly woozy with love.

She is telling you.. she is unstable.

Did Saturn/Sapturn have that same effect on you? Yesterday at 3.13 - 5.23pm, did you go ballistic scolding everyone / everything that came your path? Especially young innocent boys? And around midnight, you were drowning in remorse, and went off to kidnap your own son?

A parcel

This morning, a parcel came at my door. I had been waiting for the loot inside for 7 days 6 nights.

Enclosed was a hand written note. It says that I am beautiful, kind and most lovable. Do not click on the picture to get verification. Didn't your mother tell you it's rude to read one's personal note?

So, trust me, k? That is what was written on that note.

(Don't you just hate love me for my antics?)

OK, so what is inside the old, torn shoe box?

Treasure lah! Like I will tell you!

Actually I will tell you.. by showing you this -


Heheheheh! Thank goodness I am not made of xy chromosomes and do not celebrate Hari Raya Haji, Nuzur Quran or other raya-raya celebrations which require the male species to wear a songkok.

See any resemblance? Abu is cuter, eh?

On the other hand, this boy looks smashing!

Salam, Pak Gooly. It's International Cultural Day at school next week. Thank goodness for nice people (yes lah, you lah! ) who sent the costume all the way from Milan our very own kampung. If not for her for sending that set of costume with such short notice, Gooly'd probably have to go as Mulan. (Why? Because we are Chinese. About the gender issue, don't discriminate females, ok?)

Ok, now.. what is the purpose of a songkok? It doesn't do much, you know. I know cos I was wearing it the whole morning. I mean, at least the turban can be a helmet..or a protective gear. But a songkok..what does it do? It's not very decorative, for sure (on my head at least.)

And the whole morning I was parading the songkok (in my apartment, alone, with curtains drawn), I realized that it didn't cover my zits on my forehead. I don't think it's broad enough to shade. It pressed my hair to an undesirable style when removed. And I think my head stank of sweat after awhile. And black doesn't go with my skin colour (which is why my hair is with streaks of whites)

But I am happy! Gooly can celebrate International Cultural Day and proudly go on stage to say:

SAYA DARI MALAYSIA! APA KHABAR!!!!

That speech has been well-rehearsed. We are doing it Miss Universe style. Yet to perfect the wave, though. Stay tune for pics of the actual day.

(To you, thanks. You know I hate being schmaltzy especially to you because you are supposed to be my nemesis. So stop making me love you, k? So I am not returning the solitaire diamond necklace to you. *)

*a private joke

Addendum: Due to my curious nature, I just have to find out the origin and the history of songkok. I see now why it's designed for men.

I mogok

i.a.m.t.i.r.e.d.

i.a.m.s.l.e.e.p.y.

f.o.r.t.h.e.p.a.s.t.2.4.h.r.s.

i.s.s.o.m.e.t.h.i.n.g.

w.r.o.n.g.

w.i.t.h.

m.y.b.r.a.i.n.

o.r.

m.y.

c.h.i.s.o.r.t.h.e.

f.e.n.g.s.h.u.i.

caniblameitonyou?

Note: it's chis or, not chisor.

Random Jobs

When I swim, my head goes underwater, and 1001 thoughts flash before my eyes.

For example..

I thought about security guards. And if any of them had silently wished that some major catastrophe happens during their shift just so that they ..you know.. don't feel so bored.

Adventurous stuff like.. an anaconda slithering into a chicken coop.

Or..spooky stuff like.. hell, I don't want to think about it. And YOU don't have to tell me about it either.

So!

And then they have stories to blog, instead of sitting all night, wondering if they should pee at 3 am or 3.02 am. Boring..boring.

Speaking of boring-ness, which is the world's most boring job? A toll collector? Or a lift-presser? I kid you not.. there is/was such a job. Remember Asia Jaya? We used to go there for bowling cum longkang sessions. And in the lift, there was a man, who sat on a stool whose job was to press the buttons of the lift which comprised of number 1 - 6 for all patrons.

And he spoke good English! "Which floor? Bowling is on the 6th.." though his voice was kinda dreamy and robotic.

Hmm......

What else?

Clowns! Why would anyone want to be clowns? Ronald, can you tell me?

Does your mom tell you that RED and YELLOW don't match?

And what's with the curly frizzy hair?

And the sausaged lips?

And the gargantuan shoes?

And the horrid looking bulbous nose?

Can't you just twist balloons and make flowers disappear without the clownish make-up?

Seriously.. kids get scared, you know. Geesh!

Ok, ok.. fine. I get scared.

Clowns and chicken breast meat. Blek. Me no like.

Am I random or are you wearing a condom? Not that it matters.

Phweeet! *whistle blowing*

It is!

IT is not!

IT IS!

IT IS NOT!

Ahh... Sunday bickering between father and son.

It usually ends with someone crying (guess who?) or teary or trying to get support from me.

"Mahmee, tell him he is wrong!"

Let's rewind...

Papah sauntered out front the closet room, and proudly claimed that his shirt is the same colour as Gooly's - blue.

"No, it is not the same. Look, mine is blue and white..here.. at the sleeve, it's white! See?"

"Look, I got white too, here at the side. See?"

"I got black words. Yours doesn't. See?"

"It's the same -lah!"

"No, it's not."

"It is!"

"It's not! Tell him he is wrong, Mahmee!"

Around this time, I feel like throwing my toilet slipper at both of them! It's only something GG would do, so I didn't. Instead, I gave them THE look - which, one eye can send the signal of "How old are you? Why are you bickering with a 4 year old?" , and at the same time, the other eye says, "Enough! Blue, white, black! I don't care! Now let's get moving! I'm hungry!"

And in the car, a tiny voice said, "It's not the same."

I turned around and said, "It's the same. The main colour is blue."

"Ohhhh....silly me," and he giggled.

I am gonna buy a whistle. I am the referee! The umpire...the conflict solver!

May I add, always for something very mundane like, the colour of the shirt... Oh, the other day was more interesting - which was the biggest dinosaur.

Blek! I don't even wanna get involved at the first place. AND DON'T FORCE ME TO USE THE RED FLAG, BOYS!

A wishing mermaid

Gooly caught a beautiful mermaid (guess who? *wave wave*) who gives away wishes at the pool yesterday.

While covering her bosoms with one hand, and placing the other on her forehead for dramatic effect, she wept, "Please let me go, I will grant you a wish. I am a magic mermaid.."

"No, you are not! You are a fish. I am gonna cook you and eat you up!" he said while being cheered on by his fishing partner, Ada.

The mermaid retorted, "I'm not gonna play if I can't be a mermaid. Quick! Say you wish and let me go!" (I still have 5 more laps to go, mind you. I am not here to splash water like you little tots.)

And she flipped her golden amber hair that hung below her waist.

"Ok. I wish for you!" the boy decided confidently.

"What dya mean? You wish for me?"

"You! I wish for you. My mahmee."

"You don't want anything else?"

"No. You. I only want you."

And he swam away.

The mermaid sat on a rock and started singing a melancholy tune.

"Oh my beautiful child..."

The end.

What would you wish for? (that I stop singing? :P)

Today I Make You Think

For a four and half year old, he sure knows a lot about science.

We breathe in oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide.

True?

What about when we fart?

What kinda gas compositions do we emit?

Okayyy.... Now my brain starts clicking, the wheels are turning...

If there is an answer to that, how do we know if the answer is true? Did the scientist capture the gas in plastic bags or canisters? Did they run tests on litmus paper? If so, how did participants of the research knew when they will fart? Did they feed them with lots of bean to ensure lots of gas?

*smirk*

I admit. I was a bit stumped when Gooly asked that question. Based on past experiences, I know not to rely on you guys for answers. Instead, I went tap -tap-tapping the keyboards straight to my trusted G.O.O.G.L.E sites.

All about farts - I typed.

Ho ho ho..... I found a GEM. Not so for the knowledge contained in there but.... I realized that there are many people who wonder about kentut and are not shy to ask anything and everything about it, like moi and moi son. (Simply. I don't speak or read French.)

Among the many questions that made me laugh my infamous snort- like-pig laughter were:

a. Is it possible for a talented person to earn a living through flatulence? (Sinkar, this could be your chance to be famous!)


b. Is it normal for dogs to like the smell of human farts? (Liucas, I know your answer already! Don't say out, she will not feed you for 100 days!)


c. What is the best position for farting? (imho, while doing a hand stand in the swimming pool.)


d. Do fish fart? (Tuti and Tutu, RIP.. But I suppose out of boredom, you did dare each other to do the stunts of pushing air through the rear end.)


e. Is it possible to leave a brown spot on your pants because of a fart? (GG, that day you said you sat on Milo...hmmmm?)


f. If you fart in the bathtub, is the water polluted and should you refill the tub? (I don't care. I don't have a tub. I want to know about swimming pool.)


g. Is it weird to enjoy farting? (Sinkar, back to you.)


h. Is it common for people to enjoy smelling their own fart? (GG, I know you like other people's. That is uncommon!)


i. Can farting be considered sexy? (IF done by me.. 99.99% yes)



*snort snort*

I love laughing at one in the morning.

*snort snort*

(Is there a way to control this snorting? It's embarassing!)

Kuki and more

Many times I regard myself as crazy and insane. Impulsive too.

If you like, a rebel (in a red beret) suits my characteristics also.

Why this sudden confession? Did I murder the person I hate most? Nope.

I just baked. Crazy and insane..totally impulsive. The rebel in me will surface in due course.

I spent hours at the aisle deciding to get married or not to make muffins, cakes, cookies or agar agar.

Muffins, I don't have the whatchamacallit... the cup tins..?? So, sorry...can't bake muffins.

Cakes, I don't have the...whatshouldicallit...the rectangular/roundish tins?? Thus, can't bake cakes either.

Agar agar...kindergarten stuff. *yawn*

Cookies....oooh.. interesting. The cookie cutter is darn cute. Butterfly shape- nice. I shall bake cookies then. ;-)

Now the ingredients. D'oh! I don't have one! Like I cared. I am a rebel - nothing stops me! How hard is it to figure out the recipe? Not at all! *tilt my already tilted beret*

Oh..don't forget the rolling pin! Gotta have a rolling pin for cookies! *feeling smart*

So we got home. And out of respect for all bakers, I decided to search for some recipes online. Found one that uses all of my ingredients, called Chocolate Chip Cookie.

But dang, the rebel in me is dominant. I.. I.. I.. seriously, didn't know what I did..But the first batch of cookies did not look like cookies in the oven.

They were lumpy. I didn't even get to use my butterfly cutter. Hmmph! And the roller? Double hmmph! Now I can use it to hit GG's head.

These cookies were a cross breed of muffin, cake and cookies. So I added more flour without even measuring. Simply hantam!

(I will write a letter of apology to Persatuan Kek dan Biskut for disrespecting recipes.)

After adding the extra 'flower', they were less lumpy. I dubbed my creation KUKI, which albeit looked not quite like cookies, but tasted just like them.

I was feeling a bit low... my baking adventure was a big flop! (Of course, rite? Recipes are created for a reason, rite?)

BUT! Papah came back and took a whiff..and said, "Something smells good!" and when he put one kuki into his mouth, he actually went, "Hmmmm...... nice!"

(I looked at him for 10 whole seconds to ensure that he didn't spit out into the potted plant.)

So, my spirits lifted. I may be a baker some day. *muffle giggles*

Tadaaaaaa! Presenting Kuki.....

And yesterday, I decided to boil some herbal tea.




Gooly was coughing. But after drinking those akar rumput rampai, he stopped coughing this morning.

Want to know the miracle concoction?

Sorry..can't tell you.. because.. I bought the package which was written in French. I don't know the name or the ingredients. But I bought it anyway cos there is a picture of waterfall in front.


Sure it's leung cha, right? Takkan tongkat ali.......

And papah drank it, he said, "Mmmm... nice."

Deja vu.

Hmm..now I think he seems a bit fake. Just a bit. It seems rehearsed. Ha ha.

In conclusion.. I am one crazy person..who assumes things too much.

i.e waterfall = leung cha.

And this morning, I realized my SPF 30 cream tube is also written in Thai. What makes me think it's face cream?

I dunno. But I have been using it on my face for months.

SORT PLUG!

Sharing and the Buuuuunnnnn~

Do your kids share?

Well, mine does. *ahem*

Do you have problems propagandizing the idea of sharing is caring?

Well, I don't. *nose high high*

BUT I have greater problems.

The way he shares is, to say the least, very 'kiksau' or problematic.

First of all, he volunteers to share, even without me goading.

"Do you want some of my crackers?"

Nice, eh? Before you say "Awwwww..." let's see what happens next.

Just as you reach out your hands to receive the generous offer, he will say:

"Crackers are junk food. You shouldn't eat so much, you know." And he puts the crackers into his mouth and starts munching in the noisiest possible way.

Chartoe, eh?

On some days, he is much better.

He lets you take the crackers. BUT just as you were about to put them in your mouth, he asks:

*

*

*

"Do you want to share back with me?"



WT...............???


Usually I say NO!!!

Then he will lecture me about being generous and unselfish, and the other 101 sharing mantras. Ngam ngam cham cham until I give him back the crackers.

Anjua? Awhuit not? Share lei share hui, takorkat!

***

Today I was famished. There was one custard bun which belonged to Gooly.

I asked politely if I could eat it.

He was very reluctant. He hesitated. Then he suggested that we share it even though he had just eaten his dinner.

Ok, takpe.. I am a sharing person. So I broke the one-gulp-can-finish small bun into half, and passed it to him, which we both gulped down in record time.

When he found out I had finished my share, he started crying, "That was my favourite bun..." (thinking that I should share my share with him, understand?)

Ok, blood started to rush upwards toward my brain. I started lecturing him the whole idea of sharing again. About caring. About loving. About equality. About a hungry mother can really whoop his ass.

He then in his most pitiful voice said:

NEXT TIME I WANT TO GIVE YOU THE WHOLE BUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNN~

Correction. He wailed the above with tears streaming down with exasperated breath. When the BUUUUNNNNN~ was uttered, it was with such strong emotion that you would think he was talking about his dead turtle (not that he has any).

So I retorted that if he were to give it to me so unwillingly, I wouldn't want it either.

I WANT TO GIVE YOU THE WHOLE BUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNN~

Put that on repeat mode for about 10 times.

It was starting to get funny, seriously because his lips quivered so much at the word of BUUUUUNNNNNNNNN~~~~~

Sigh! It was only a custard bun, son. I mean ... a custard BUUUUUUUNNNNNNNN~~ Why so emotional?

Finally, GG's method worked. I told him, the next time if he really did give me a whole buuuunnnnnn without causing any drama, I'd get him TWO BUUUUUUNNNNNS the next day.

That did it! Phew! He could say BUN properly without feeling too sad.

Thanks GG. (Turn around vomit)

Addendum: After reading K. Keat's comment, I realized that its unfair for Gooly that I reported only the above incident on the topic of sharing. He does share with other people, no problem at all. And usually he offers, "Do you want some?" with bated breath. And when you decline, you could almost sense his shoulders relaxed - glad that you didn't eat his food. Kakkaka. But the main thing is, he does have manners to at least ask. And even if you toook a bite or two, he is alright. He throws a fuss only with me and his papah... Hmm... maybe our bites are too gargantuan?

Eh, play time is that?

Pada suatu hari, I met with an acquaintance who told me the most preposterous erm.. uh... ahm.. what word should I substitute here? Ok, I tell you what she had to do, and you tell what adjective to describe the scenario here.

Ok, before that.. a lil background of meself.

During my kindergarten year and babyhood, we stayed in this bungalow with a huge compound with other cousins and their families. After school, we ran around in circles till I threw up or on some really bored-shit day, someone would organize a Hari Sukan, filling up 7 up bottles with water, which I was never allowed to partake, cos apparently I slowed down the actions. Durh! I never wanted to play those stupid nincompoop games anyways! *do wateva sign*

Later on, my family moved out on our own. Then, my daily after-school routine consisted of dropping off my bag, and cyling to house no. 99 down the road. Sometimes it got eventful where Dungeons or Dragons was on TV and we got to watch it together while munching packets of Mamee. Other days, we just mucked around.

Ah... sweet sweet childhood of tuition-less days.


So many times I have been told, things are not the same anymore. We can't possibly raise our kids the same way as before. And can I say:

WHY NOT?????????

I hate toys. Especially battery operated ones. When I say, Gooly, go play, I mean go downstairs, run around in circles, catch a tadpole, kick a cat , throw slippers, etc. You know, anything impromptu? Making up games? Getting into mischief?

..which brings us to the story about my 'friend' (not very close) who organizes play -time for her daughter. Usually she invites three other girls. So, there will be 4 of them. Yay! Can play mahjung...

Of course not. It's a very organized weekly programme. Very professionally done, where the itinerary includes structured role-playing of princesses, fairies and ... *gasp* (I don't know what girls play lah) And..deng deng deng deng....the kengchau thing is because there are 4 of them, she will have to buy 4 sets of everything whenever she goes shopping:

4 dolls
4 doll houses
4 princess dresses
4 wands
4 napek feathery bags
..and other 4s.

And all the items must be identical because *listen to my droning voice and look at my eyes rolling* the girls wouldn't share, and always want the same things.

So she gave birth to one daughter but ended up spending money like she had quadruplets.

Tell me, is that:
a. preposterous

OR

b. you want to shut me up becos "goolymama, you don't have a daughter, you have no right to say anything. You don't know how girls behave becos you have a modicum amount of male chromosomes in you."

Fine. I will shut up.

One last thing, if you bring your kids to my place, there are no toys. I can give you empty boxes. Go build a castle. I don't care.

Stop giving me that look. Gooly is fine~ He is happy.... he will be a grown man, with good memories of his childhood of Transformer Box Costume, and Toilet Roll Rocket.

...erm..right?

Mud yeh gum hoe siew?

Gooly has funny bones.
He laughs easily and loudly.
He's someone you wouldn't want to be caught with in the cinemas or libraries.


He is a hysterical laughter.
He gives belly-roaring, guttural laughs.



When he runs, he flaps his arms like a chicken, and he laughs like a hyena.
Obviously, he doesn't run to win.
He runs for fun.

When he tells a joke, he goes like this, "What.. hahaha.. do you call...hahahha... a deer..hahahah with no eyes.. hahahhahahah?"

And if you told a joke, he will laugh before he gets the punch line, just as a gesture of appreciation that you are paying him attention.
He makes a very good audience.

If you sang him a silly song, he'd ROFL, with tears spurting out.

If you farted or burped, he'd contribute the noise pollution a few decibels higher with his laughter.

If your hand is anywhere near his armpit area..
Yup, you guessed it.. he laughs like a pontianak.

And he kinda makes you wanna laugh when ..
all you want to do is sulk and pout,
mope and cry.

Once, out of peer pressure, I reprimanded him for laughing too boisterously.

That I regret to this day.
Something I will never do again.
A child deserves laughter.

Ayam Percik and Mona Lisa

When I wake, this is what I see (when Gooly doesn't park his face inches from mine).

Little fluffy white clouds. (What? I wake 7 early 8 early now, before the Sun is on the top of our heads, okeh?)

I love the view.

Why are clouds prettier here?

Ah.. I know. Because there are no grilles to obstruct the panorama.

I hate grilles. They make us look like we are in prisons. Instead of preventing thieves and robbers and 8pohs coming in, they stop us from jumping off the building when the need arises (contohnya: the announcement of an impending visit from your M_L. You need to buy a vowel here again).

The house I lived in prior to this, was grille-less too.

Free like a bird. Not caged. Not grilled. Yup, we like that.


On a totally unrelated but got-connection note, grilled chicken anyone?


PERHATIAN: Ayam percik ini BUKAN dimasak oleh saya atau mana mana pihak yang bermastautin di kawasan ini. Ia semata-mata untuk hiasan dan hiburan bagi tetamu-tetamu. Jikalau anda ingin .... (forgot my BM already lah! Think I so free do karangan ka?)

On a lagi tak related note, we went B2S the other day.

What is B2S? It's a stationery shop where they sell rows and rows and rows of watercolors, magic colors, crayons, pens, pencils etc. They make you artistic just by looking at them. I so wanted to buy so many things. But I reckon all my art-ventures with gooly will turn out looking like this:



So, what's the point, right? I settled with just two rollers and some paints and a canvas. Gooly was very excited and got down to work immediately when we got home.


He started with some splashes of greens and yellows. And finished off with strips of browns. He proclaimed his masterpiece as "FOREST TRUNKS."

Not bad, eh? B2s, we are going to visit you again. Boo! Be very afraid.

FOREST TRUNKS
Artist: Goolypop, aged 4, sometimes 50
Materials used: Canvas and watercolors, a dash of spit
Inspiration drawn from: Nature, Mahmee and dung (no correlation)
Price: NOT FOR SALE!

Call me dictator, and I MARRY you!

Look, I am all for DEMOKRASI. I love to vote for matters like where to makan, which channel to watch, etc. I am a registered voter for Daerah Damansara. I am a demoCAT!

BUT!

..when your child wants to wear a swimming cab to play football, do you not let...erm.. make him re-think his decision?

Look.


Football? Like that? Wt....

He looks like he is wearing a c_nd_m. For the benefit of my beloved son, I shall not spell out the whole word. But, go ahead. Buy a vowel.

*trying not to laugh*

Bwahahhahahahah! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!...Gooly..But you look so cute!

Haih.. That's the thing with kids. They get to look silly, act silly and ask silly questions. So yes, I should let him be. Swimming caps for football games. Why not?

Let's rob the bank next!



Woooohooooo~ Mahmee is getting all sporting and fun loving! Don't ever ever ever call me a dictator AGAIN! Hic! (what? i only had yomeishue!)

Hic!

(See how you can can me a dictator today)

Foodies.

If "Yan can cook" (remember this show with that funny accented chinese chef?), so could Gooly.

And so he did. Celery soup. Yum... It was quite easy really. I chopped up the ingredients and he put them in. It gave him a sense of achievement. So great he felt that he immediately wanted to share his food with papah.

He opened up the window, and yelled," WIND, carry the smell off to papah's office!"

Cute.

On a another food related note, we went out to Kayu for supper some time back. I love puris. Have you tried them? They are like mega-huge. Here, take a look.




So huge they are that Gooly's immediate reaction was, "Wow, mahmee..they are big! Just like your bra."

Ahem.. Yaumoegauchor? Mine are bigger, ok? :P

(See how you can call me a dictator today)

Tough!

It's been a while since he killed some brain cells of mine.

He did it again, a couple of days back. Gooly wanted to know:

HOW DO BANANAS TURN FROM GREEN TO YEYOW (yellow) ?

Oh-kay, son. You want to know why bananas are yellow when they ripe? Like how leaves turn brown? Or sky turns orange when the sun sets? You know what? I don't know. *smile* Lemme check with my friends.

She said it has something to do with PIGmentation, which makes sense until she explained it this way, "Long ago, PIGs loved bananas."

Meanwhile, he said something about maturity-breasts and periods. And somehow bananas got lost in the plot.

Whatdoido..whatdoido...whatdoido.... (with friends like them?)

I google the answer, of course.

So we learned about chlorophyll, and also never to depend on my friends on scientific matters.

Also, I thought he had given up his profession as a neologist right after creating "skoobables". There were no inspirations for new words for some time. All of the sudden, he resumed his duty as the creator of "ENGLISHEN".

My son is creating a new language called ENGLISHEN. Should I be ..erm...errr...ah... worried? *bite nails*

Why? WHY? Do you want to learn a new language, son? Learn Mandarin, Thai..Cantonese, even.. But when I try to teach you, you turn a deaf ear. Why Englishen? Why the trouble of creating a new language?

"Because it's easy with Englishen. You say 'tampong' when you tangle up a person with string. There is no English word for 'tampong'."


=_____=*

But nobody speaks Englishen. Nobody will understand you.

"I teach you. You learn it. First word is 'maiminpao'. When you blow bubbles, and nothing come out, you say, 'maiminpao."

+______+*

WHY ME......why me......why me............

Duuk ..dukkk...dukkk.....*hitting head againts wall AGAIN*