Smell vs Stench

Out from nowhere, Christian says this while at the breakfast table this morning...

"Mama, I like your smell more than Daddy's smell."

I grin and teased him.."What? Are you saying that I smell???"

Daddy grins and says "Mama doesn't smell. You mean you like her stench right?"

I throw P a dagger-look and poor Christian blurts out

"but..but Mama's stench smells nice..!"

P chuckles and says I have to blog this while I narrow my eyes at him for planting the association "mama-stench" in Christian's head.

Intelligence

P was feeding Calista this evening when he shouted for me to come and see the game they were playing.

“Where? where’s the block” he asked.

She grinned, hid the block that was in her hand behind her back and pretended to look left and right.

“Where?” he asked again.

She whipped out the block with a triumphant flourish and giggled.

Initiating and playing peekaboo is a sign of intelligence…she is developing faster than we anticipated...!

The most beautiful song in the world

Just finished putting Calista to bed, and this thought struck me as she sang in her baby voice “Mamaa…~ Ma~ Ma~… Ma ma ma~” that this baby song of hers is the most beautiful song in the world, to me.

She capped her song by turning to face me and giving me a peck on my cheek.

*heart turns warm and gooey*

Art of the Brick!

I attended the preview event with Christian and P yesterday., cos I thought it might inspire Christian to get more creative with his lego, when he realises the endless possibilities one can pursue, with those tiny bricks.

What a great way to spend our Friday evening! Even though we went waaaay past Christian’s bedtime (got home at 1030pm), I enjoyed marvelling at the exhibits together with Christian and reading the inspiring captions by the artist Nathan. We asked Christian which of the pieces was his favourite, but all he said was “the food! er..no..the toys!” Haha. I appreciated that lego toy stations they had in the middle and at the end of the tour. Was also happy to take silly photos with lego props and received them as freebies.

P and I enjoyed the reception at the end the most though, cos there was a decent live singer singing lounge standards and we could relive a little of our dating days. It helped that there was free cocktails (on an “ice bar”) and yummy canapes too ^_^ All in all, it was a great first trip to the “Lotus” museum Christian had been clamouring to visit.

Update

Work has been keeping me really busy these few weeks. It’s still fun and I do get a little adrenaline rush from rushing all the work and seeing them through completion.

Christian went through his year end concert today. He was most cute, dressed up as a cat. We had a parent teacher meeting a week back, where his teacher said she has no worries about him, academically, but he has to work on his gross motor and confidence. Sigh.

We gave up the parent volunteer offer at St. Hilda’s, partly cos the expected amount of work we needed to do (design and create website, write proposal and canvass for donations for $2million art building, appear at every school event to take photos and create bulletin at end of year, on top of the weekly reading programs we had to turn up at school for) was very onerous, and partly cos P concluded that their results, after taking away the performance of the GEP students, is only as good as our back-up, Maris Stella.

(Sorry if this is greek to my non-Singaporean readers! This has to do with primary school registration..)

After deciding that, we made an offer for a freehold apartment near the future Beauty World mrt. The seller found our offer and revised offer too low, but we were not ready to part with their asking price, so it fell through. We placed a deposit for the leasehold Bartley Residences instead. It’s right next to Bartley MRT and opposite Maris Stella, so even though we are a little apprehensive about this from the viewpoint of a financial investment, we decided to go ahead because we can imagine our children being happy there. Christian can wake up just half an hour before school starts and walk across the overhead bridge to school. He will probably have many schoolmates living in the same development as well, so they can play safely in the playground below.

Oh Christian had his television commercial shoot on the 5th of this month too. That was a fun experience, and I felt my heart bursting with pride as P sent my pictures while I was at work. I could tell that Christian enjoyed it too, cos he asked if he were going back for shooting the following day. I can’t put pictures up until the commercial airs, but don’t worry, I will probably lapse into the proud-peacock-mama and spam everybody with the commercial.

Our new maid Vanessa has arrived from the Philippines. I am so happy for her cheerful help. Calista does not quite allow Vanessa to help feed her and I can see Vanessa stressed whenever Calista whines or cries, but I’m sure she’ll get the hang of it soon.

Calista scares us sometimes with her obstinacy, diva manner, and yet she can be so cute when she sings or hugs me. Yes, new development, singing. She went ‘wei wei…wa wa wa…” in the tune of “Wei1 wei3 bu1 yao2 pa4” just before sleeping tonight. I was puzzled and then realised she must have been singing the song P sings every time he puts her to sleep using the Baby Bjorn carrier. Oh…hearing her giggles at the end of a long day is really priceless. She giggled when I kissed her from head to toe and blew warm air into her ear. I try to remind myself to do that more often, cos they really do grow up so fast.

Blessed

Two days ago, I read the account of how Frances Harrison, the first female BBC Bureau Chief of Iran, juggled motherhood and her journalist career. Reading about how she brought up her child while running out to capture war stories and newslines was fascinating. She revealed that motherhood brought a new perspective.

“At night in Sri Lanka, I would sit under the ceiling fan and rock my tiny baby to sleep in my arms, haunted by the stories I reported by day: tales of torture, mass graves and the agony of the missing fighters' mothers who never received a corpse to mourn. Both sides reeled out casualty statistics like cricket scores, forgetting the people they talked about were once someone's baby, loved and protected.”

What really struck my heart was when I read this:

“For me, what it means to be a good mother is defined by the women I interviewed for my book on the horrific end to the civil war in Sri Lanka. At the height of the fighting in 2009, hundreds of thousands of civilians were shelled and bombed while hiding in flimsy earthen ditches. Mothers used their bodies to protect children from the flying shards of deadly metal. Dying women gave their babies one last breastfeed, knowing they'd otherwise starve in a place where milk cost more than gold. And some discussed suicide together because they couldn't bear to be separated.

One Tamil widow I met has a daughter the same age as my son. The child lost half her body weight in five months from starvation. Surviving against all odds, the mother crawled under barbed wire in the middle of the night with her children to escape an army detention camp, only to get lost in the jungle. She hid in different safe houses every night, dodged rebel informers and somehow reached the unlikely sanctuary of New Malden in south London, where she immediately settled down to prepare her eldest child for the 11-plus school entrance exam. By day it was verbal reasoning, but by night she would comfort her daughter when she woke up screaming because she feared she was back in the war zone. These brave, strong women put the trials of motherhood in perspective.”

Read: “Parenting on the frontline: when the war correspondent became a mother”.

I teared, as I imagined the dying mother who fed her baby as her life slowly faded away. Oh. What can we do for these poor women and babies?

It is time to stop my apathy. I cannot live in wilful ignorance; we should not be able to read things like that and continue living our lives unaffected by others’ misery.

The least we can do right now is to sponsor a child or widow, and i’ve shortlisted two charities. This shall be P’s and my christmas present to each other.

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Reading this makes all my trials seem so trivial. Yesterday i found that I had greater patience than before, while putting Calista to sleep. She resisted bedtime as usual and kept creeping up or flipping over to play and wander about but I was not upset as I mulled at how blessed we are, to live in peace, to have the luxury to not fear, to have time to stare at each other.. as i sang her a lullaby, i am not afraid that a bomb will descend anytime; i am not worried about where i am going to scrape our next meal from.

Thank you Lord for blessing us even though we have done nothing to deserve it.