We unwrapped our box from Bakestarters with much excitement this week, since all of us are big pineapple tart fans. Since I had some time before our projected baking day (Friday), I was thinking of ways to make our tarts look dog-like, in keeping with the Year of the Dog theme. Then I remembered an old milo-doggies cookies recipe I had tried a few years back, and it was perfect!
He came out from school beaming, clutching his precious unicorn cupcake. “Mummy! Today is Kaili’s birthday! I have a cake.”
Of course, he wanted to eat it Right. Then. And. There. but I persuaded him to wait till we reached David’s school – “then you can eat it while we wait for kor kor.” Reluctantly, he agreed.
We were pretty early to get David, so I found us a stone table and bench and opened up the cupcake case. “Here, Daryl.”
Everything happened in a split second. One little arm reached out to get his cupcake, but missed the mark (or did I accidentally move my hand? I can’t remember.) and smoosh went the cream. His unicorn was now a flattened mess of rainbow cream…
I don’t know who was more stunned – him or me. One long second later, “M-m-m-mummyyyyyyyy!” His face crumpled up as the tears poured down his cheeks. In between sobs, “Mummy, I no more unicorn!”
There’s a boy I see every morning when I send David to school.
He always comes alone, late. He’s pretty lanky and tall, with floppy hair, and he always looks down, never at us. The bell has rung, but he’s slowly shuffling along the pavement towards the other gate – the “late” gate.
It makes me wonder, what’s his story?
The night before Christmas, we watched The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe. It’s been some years since I watched the movie, and there were a few moments in the story that gripped me afresh. But I just never got around to penning a post in the end-of-year daze. Come NYE, I listened to a sermon that reminded me to write it all down. So here’s my first post of 2018, on journeying through the wardrobe of life, wherever it may lead…
The other day, I was reminiscing to a friend how much I miss the Christmases of my youth, filled with weekend caroling practices, too many mini candy canes and potato chips, writing stacks of cards in sparkly pen, and staying up overnight in church playing Bridge or Dai Dee. Gone are the days when I could stay up all night and still get through another day on adrenalin, Coke and good cheer. After 36 Christmases, I’m no spring chicken 😉
Anyone who’s ever known a toddler probably knows what a “meltdown” is – you know, when that sweet and adorable little sweetie pie morphs instantaneously into a red-in-the-face, screaming and kicking ball of fury? Psychologists will tell you that this is considered quite normal behaviour for most 2yo kids – but what about when the meltdown isn’t your child’s but yours? Mummy meltdowns are real, and I’m speaking from personal experience.
A few months ago, David’s first words to me when I picked him up from school was “Mummy! Ms Seet (music teacher) says that there’s going to be a show called The Sound Of Music that’s very, very good, and we must ask our daddy and mummy to bring us!” And that was how I knew that one of the world’s best loved musicals THE SOUND OF MUSIC was coming to us in Singapore this year end.
A few months back, the kind folks at Gaston Luga gifted me with a beautiful black Pråper backpack, and I was smitten with its classic and minimalistic design. Since then, I’ve been carrying my beloved “Black Beauty” out and about on all occasions, and recommended this brand to various ones. Last week, they very generously delivered this “Snow White” dream-of-a-bag to my doorstep – isn’t she lovely?
There’s a song I love which begins with these words:
Make my heart tender and pure,
Make me strong, help me endure.
Recently I’ve been thinking about that – the cultivation of a tender heart.
You know, so many parenting articles these days focus on building grit and resilience in our kids – hey, even I have blogged about that in the past! We want our children to be able to stand strong amidst the storms of life that will come their way; we want them to learn the value of hard work and never giving up, on getting up from failure and trying again.
I want that for my boys too. But how do we do it?