As a child, I hated Chinese New Year. This was before the adolescent years of fashion consciousness and make-up wearing hit, when Chinese New Year felt like an endurance test of being shuttled around to various homes, having to make small talk with everyone I didn’t know well, and trying not to say the wrong thing at the wrong time so as not to offend someone. Sure, it was nice getting ang paos, but it’s not like I got to keep any of the money for myself anyway at that age.
When I reached my teens, and began putting more thought and interest in my fashion choices and gaining confidence in who I was, Chinese New Year became an annual opportunity for me to, well, dress up. I started connecting more with my cousins, aunts and uncles – began to see our conversations with less apathy and more meaning.
Inevitably, the questions came over the years…
“Which JC/uni are you planning to go to?”
“What are you going to do when you graduate?”
“When are you getting a boyfriend?”
“When are you bringing your boyfriend to meet us?”
“When are you getting married?”
“Are you going to have a baby?”
“When are you going to have your No.2?”
“When are you going back to work?”
and most recently, “Why don’t you try for a girl?”
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.
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.
During the September holidays (which now seems like half a lifetime ago – time gets really fluid when you have kids), the boys had their first taste of basic carpentry at the very charming and cosy Touchwood Workshop, the craft arm of Ground-Up Initiative (GUI).
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?