Just another mum making it work

How does one begin to write about the big, chaotic, colourful, exhilarating, frustrating, rewarding, heart-breaking whirlwind adventure that is Motherhood?

After almost seven years of mothering two rambunctious chaps, I’ve come to the conclusion that no two mothers’ experiences are ever alike. It’s the little moments and the unexpected encounters and a myriad of factors that shape each woman’s completely unique journey of motherhood – and yet, we each make it work, in our own ways. Here’s a snapshot of my experience.

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The Kidz Academy: The legends are back!

Do your kids know how Bukit Merah got its name, or the legend behind the Singapore Stone, or what Sang Nila Utama, a prince from Palembang, has to do with the founding of our island home? Let them have a taste of Singapore folklore served up in juicy nuggets of urban legend and history at the annual Kidz Academy this June holidays!

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Squiggle Doodle

The littlest has been really getting into drawing and doodling, to my great delight and excitement. Unlike his kor kor, who pretty much fell in love with all things art before the age of two, little D hadn’t shown much interest in drawing or colouring until very recently, having preferred the messy free expression afforded him by his finger paints instead. So this is quite an unexpected but welcome surprise!

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How we chose a primary school for our boys

I’m sorry, that’s not a very creative title, is it? But really, it’s a post that I’ve been sitting on for a long time, and just didn’t feel confident enough to share. Now that we are almost halfway through the year (GASP!), I do feel like we have gained a little experience with primary school life – enough for me to share – and it’s also a good time to talk about this, as many K1 parents are probably losing sleep over this issue as 1 July draws nearer…

Two years ago, I was you.

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A grandparent’s heart

There are moments when it feels like life has come full circle, even though I know (well, I hope!) that I still have a lot more life to live.

Like this afternoon, when we celebrated my dad’s birthday with a very satisfying lunch at Baba Chews Bar and Eatery. The two monkeys were fascinated with the bar counter, but I told them not to climb the stools in case they fell off. So grandpa gamely went with them, supposedly to take a look at the counter too, but actually to make sure they didn’t fall off the stools and break their little heads. And there he stood, supporting one with each hand, and then later carrying them to the ground safely.

And I flashbacked to my own childhood, and the many outings I had with my grandpa, and remembered the feeling of him hoisting me onto his shoulders although all my uncles and aunties and grandma were all “Put her down, you’ll break your back!” How I loved that feeling of being on grandpa’s shoulders, and I knew he was indulging me back then, and it mattered to me.

I’m sure it matters to my boys too, now.

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Yesterday once more

A few weeks ago, I took a stroll around my grandma’s garden.

It’s been a while since I did something like that. These days, we normally sit on the front porch on Thursday evenings, our weekly extended family get-together time, and watch the kids playing on the swing or scooting up and down the driveway. We chat about our week, snap photos, and chase everyone in when dusk falls and the mozzies start their nightly rounds.

Perhaps it’s because David has recently started reading his first ever Enid Blyton book – The Magic Faraway Tree. (We have a good deal going – he reads one page, I read two) Or maybe it’s that article I wrote last week, about the importance of boredom. Either way, I’ve been thinking about the past more these days, and remembering the high jinks we cousins got up to when we were young. Sometimes it feels like a lifetime ago, other times I remember it like it was just yesterday…

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Celebrating small adventures

As you have probably guessed by now, blogging has taken a little bit of a backseat this year, as it’s been challenging to juggle mothering my two adorable rugrats with managing Dottieshop and housework and church work. But I’m still going to blog as often as I can, and today’s rainy afternoon was the perfect opportunity to huddle up in my cosy sheets with my laptop while the boys took an afternoon nap. (I LOVE the sweater weather we’ve been having the past two days! Except during the school drop off and pick up times…)

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Our first night under the stars

In all my 35 years of life up until last December, I have never once camped in a tent overnight. Oh, I’ve been to many camps and mission trips over the years, but they all involved stays in dormitories or hostels, never the outdoor kind of tents that I would see in movies or read about in books. And I had no inclination to try anyway, since I’ve never been particularly nature-loving nor outdoorsy, but then God gave me two bug-loving, flower-plucking, ant-spotting, bird-watching boys, so…

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I remember…

Today, I watched the boys chasing their friends amidst jets of water under a blazing sun, and I marvelled at how a mere two years ago, both were afraid of the “scary water shooting”.

My friend and I had a decent chat over lunch while our five boys enjoyed their meal at a separate table.

They trooped, single file and noses to the ground, searching out every lizard, fire ant and pretty flower they could find, and even found a dead frog in the process.

We watched as the older two laughed at each other’s jokes, poured water into each others’ beakers, and went into the Gents together. These two, who have known each other all their lives – and now they are six.

And our second borns are at that age now, the age where they are losing their baby fats and picking up the mannerisms and attitudes of an almost 5yo. Wanting to be independent like their kor kors, but not quite ready for it yet.

A wistful sigh escaped my lips more than once, and I felt my heart torn in a way that has become familiar to me now. That longing that time would stand still and this moment could be captured forever, mingled with a sense of loss of the sweet innocence of babyhood, and a burst of pride that they have come this far.

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