Six months in...

Well, this is a sorry state of a blog! So much for blogging every month, what more every week... still, this you must know, Dobbes: your mommy is NOT a "blogger". Bloggers in the Singapore "blog-o-sphere" blog because they want hair, nail and cheap trashy clothing sponsors. You must know I only go for the good stuff (like fun and meaningful vacations I can take you on).

From what I see, they also take a lot of pictures of themselves (your Adda and I prefer to take pictures of you...)

Like this one. Cos you're a far more interesting subject.

Still, this blog was meant to be a regular source of information for you later on in life, so that you have an idea of what things were like when you were growing up. I'm sorry I'm not half as consistent as the fake Chinese American Google Dad who wrote emails to his kid every time anything both significant and insignificant happened, but know that it is because I am WITH you living and enjoying the moment, not just writing about it.


(Thank God for pizza places with colouring stuff. I can only remember to bring the iPad out for you and only sometimes at that...)

Besides, I only write here when I'm feeling ruminative and (more importantly), when I have some time. So you're not going to get any: "Today we went to Wild Wild Wet and had fun!" kind of posts from me.

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Which brings me to the elephant in the room... namely me. I'm almost six months pregnant with your baby sister now but I feel much, much bigger...



See?

When we got the news, Adda and I were a little bit surprised but happy of course. I was actually planning for a Dragon girl, like myself, but this is good too. Having your sister due in November this year means that you would be almost exactly 3 years older than her, which I think is a perfect age gap. Last year you would not have been ready and neither would I; I enjoyed having you all to myself too much and didn't want any other baby in the picture!

I've been explaining you all about having a baby sister since we found out. You have been in equal parts suspicious, mutinous, resigned and now excited to see my tummy ballooning outwards. You would say, "Tummy! I want to touch!" and know that "Adik" is growing safe and warm inside. From time to time, you would suddenly come to me and say, "I love YOU, Mummy..." (emphasis on the "you" to make me feel better) and often when I'm having aches and pains or a bad day.

Other times, you've been developing and changing out of the little round being that you once were. You are elongating and stretching; a little too fast for my comfort although I hardly can stop you from growing up. Adda says your "terrible two's" are upon us and you do seem to test us at every turn: challenging what we say, not being as easygoing as before, demanding your way or the highway.



Not that we let you get away with it.

But you know what? I'm actually thankful for this. You are making us adapt and think and choose. You are turning us into better parents than if you had just been a quiet, docile child who only moves within our comfort zone. With every breakdown, you force us to decide, "ok, how will I handle this? what will I do?" and even though it is hard sometimes, it makes us grow along right with you.

It will be interesting to see you and our fourth cat member play, live and learn together. Exciting times are upon us.


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This was the year you started school and it came about quite haphazardly although it has been relatively a smooth take-off. We got a place in Bethesda Kindergarten almost literally a few weeks (or was it days?) before the term actually began and it was a whirlwind of getting uniforms and explaining to you how you would be away from home for a few hours every day.

So far, you've done as well as any other kid in school, but because this blog is all about the real stuff, here's the absolute truth: you don't like school very much.

It is something that I struggle with a bit. When I was young, I always liked school, right up until University and post-graduate studies. I even wish I were still a student now. School for me meant friends and having fun; books, libraries and being good at exams; holidays to look forward to but even more so when they ended.

But you'd rather just be at home with your toys and TV and grandad. And us.


School has also made you physically sicker more often than you've ever been before (which everyone says is a normal thing but I'm not sure if you have something to do with it...)

So I'm trying to accept the main idea (which I think is something all parents will grapple with at some point in time or other): that you are and will be different from me and that's ok. Besides, not liking school now doesn't mean you'll always not like it.

The challenge will be to get you to keep trying out new things beyond your comfort zone because you never know when you'll find something you'll fall in love with.

The best times I've had so far with you is when you discover something so new and fun that you exclaim (in a totally unironic way): "I TOTALLY ROCK!!!"

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Meanwhile as a rainbow child, you have been showing on quite a few occasions, your eerie sense of intuition and sensitivity. Like how you suddenly wanted to go over and "play with Nyang Mum now" the night before she passed away. Or the time when you suddenly said, "Uncle Terry, Uncle Terry!" and there were no Mini Coopers around but then on my iPhone, the WiFi showed up a hotspot called "Terry Trading'.

Now how could you have known that?

All parents think that the sun shines out of their kids' bottoms (some more than others) and I wouldn't be a good one to you if I didn't think that you're special in many ways. But the rainbow colours of your spirit are frighteningly palpable to me; when you stare at corners and smile for no reason I can discern and talk as if to fairies and sometimes suddenly kick and scream desperately for awhile in the middle of the night that only whispers of prayer calm you down, as if to remind me to pray too.

This has been a year of deaths and births so far, for me. The Universe has placed in my way many incidents, signs and reminders to stop, think and choose how I want to go on; what I wish to shape and create for myself and our family. It's a new experience and at times it's scary but you must know that you are my greatest strength and comfort when I feel uncertain and vulnerable. As much as you need me, sometimes maybe I need you more...