Boxers and Briefs

An era has come to an end - one that was familiar and convenient.

Every half-year (or thereabouts) for the past 2 years, T will start a ritual of tugging at his cartoony undies. First the wedgies, and then the crotch. That's my cue to berate him for such an ungainly action and then head to Mothercare to 'upsize' his undies. It was a no-brainer; wedgies equal Mothercare shopping trips.

But as T grows bigger, the rack selection grows smaller. At age 4, i had a choice of buying size 5-6YO (size is just nice), or i can be kiam siap and buy size 7-8 so that the undies get greater milleage.

For the un-informed, Mothercare stocks up to 8-10YO only i.e. no bigger size liao. Ditto H&M. This translates to having to source for new places to buy big boy underwear and goodbye cars, Batman, tractors, multicoloured undies and other kiddy designs. Is there even such a place? Or do u head straight for adult briefs?

Anyway, T has started his tugging ritual again and the only size suitable for him is size 8-10YO  (he's only 5.5YO now, for cryin' out loud!). No more fun picking out kiddy designs anymore; hello black, blue, grey adult briefs?

Boys And Girls II

Boys: like building blocks, anything with wheels, bouncey balls, Transformers

Girls: like flinging building blocks around, anything with wheels, bouncey balls, whatever gor gor is holding

Boys: major OCD for anything out of their rightful place in the universe and cleanliness

Girls: major compulsion for shifting things out of their place in the universe (see Building Blocks) and enjoys picking random dirt particles on the floor for personal consumption

Boys: indifferent to being styled or looking like a homeless hobo

Girls: enjoys the odd ribbon or hairband on their head for a few seconds before going bald from yanking said ribbon/hairband/rubber band out of their hair

Boys: indifferent to wearing sandals, slippers or covered shoes

Girls: admires the pretty pink shoes on their feet for a few minutes before dismembering said pretty pink shoes on a  long car journey (and irritating the hell out of mum who needs to put them on again when desired destination is reached). Decidedly has a shoe fetish.

Boys: loves their broccoli, salmon skin, fried rice and all junk food. Loathes ice cream and durian for some strange reason.

Girls: gets fishy breath from eating beloved fish porridge and spits out all traces of minced pork before the discovery of soya sauce. Does not mind durian or stinky dried crispy cuttlefish *shudder*

Boys: as good natured and easy-going as they come

Girls: scream their lungs out when they do not get their way

Same same but different...

Ferragamo or Melissa?

Scholl!

Where did my shoes go??

Neh mind, I play fire engine instead.

Indifferent to looking like a ge tai singer

Indifferent to looking like a typhoon-blown mad man

Few seconds before she yanks them off

Budding engineer

The flower should be bigger mummy!

 Obey my wishes or die!

Happy cheery chap

Walking Home

The time has come.

Time for the toddler to leave the confines of mama's baby carrier and be hoisted instead into the now-very-squashy embrace of the baby seat in her chariot when going home.

Very drama hor? The paragraph on top just means that I have given up on lugging a 12.3kg toddler who would insist on flailing her limbs around on a crowded bus while being strapped infront of mummy who by the way is also lugging at least 5kg worth of dinner home.

K is honestly getting too heavy and 'long' for me to manage alone on the 3 bus-stop journey home so papa will be taking over bring-home duties, who is better equiped with 4 big wheels instead of mummy's bipeds.

Huge relief...my knees can finally stop aching due to the combined weight of baby and tingkat. Yet at the same time, feeling kinda wistful for by-gone days where I can sing and talk to her on the way home (on foot) and not risk being piaked on the face by 'octopus' arms (to Ms Tiyo, this particular type of arms seems to be a common affliction in HG too!)

Another Stage in Life

If everything goes well, I'll be moving house in mid-Dec. Wanted to pen this down before I go nuts from excessive brain work and gets institutionalised in IMH, which is very conviniently located right across the road from my new place.

First - The interior designer
He is a young Malaysian chap whom I thought look kinda like Qi Yiwu at certain angles. He has proven very competent at marrying ideals and designs so far and we are hopeful that the reno process will be a relatively uneventful one.

Second - furnishings
2015 happens to be Singapore's Golden Jubilee year and one can hardly go anywhere without seeing SG50. Retail shops seemed to have cottoned onto this and the Husband and I have been going to places which offers generous SG50 discounts. Congrats to those shops who got our money and are laughing their way to the bank. A heartfelt thank you to Ms J who told us abt her staff discount and we managed to save plenty on lighting stuff and such.

Third: The property agent
A VERY young chap who has probably made his first (or second. Or third) pot of gold and sports a Rolex and BMW. Smooth talker who seems to like psychological warfare and 见人说人话, 见鬼说鬼话. Definitely good traits for someone in the sales industry...

Fourth: The MIL
There are 2 living persons on earth whom I trust to take care of the youngest member of our family - her nanny and my MIL. The latter has thankfully jumped to the rescue (albeit on a vonlunteered basis) on the numerous occassions when we need to meet the ID for discussions on the weekends. The only time we tried bringing her to the ID's showroom, K nearly demolished it with her cos we had the audacity to get into discussion with the ID while she was waiting to be entertained, the cheek...the Husband and I were in very bad mood by the time the meeting ended and it was by unwritten agreement that K will never darken the hallway of our appointments with the ID ever again.

Finishing this post up with some pictures of the new house in its errrrr.....retro glory *shudder*

Time

If there is something that I miss from my former life (the one that is not filled with the pitter patter of two pairs of little and not-so-little feet, it would be time.

Time spent in bed, waking up only when I could sleep no more. Instead of leaping out of bed to feed hungry tiny mouths.

Time pampering myself with masks and lotion and primping. Instead of slapping on moisturiser (when I can remember to) and dashing out of the room to a crying toddler who is 'afraid' of being alone.

Time to go places and knowing that I have the entire day to myself without having to be home at a specific time. Instead of having to plan what I want to do on a rare day off so that I am in time to fetch the kids.

Time to warm the sofa and vegging out. Instead of having to cook the porridge one minute, hang out the laundry the next, fold dried laundry another minute, changing diapers/feeding water yet another.

Some weekends pass without my realising it and come Sunday nights, I am raring to go back to work just so the things that need to be done are properly planned without a ghost of a milk bottle or dirty diaper in sight.

Those were the days...

Sunday Nights

This entry is for posterity sake.

Something for me to bring up when K eventually brings her boyfriend home and I become an auntie sharing childhood stories that will make her squirm in embarassment (tit for tat darling...tit for tat)

Everytime Sunday nights come about, I flop to the sofa in exhaustion after 2 days of time with the second born. Not to say I don't enjoy playing with her but my temper is considerably shorter after playing her maid-in-waiting. Going back to work for 5 days suddenly seem preferable over 2 days of porridge spit, crankiness, water-drinking (don't ask...) and eardrum busting cries.

Cinderella rues 12 midnight but I love the stroke of 9pm when both kids are finally in bed and I get a few minutes of breather after spending the day being a MS Windows system (i.e. many 'programs' running at the same time).

Its 9.15pm now and sinking down on the sofa has never been more enjoyable. Bliss....

Road of Recovery

K had a follow-up review with her very cute PD Dr Chua today (I can see u rolling your eyeballs Ms TS...) and we are happy to announce that she is hitting the roads far far away from the Bronchiolitis Monster. The lung infection has cleared and though she will be coughing and phelgmy for the next 2 weeks or so, Dr Chua gave her a clean bill of health.

Now I can crash and burn.

Now we can see her smiling her toothy grin up at us again.

Now she's free from the Nebuliser, which has caused her much anxiety.

Welcome back baby; we missed your feisty antics cheekiness...