Roles Rules

Everybody has a role to play in Baby Justin's daily life.

The Daddy:

- The official chauffeur

- The official photographer

- The diaper changing assistant

- Greets him good moring with his favourite cot mobil animals

- Carries him to and from the car in the mornings

The Gong Gong:

- Carries him up four flights of stairs if I have more than one bag to handle

- Makes funny animal noises which sounds to me like a cross between a monkey and a chicken

- Carries him outside to appreciate his pots of flowers along the corridor

- Sings him nursery songs that I have never heard of in my entire life

The Po Po:

- Takes turns with me to bathe him

- Attempts to make him nap in the afternoons with pretty low success rate so far

- Burps him which I have very little patience for

- Makes milk & feed him

- Entertains him constantly with little animal softtoys

The Uncle:

- Knocks off in the evening and sings boring army songs to soothe him when no one else seems to be bothered by his crying ( I once dozed off listening to him)

The Ye Ye:

- Welcomes him home every night with some Chinese New Year songs

- Chats with him in the rocking chair while we have our dinner

The Ma Ma:

- Makes milk & feed him (usually outsourced by The Daddy) if I am still having dinner or showering

- Attempts to make him sleep for the first round at night

- Bathes him on Sundays

The Mummy:

- The official milk supplier

- The official jukebox

- Oversees milk & diapers supplies in both households

- Kisses him every morning when he wakes up

- Continues with the morning greetings of his cot mobil animals while The Daddy changes into his working clothes

- Takes on any of the above when anyone decides to take a day off

And thanks to everyone playing their roles so well.... I am still sane and enjoying every bit of motherhood :)

Tissue Paper Episode

We found a table at R-Burger Orchard ION and sat down with our food. Someone left behind a packet of crumpled and used tissue which we conveniently dumped into a used tray on the next table.

Along came a young girl, stopped at our table and asked: "Er... I had a packet of tissue here?"

The Man said pointing to the used tray behind us:" Oh, we thought it did not belong to anyone and threw it away."

For someone to actually leave and yet turn back to the eatery for her tissue, she must be in need of some tissue badly. I then reached for my bag and was about to offer her my tissue if she didn't mind when I saw her friend behind her with a tray of freshly bought food.

Ooooo.... Enlightened. That pathetic looking packet of tissue was meant to "chop" the seat!

They then moved away to another table at a corner. (Not after she picked up her packet of tissue from the used tray).

Well, you can't blame us can you? I thought this only happens in hawker centre or foodcourt.

If you really have no choice but to use this "chop-a-seat-" tactic with tissue paper, PLEASE PLEASE use a newer , cleaner and uncrumpled packet. The chance of you getting the seat is much higher... trust me.

Birds of A Feather Flock Together

An interesting but disgusting sight. First the crows tore up a garbage bag of waste food. Then the mynahs, pigeons and even the hens & chickens joined in the fun.

Not All Help Is Welcomed

Just came across this piece of news about how a lady jumped to her death after attending a self-help course. Very unfortunate and ironic I must say. Aren't such courses supposed to help regain confidence, find yourself, be a better person blah blah blah? Who would have thought that such positive intentions can lead to death.

Is this just an isolated case where the course is too intense and uncertified? That plus the fact that people who choose to attend such courses generally are in a relatively more vulnerable or confused state of mind anyway? I definitely hope so, given the proliferation of such courses/talks.

I always wonder if such courses really can change a person's life or outlook. Perhaps without the intensity (which in this case resulted in a freak disaster which could have been avoided), they just cannot get to peoples' mind.

How about books or other literature of such kind then? Are they safer but maybe not as effective? While browsing in a book store the other day, I couldn't help but notice there was an entire shelf or maybe two dedicated to self help books.

If you ask me, there is always the kind of help that doesn't burn a hole in the pocket and is totally safe... family and friends.
(Disclaimer: Ok, it depends on the the kind you have!)

More of it at:
http://sg.news.yahoo.com/ap/20091208/tap-as-australia-the-turning-point-79704af.html

Wardrobe Crisis

I am having the worst wardrobe crisis ever.

I never realised how serious it is until that day when I finally governed up enough courage to try on my pre-pregnancy clothes which I had painstakingly kept organised neatly in my wardrobe when I shifted house (come to think about it, I shouldn't have bothered)

To illustrate the extent of how disastrous it is... imagine not being able to pull up my pants past my mid thigh! And not only do the buttons & the holes on my shirt not meet, they are a good three inches apart! And yes, I was already holding my breath while trying them on.

I guess before that I have been in denial, hoping that I would fit right back in them "one day" (now this "one day" seems too bleak to be in this lifetime).
Now it is time to bid farewell to all my beloved clothes and they will soon be heading for cartons or other people's wardrobes. Sigh, their destiny it shall be...

As the chinese saying goes: "Old ones don't go away, New ones wouldn't come!"
So just the other day, I indulged in a short yet intensive shopping trip with XH (short because we both needed to rush back to breastfeed before we explode, intensive because we both recognised that shopping to replace an existing wardrobe is serious business :-)) Like how XH put it... we must have tried on like a zillion skirts in Zara for that 2 hours.
Though it was fruitful since we both went home with a few good items, the fact they were at least 2 sizes up my original can only be summed up in one word...Depressing!