Kept in suspense

By the time I was 13 weeks pregnant with the twins, we'd already found out that I was carrying a boy baby and also most likely, a girl one. So this time, when I went for my Nuchal test (Down's test) at 13 weeks, I expected the same thing. But it was not to be. My Ob-Gyn was in a hurry as he had a lady waiting in the wings for him to catch the baby (I hear that's an awfully painful experience when the baby is ready to shoot right out and the Ob-Gyn isn't present to catch it yet) and just did what he had to do. Finding out whether it is a boy or girl isn't a necessity.

So we had to wait for a month. Two days ago, we had another appointment and waited with anticipation. Surely, this time, he would tell us. And then we could start thinking about names.

But foiled again! Not by the Ob-Gyn but by little Muffin him/herself. The first time the Ob-Gyn tried to look, he had his arm around a big lot of umbilical cord and had apparently stuffed the rest of it between his/her legs. So, the Ob-Gyn said he couldn't really tell if he was looking at cord or a little boy part. The good man decided to try another view and this time, little Muffin decided to stick his/her foot in the groin so once again, blocking the all important view.

Cheeky bugger. Packrat thinks it's a girl but I think it's a boy because of his/ her cheekiness. I say only a boy would play these sorts of tricks. Packrat asks if I've met my daughter who is the cheekiest person we know.

So, the jury is still out on that one.



Technorati Tags: pregnancy, telling the sex

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Pregnant dreamscape

One of the lesser known facts about pregnancy is the fact that weird dreams happen. As a non-pregnant person, my fertile imagination already gave rise to very colourful, vivid and occasionally weird or angsty dreams. It has led Packrat to declare, on more occasion than once, that I am crazy.

The dreams have dwindled though. Possibly because I'm so exhausted every night and I don't get a full night's sleep. It's hard for the subconscious to come up with something ludicrous when it's worn itself out and has shut down for the evening. And with the number of 'start-stop' sleep intervals, it is hard to remember anything that has happened, both in reality as well as in my dreamscape.

Last night however, was an aberration. Not only did I have a weird dream, I had TWO baby-related weird dreams all this while waking up to cover Evan's ears because he was afraid of the thunder.

Weird Dream No. 1.
We had twins. Again! And we were only finding out now at 4 months. The doctor didn't know where the other one came from but it was there, as big as the original foetus that we knew was gestating. That was when, in my dream, I started to panic. Where were we going to find the money to support another set of twins? Was my confinement nanny who claims to be a little bit traumatised by looking after the twins at the beginning going to bail at the thought of another set of twins? HOW??? I was a headless chicken, running around looking for answers that no one could give me. And I obviously wasn't as chuffed as I was the first time I heard I was expecting twins.

Weird Dream No 2.
This comes from the conversation I had with my mum yesterday about not knowing if I was carrying a boy or a girl. Anyway, this time, I was pregnant, with just one baby. Then I sneezed and all of a sudden, I had a little baby who, upon closer inspection by Packrat was a boy baby. Miraculously, this baby was born sans gunk and blood. Perhaps the rapid action of the sneeze set him shooting out and leaving all the gunk behind. Anyway, he was a tiny baby and I knew he wasn't full term. So, we needed to get him to a hospital and because he was so tiny, I thought better put him somewhere safe lest I crush him. And the wee little baby fit into one of those plastic boxes that bakeries use to sell packs of 3-4 muffins. So, my little Muffin was the size of 3-4 regular sized muffins.

I don't know which one is weirder and which one is actually more scary. The thought of having another set of twins or the thought of having a premature baby. I think it's a fair toss up.


Technorati Tags: twins, pregnancy, dreams

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Building castles on the sand

The twins are talking more and more and are now able to hold some sort of conversation although their train of thought is pretty much a stream of consciousness. And it's fun because we can now mess with them and at the same time, we can help with their building of wild ideas. I loved dreaming up grand schemes as a child, even now although my delusions of grandeur have somewhat taken a back seat to the realities of life. As a primary school student, when all the pieces eventually came together and I realised that I had fun writing, I came up with the wildest of compositions; some of which were published in the school paper but also led to me being questioned by the principal as to whether I was an abused child.

Anyway, Packrat and I value imagination very highly. We also know the pitfalls of it, great imagination also means the ability to spin yarns and this time, we are on the receiving end of it. Nonetheless, we see it as a worthy pursuit.

The best time to hold conversations with them is when they are both strapped in, in the car. There's less distraction and they aren't running off somewhere or snatching things away from one another. Usually what I do is to take cue from them and what they see and say.

This morning, Evan pointed out one of his favourite objects. The bus. And this was the conversation that ensued.

Evan: Big bus!
Me: Where does this bus go?
Evan: House.
Me: Where is this house?
Evan: Seaside!
Me: Whose house is this?
Evan: Evan house. (He has no sense of possession at this point)
Me: Oooh, what colour is the house?
Evan: White.
Me: What else is there at the house?
Evan: Helicopter!
Me: Helicopter? Which type?
Evan: Apache helicopter. One, two, three, four, five. Five apache helicopters! (Apparently, our seaside house has a huge helipad!)
Me: Wow, 5 Apaches? Is there anything else apart from the 5 Apaches?
Evan: Chinook!
Me: With the Singapore flag on it?
Evan: No flag. Chinook helicopter with crescent moon. No stars. (A Chinook from a Middle-Eastern country? Worrying.)
Me: (Trying to include Jordan, who up till this point has been gazing out the window) Jordan, what else is there at the seaside house?
Jordan: Fireworks.
Evan (Chirping in, panicking): No, no fireworks. Fireworks boom boom! Scared fireworks!
Jordan: Evan scared fireworks. No fireworks.
Me: Ok, apart from fireworks, does anyone stay in the seaside house?
Evan: Teacher Jess (Evan LOVES his Teacher Jess)
Jordan: Ah Ma, Ah Kong, Mommy, Papa, Evan, Jordan!
Evan: Duck Duck and Ele! (Their comfort toys)
Me: So many people. Is it a big house?
Evan: Small house. Seaside house.
Me: If it's a small house, are we all going to sleep in one room?
Evan: No sleep. Go seaside!







At that point, we'd reached the school gates. So to recap, evidently, we're rich enough to have a white albeit seaside vacation home with a huge garden or backyard to park our 5 Apaches, 1 Chinook (possibly stolen from a Middle Eastern nation or perhaps it defected). It's accessible by bus and every night we watch fireworks, don't sleep and just carvot in the ocean.

Sounds wonderful. Now he needs to grow up, make lots of money and buy his dad and I a vacation home like that somewhere. I'll settle for something without the helipad if it makes it easier for him.


Technorati Tags: twins, talking, cultivating imagination

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Fierce Mommy

This morning was one of those mornings where I wished I drank coffee or alcohol or both at the same time. To say I was cranky was an understatement. It was one of those mornings where I wished I could turn down the blinds and pretend the world didn't exist. Unfortunately, I couldn't so I growled, barked and snapped all the way through the morning.

Why?

Because the twins decided to be bright-eyed and bushy tailed at 5.30 in the morning. Of course, because of that, they were at the receiving end of Mommy's snappish, desperately sleep-deprived temper. I did however, discover two things.

1. The twins have learnt to listen and distinguish my tones of voice.

They know when I mean business, they know when I'm about to get mad and they know the 'don't mess with Mommy' tone. And when all are married into one, they know to take cover. Like this morning. Chattering away and getting themselves wound up was something I did not want to have to deal with that early. There was a progression. First, I told them to go back to sleep and they ignored me. Then, I asked them to lie down and they still went their merry way. After that, I demanded that they were to keep quiet, lie down and quit messing about and they stood still for a minute before resuming their early morning play session. That's when something in my sleepy head snapped and I hissed at them that if in 5 seconds, they weren't lying down and keeping quiet I was going to get angry. Immediately, both heads obediently went down onto the pillow without a peep for the next five minutes, which I guess in two-year-old terms was a long long time.

2. The twins know how to seek comfort in one another.

Of course, the silence did not last for very long and it wasn't enough to get them back to sleep. They had evidently had enough sleep despite the fact that I hadn't. Even then, I wasn't going to let them get away with being up and about so early and running round the house. Jordan started to get whiny and started crying for Papa. When I told her no, the crying became wailing, which I did not take kindly to and stared her down. Even in the dark, she knew I wasn't pleased with her and she was one step away from getting a smacking on the diapered bum. In such a situation, she would usually try and seek comfort in someone carrying her. And unfortuately, while crying for Papa, she'd already discovered Papa was blissfully too concussed to come to her rescue if Mommy did unleash some smacking on the bottom. So she settled for what was next best. Evan. Plaintive wailing ensued that would have cracked me up if I wasn't so annoyed. "Didi, carry me!" She pleaded repeatedly while Evan stands by and watches bemused.

Obviously, her heavier than she by 1.5 kg brother is unable to carry her, much to her chagrin. He does, however go over to her and pats her, somewhat condescendingly on the head on goes "Didi sayang", which loosely translated means "Evan love". That placates her somewhat and also realising that she really isn't going to get smacked by Mommy and Mommy isn't so angry as to deprive Jordan of a nice comforting hug help as well.

I'm still tired but the thought of her begging her brother to carry her has caused me to involuntarily dissolve into giggles at odd times of day.

Technorati Tags: twins, discipline

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A floury mess

Since moving to the flat, we haven't had much opportunity for the kids to play outside. I feel bad for them because they have so much fun mucking about. So I decided that since we had access to a huge stair landing space, I would buy a big tarp sheet so that we could sit out there and muck about.

For their first muck-about session, I decided it would be flour and water. Grandma kept trying to direct them to make dough. They had better ideas that included throwing flour around, mixing in a whole lot of water and stirring it about.

That really made muck that Baby J proceeded to smear on the wall. You can see that in the second picture where Evan is in the foreground mushing it with his hands.


































All in, there was good fun to be had. Evan also helped with the clean up where he was stripped to just pants and got to wash out all the remnants with water. I can't put those pics up lest someone comments that I shouldn't put half naked pics of my kids on my blog. And Baby J, well, she looked like a little old lady with all the flour that she had tossed into her hair.

So, an afternoon of fun that justified that somewhat costly tarp sheet which I hope to use more often from now on! Now that I've got it anyway.



Technorati Tags: twins, playing with dough

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Girl Almighty

We've been trying to establish this habit of praying with the kids and teaching the kids how to pray. They are quite good with parroting The Lord's Prayer after us and saying Amen at meal times. When Evan wants the Lord's Prayer cut short, he will say Amen where ever he deems fit.

This morning, we were praying for their aunt, my cousin who would be delivering at the end of the week. When it got to the closing of the prayer, Evan obediently parroted me and went "In Jesus' name, Amen". Jordan however, has developed a bit of a God complex and decided that it wasn't In Jesus' name but "In Jordan's name, Amen". Only after a stern look that she chuckled at and repeated cajoling did she get it right.

I hope God found it funny too.

Technorati Tags: twins, Praying with children

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Nu 'Ouse

Everyday, when I pick the twins up from school, they will demand that they be taken back to the new house. "Nu 'Ouse" in their language though.





















It has been over a month and they still refer to it as the new house.

What do they like about the new house?

The trains go by every 5 minutes, 2 if it is peak hour. Evan has learnt the sound of the train and will announce that a train has just gone by. If it is closely followed by another, he will chime " 'nother train".

The lift. In their words, "lift go up, lift go down". Something they learnt from watching copious amounts of Hi-5.

What do they miss about Grandma's house?

Being able to walk out the kitchen door and walk in the side french doors. Having the car porch and the back garden as their playground.

Watering the plants.

Plucking the leaves off the Oregano plant and sniffing it.

What can't they do at the new house that they could at Grandma's?

Use both Grandpa and our car as their playground. Highbeaming the wall, switching on the indicators and wipers. Preparing for a loud explosion of noise when the car eventually comes on because they've fiddled with the stereo's volume control.

What can't they do at Grandma's that they can at the new house?

Go to 3 different playgrounds, one with slides, another up on a hill with swings and well, the third is an exercise area but works as a playground too.



















(I don't know who the little girl is standing beside Baby J but she stood in rapt admiration as Baby J jumped off the little steps repeatedly)



What is the same either side?

Their Ikea high chairs. It is our only means of imprisoning them while they eat. Although the high chairs in the new house are coloured.

What is different?

Sleeping without air-conditioning and a ceiling fan that goes round and round all night. I'm certain they're trying to figure out how to add it into their "Wheels of the Bus" song. At Grandma's, air-conditioning is a must because it is ridiculously still and hot there.

How is it different for Mommy and Daddy?

They eat dinner after 9pm every night, after the twins are asleep. They eat dinner in front of the television, reminiscent of college days. They're more tired but Mommy's got a walk-in wardrobe and empty space still in there and Daddy's got a whole home theatre system set up to his specific requirements. Mommy hasn't learnt to operate all the gadgets yet and doesn't really intend to learn.



Technorati Tags: twins, moving house

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Children of our times

Because their father was sick and was extremely contagious, he had to wear a mask. To make our children feel included, we found child sized masks for them with Mickey Mouse print on it. It was a great hit. Especially with Baby J who was happy to walk round with it the whole day and talk through it. The only problem was it made her already garbled speech even more unclear.

Evan didn't like it as much, I think it reminded him too much of the hospital which was traumatic for him. But he was a good sport and indulged Mommy and took a photo with her.

The Masked Crusaders fighting disease and germs!








Technorati Tags: twins, H1N1

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To sleep, perchance to dream

Once again, we are back at the sleep issue. The last time I talked about it, I was trying to sleep train Jordan. So many things have since happened that there has been much backsliding with regards to this issue. There was first, going away on holiday which of course, totally threw them off routine; the late flight plus late dinners did not help the matter. Then there was the moving. With a new house and a new bed, there was much discomfort with was manifested in nightmares and multiple wakings at night. Before we had a chance to get that settled, there was the pneumonia that we had to fight. And shortly after that, the twins being sent away because of Packrat's suspected H1N1 had to be added into the mix.

So, basically, the twins have had an extremely disruptive few months and it has been reflected in their sleep patterns. The problem with their sleep patterns is that when they wake, I wake too. I haven't had a good night's sleep in a long time and now that I'm trying to gestate their sibling, I need more sleep. Unfortunately, this elder brother and sister aren't all that considerate.

Last night, I decided, enough was enough. They are two, they are eating very well, even Baby J who has managed to get some chub in her cheeks. Evan woke and asked for milk at 2 am. I told him that he wasn't getting milk till 5 but he could have water. His response was to fling the bottle of water angrily at the one who was proffering it. There was much complaining and crying but I stood my ground and pretended to sleep. All his histrionics unfortunately woke up Baby J who joined him in asking for water at 3 am. Note that although Evan asked for water, he wouldn't take it and got angry because what he actually wanted was milk.

I weathered their plaintive bleating till about 3.40 before I announced that I was leaving the room to make their milk. Baby J was cheeky and parrots "mommy making milk". Evan was tossing and turning uncomfortably, trying to get back to sleep without the milk. He was also impatient. As I made the milk, I wondered if I could push it till 4 am. I decided then to spend the interim 20 minutes resting my eyes which turned out into an hour's nap!

Of course, that was not surprising when most of the rest of the world on our time zone was asleep and I should have been too. But my poor children! I rushed back to their room only to hear Baby J wailing quite plaintively for her father. She must have given up on Mommy by then. Evan however, had fallen back to sleep.

My guilt escalated when I saw the mess in the room. It was akin to locking a puppy up in the bathroom the whole day without anything to do. Baby J's school bag was ransacked and there were papers all over the floor. The cupboard doors were open too, indicating that she had tried to entertain herself in the hour that Mommy went to milk the cow and pastuerise the milk. Tears were running down her face and she was sitting beside her sleeping brother sobbing.

Was I evil for putting Jordan through that? And was I evil for denying Evan milk and allowing him to miserably fall back to sleep? In my mind, I knew they could do without the milk and they would be better off learning to sleep through the night. My heart however, bled for what I put them through. It's hard to ignore the heart for the important lessons that have to be taught.

Of course, I face opposition by the parentals that help look after the children. They are of the opinion that the children should be given milk when they awake and ask for it. I used to think that way too but it's been two years and two years worth of disrupted sleep that I can barely afford. They do the nights occasionally. Most of the time, the burden is mine. Not Packrat's because he works, not our helper's because on a full night's sleep I already have enough issue with the quality of her work. I'm not about to throw in another excuse for her.

So, I need to grit my teeth and let them work through this and learn how to sleep. But how much of this my heart can take, I really don't know. The cries are heartbreaking and I feel like I am committing parental sin of Biblical proportion where I am giving him a viper/ stone when he asks for fish/ bread (Matthew 7:9-10). I need to not be weak here, for their sake and my own. For that thin hope that in the near future, I could possibly sleep longer than a 3 hour stretch at a time, before I start this all over again with No. 3.



Technorati Tags: twins, sleep training

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National Day Vocabulary

The twins are finally old enough to have fun with National Day. Schools in Singapore are given a National Day directive to imbue patriotism into their students and nationalise them. And it starts at playschool. So, at school, they have National Day songs blaring every morning and art and craft for the week has been flag making.

So much so that the twins have quite a comprehensive national day vocabulary. They know "Flag" and that there are "5 stars and a Crescent moon" on the flag. They know Singapore. Jordan, at Packrat's school was very taken with students waving flags during community singing, so much so that when she finally managed to procure a flag off a student suckered by her big eyes and her pitiful request for the student's flag, she insisted we return to the hall and "Sing Singapore".

Evan is happy to yell at flags when he sees them and declares to the world that they are "Singapore flag"s.

Of course, inadvertently, we've added to their vocabulary by taking them to see the fireworks and of course, the flyby.

The fly-by was a huge hit. The boy couldn't keep still and was jumping up and down shouting "Chinook helicopter" which we had taught him earlier but had reminded him would be flying by with the flag. Jordan chimed in with "Apache helicopter" since we figured it was only right to teach them that there were actually Apaches escorting the Chinook.















I'm very proud of the fact that they know that there are two different types of helos. Of course, Packrat wanted to teach them Huey but since there weren't any at the Parade, I didn't think it was all that necessary.

On top of that, they now shout incoherent words on top of their voices more so than usual because they saw the Parade Commander do that and Grandpa asked Evan if he wanted to be one. Being the mother that I am, I told him not to bother because then he'd have his Saturdays all burnt and have a sore throat for a month after. That didn't stop him from marching around like a Nazi soldier on speed though as he tried to mimic the columns and columns of people marching past while Mommy dissed the fact that some of the formations weren't straight and one of the Guard of Honour carrying a Colours flag got the full flag unceremoniously in his face and couldn't get it off fast enough.
























The finale fireworks also added quite a few words to the twins' vocabulary. "Fireworks boom boom boom" and "Scared fireworks" being the primary phrases repeated ad nauseum with the end of the parade. Evan decided the sound was just too much for him and went crazy with each comet and mine burst.

























Packrat and I have decided that we will allow our children to enjoy National Day with their rose tinted eyes for as long as possible and we will not, on our part, for as much as we can, try not to breed our cynical, non-patriotic streak in them for as long as we can. We do draw the line at singing the national anthem as the helo flies by although more out of the fact that I have realised that after more than a decade of singing the only song in Malay I know, I don't actually know the real words to it and have ad-libbed it badly most of my life.


Technorati Tags: twins, National Day, Singapore

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Toddlernista

It was National Day celebrations at Packrat's school and we'd all decided that it would be quite a hoot to bring the twins. As with all National Day events, the dress code was red and white. So Friday morning saw me rummaging through the twins' wardrobe for something red and white for them to wear.

We found a red Threadless t-shirt and white shorts for Evan quite easily. That, together with sockless sneakers made him look like a beach bum of sorts. Quite cool.

Baby J became the problem. Even though she has at least 30% more clothes than Evan does, I couldn't find a thing for her. I found a red skirt and she could wear her brother's red sneakers that he'd outgrown but the girl didn't own a single white top. The only white top she had was trimmed heavily with pink and stained with yellow from goodness knows what she ate the last time she wore it.


























That led me to lament, that like a girls, her mother included, she's got a drawer full of clothes but nothing to wear. The same thought resounded through my mind today when I was trying to pick out clothes for her to go to church in. The girl just has nothing to wear.

Time to go shopping.

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Jello shots

After all the illnesses that have plagued the family in the last month, I've decided, it's important to keep the kids 'cool'. Not cool as in hip, not cool as in temperature cool, even though that's important cool. Cool as in the Chinese concept of cool, as in the opposite of 'heaty' which is often a precursor of bad things to come.

Even though I grew up in a relatively English speaking household, my mother believed in barley water, chrysanthemum tea and this northern grass tea which I still swear by to bring down fevers but haven't drunk since I've moved away from home. I was also plied with black chicken soup and other types of soups to become 'strong' but that's for the twins when they are older.

Anyway, we've had various successes with barley water. Jordan likes it unsweetened, Evan won't touch the stuff (a reflection of their parents). The smell of chrysanthemum tea seems to drive the both of them away even though it's good for them as well, even when it's sweetened. The northern grass thing, like I said, I haven't tried and I'll wait for my mother on that one.

In a bid to try to get some sort of cooling drink into them, I've decided to disguise the chrysanthemum tea, in a way that I enjoy as well. With jelly. Plain agar jelly cooked with the already brewed tea rather than water and sugar. It gives the jelly a light yellow tinge and is yummilicious.

The twins love jelly because it's a treat for them. And they don't seem to mind the jelly tasting chrysanthemum like. Jordan pronounced that it was "good" and Evan didn't even bother to speak because he was too busy stuffing it into his mouth. They asked for seconds but were only allowed that after they had their dinner but I am much pleased.

Of course, how could it go wrong? It's cold, it's sweet and Jordan had teddy bear shaped ones and Evan had car ones. They picked it themselves! Now to find other foods that they'll enjoy as much.






































Technorati Tags: twins, chrysanthemum tea, jelly

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Then and now

There are a lot of things I've forgotten about being pregnant. A fellow pregnant friend and I were commiserating how powerful Mummy-amnesia was and how it was God's way of ensuring procreation because if not for it, we'd all have one kid, traumatised by the experience so much that we'd get our tubes tied and insist on vasectomies just to be on the safe side.

Even though there is NO CHANCE (for all those still wondering) that this time it's doubles again, it hasn't been all that much easier. The nausea, while it did not leave me living in the bathroom with my head in the bowl the entire day, was as bad, especially considering running after two two-year-olds.

When at some point, I looked with warm, fuzzy feelings at my twins and thought "I would like, at some point to do this again..." I'd forgotten about the amount of anxiety and uncertainty a pregnancy could be, from start to finish. All it took was the first bout of spotting to remind me of that, sealed and stamped when it repeated itself when I was in Phuket with no O&G 4 bus stops down the road.

I've also plain forgotten, well, not quite forgotten but the recollection of post-natal blues have dimmed somewhat significantly until a fellow blogger mom started writing about it first hand and then prompting me to write something about it for Mums-a-musing. While reading her blog and doing research for the post I was writing, I was reminded at how crazy things could get post birth. And all I'd been thinking about was nice baby smells and gurgling noises.

So, Mommy amnesia. A most powerful tool and a dangerous one that causes 'nice' delusions.

The one good difference between the previous pregnancy and now is size wise, I have no means of comparison. I think I'm tiny now and I'm happy for that especially since I was the size of a small tank the previous time. And so, everyone who complained about how quickly they got big in the second pregnancy, finally, something that I am not experiencing. And with the nausea, the tremendous exhaustion (I keep being reminded that I am about 3 years or so older than the last time this happened), the slight complications and bed rest orders, I'm taking what reprieve I can get.

Technorati Tags: twin pregnancy, pregnancy

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Siblings

For the longest time I was concerned that I was raising two different entities who didn't care a hoot about one another. I know that it's a phase they all have to go through where they have no other awareness apart from the self. And that they have no concept of others. But I also heard about how twins had an instinctive connection between one another, almost a sixth sense of sorts. I never saw that with the two of them and was convinced it was a myth perpetuated by soapy television and books.

Over the last few months, the twins have gone through remarkable changes. They are more articulate and aware of their emotions. They are more able to express their emotions whether good or bad. They have also become aware of one another's presence and have developed a bit more of a protective streak for one another.

Now that the twins are back from staying with their grandparents, Jordan is going through a "I don't want to go to school" phase where she will cry and wail and protest going to school. We suspect it's got to do with all the upheaval and she has separation anxiety leaving me. We also think it's her manifestation of the Terrible Twos so I don't entertain her wailing. The only way I accomodate her is to allow her to go to school in a dress rather than her uniform. So when she wails "no school!" I ignore her. When she wails "no school uniform", I tell her she can pick a dress to wear to school. So she knows which one is a no-go and which one is negotiable.

Anyway, she knows as her morning routine progresses to her having to leave the house for school and the wailing gets louder. Evan is all too easy to distract because in order to get to school, he needs to take the lift- the best thing in the world. So while one child is bouncing off walls trying to bulldoze the gates down to get to the lift, the other one is wailing and moaning.

In a fit of desperation, I told Evan to tell his sister to hurry up so that he could get to the lift. The boy took it a step further, stepped back into the house took her hand firmly, looked her in the eye and said "hold hand, jie jie" and led her out. Quiet like a lamb, she went along and didn't utter another peep till she got to school.

So, my little boy brings enough comfort to his sister to mollify her and is able to lead her along. Of course, he looks like the older one between the two especially because of the size difference. But I feel heartened to see him look out for his sister and that she responds to him. She's always been keen to hold his hand but he's always shied from physical contact with her. But that seems to have changed and it's nice to see. Yet another reason to put them in the same school but Packrat will have none of that co-ed school nonsense for many reasons so we'll see.

Well, either one of them will have a sibling in the same school with them so I guess that will help but I'm guessing more for the younger sibling than for them.


















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20 20 foresight

I wrote this about 6 1/2 years ago, about having kids.

Kids... they're everywhere! You take the train and there they are, sitting on the floor, climbing rails, screeching.. basically making a full nuisance of themselves. You're in a shopping mall, and you're flanked by them, in their baggy "hip" pants and bad English.

As an English teacher, the latter drives me insane and I want to correct their English, but the annoyance is short -lived and amusing to some extent. BUT, as a soon-to-be married person with the option of having children, the former scares the living daylights out of Packrat and I. The romantic notion of having children where they smell nice and are wonderful to hug is there. Even the whole bit where you go googly-eyed when they first call you "mummy" or "daddy", we buy that, lock, stock and barrel. We have no doubt that having children will give you those moments that you will never forget. But like Paul Reiser realised at the beginning of his book, Babyhood, the minute you have kids, you will forever be tired and ugly, as in unattractive from the very little amount of sleep available to you, either because of feeds and changes, or because you're lying there worrying about how the evil world is plotting to devour your child and spit it back at you, rebellious, chain smoking and clad in leather to say the least.

Yes, the slow but crystal clear realisation of how our lives will be forever changed is dawning upon us. There shall be endless sacrifice. Here are some examples.
1) We will never get to eat in a restaurant peacefully again unless we inflict our kids on someone else.
2) We will not be able to fight on the top of our voices lest we want to pay for a lifetime of therapy.
3) We will no longer be able to afford that Buffy or West Wing box side unless we're content with midget children brought up on Weetbix and milk.
4) We will not be able to pack up and go away on holiday unless we a) see 1) or endure the logistical nightmare of trying to bring a child on a trip, particularly long haul.
5) We will be the most boring people who only talk about their kids
6) We will spend our time at parties, if we're ever invited, either running after the kids or boring the tears out of our friends by being 5).

How insightful and correct I was all those years ago despite not having a clue what parenthood was about. And strangely enough, if someone asked me now whether they should have kids immediately after they get married, I'd still issue the same list of sacrifices and ask if they were ready to do the following. Of course, on hindsight, I would add that even if they did manage to do 1 and 4, they'd also have to contend with a tremendous amount of guilt and whether they are able to handle that is akin to being shouted down by Jack Nicholson in A Few Good Men.



Except it'd be...

Conscience: You wanna go out?
You: I think I'm entitled to go out.
Conscience: You sure you can handle the guilt?
You: I'm entitled to freedom.
Conscience: You can't handle the guilt!

And have our lives changed as markedly as I'd so ominously predicted 6 1/2 years ago? Yes and in many more ways than those listed. Then I thought about how much sacrifice having one kid would be to our lifestyles. Never in my then existence did I imagine that I would have to at some point prepare to integrate 3 children into our lifestyles.

Technorati Tags: twins, having kids, sacrifices

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Sing my angel of music

Baby J has recently discovered her ability to sing. Totally off key but she tries hard to carry a tune. Evan is not so interested although he knows his sister can sing and will request for her to do so. If she's in a mood, she will accede to his request. If she isn't, she'll plain ignore it.

Here, with help, she makes attempts at "Row-row-row-a-boat" with actions and all. I like the end flourish where she tries to add a note with her trumpet which she also just recently learnt to do albeit with much drool dripping out at the end of the trumpet.




Hopefully she learns to carry a tune at some point, unless she is destined to follow in her mother's tone deaf footsteps rather than her father's tuneful ones. Time will tell.


Technorati Tags: twins, singing

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Assuaging guilt

So what does a mom do when she's missing her children, feeling bad that she isn't there to do anything fun with them and knowing that they're watching copious amounts of television because that's grandma's way of getting them to rest?

She combs through old magazines, cuts out alphabets, cuts 13 vanguard note cards into half and starts making alphabet flashcards for them. Why? Has this recent quarantining caused her to lose some marbles and decide hot housing her children was the way to make up for lost time?

Nope. Both kids like letters and and they've started showing an interest in trying to identify the alphabets and singing parts of the alphabet song off tune. So I thought instead of constantly having to write the alphabets on scraps of paper that keep getting thrown away for them, I would make them slightly sturdier cards that will last maybe about a week. And since they're made out of scraps, when (and they will) they get destroyed, I'll just chuck 'em and make up a new batch if so required.

My only problem is that I haven't been able to find a good sized J, Q, V, X and Z. I might have to pen those in with a fat felt tip marker if they elude me any longer.
























Technorati Tags: twins, H1N1, quarantine, learning the alphabets

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