Breaking the habit

The clock is ticking toward their second birthday and I constantly marvel at how much the twins have grown. I can't remember what they were like as infants. Packrat assures me they were absolute horrors. I am blessed with what is known as Mummy-amnesia, thankfully.

I am keenly aware though that because they are two, certain things that they do should be stopped. Right off the top of my head,

1. Both need to stop with the comfort devices.
Jordan with her pacifier and Evan with his duck and thumb. It is more imperative for Jordan because pretty soon she's going to be able to whistle through the gap of her front teeth. And the dentist did warn that excessive pacifier-ing will cause her top and bottom teeth not to meet. I worry that it'll cause her teeth to rot. And the girl is incredibly dependent on it to console herself and to sleep. It annoys me to no end that she's so conditioned to have it. There are many triggers, the minute she gets into the car, she asks for it. She'll touch her lip and ask for her "pear". When she sees her stuffed bear/elephant, she'll ask for it. The moment she's bathed after she gets home from school. And sometimes, while she's sleeping and I've unceremoniously yanked it out of her mouth, she'll cry for it. It's like a drug to her. She whimpers very specifically for it and is the first thing she looks around for when she wakes up. I've just managed to get her to give it to me by telling her that it is "chou chou" (stinky) and I need to put it into the basin for a wash.


Evan's attachment to the duck is just as strong. He misses it when he is at school. I know this because the first thing he'll ask for in the car, on the way home is "Duck Duck". And duck must be paired off with his thumb. I'm less perturbed about his little thumb fetish because he stops sucking it once he's asleep. And even though he does that, he has a raisin sized callus on his thumb.


2. Waking up for feeds.
The Nazi sleep trainers out there will be aghast that my almost 2 year-olds still wake for feeds. More Jordan than Evan. Most nights, he's happy to sleep from half 8 till 6 before he wants a feed. Jordan will do the unceremonious 3 am wake up call which I hate and growl at once it cackles over the baby monitor. So two nights ago, I decided enough was enough, traipsed right over to her room and told her in no uncertain moments that she wasn't going to get milk till 5 am and she could have a drink of water and then had to go back to bed and wait for 5 am to come. Whimpering alternated with howling for a good 90 minutes ensued within which Evan woke up and joined in the festivities. The books tell me that I need to do it for a few nights to really train their tummies to not wake up for a tiny midnight feed. But when she cries for milk, all on our floor will hear her and Ah Ma will wonder what cruel thing is being done to her darling grandchild.

3. Toilet Training
Not that it's a bad habit. In fact, the converse. We've been trying to get them to sit on the potty. To do it on the potty. They won't. Sometimes, Jordan will sit on the toilet seat and occasionally poop and pee in it but it's not a regular thing. They do however know to tell us that they have poop in their diaper. But usually only after the deed is done. The trick is for them to let us know ahead of time. Evan however, uses poop and the need for the potty as a get out of jail free card. When he doesn't want to be in bed, he ask for the potty and he'll declare in all faux earnestness that he needs to poop. One day, I shall tell the boy the story of the boy who cried wolf.

Of the three, No. 2 is the top on my list. And even despite my complaint about money, toilet training sits prettily at No. 3 because it doesn't interfere with sleep and it doesn't have potential ill dental effects that will cost thousands of dollars down the line. So, I will tackle one at a time and hopefully resolve at least one of them by the time they blow out their candles.

Technorati Tags: twins, pacifiers, midnight feeds, toilet training

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Messing with the brain

When I climbed back into the bed about 4.30 am this morning after giving Baby J her bottle, Packrat rolled over in his sleep and wrapped his arms round me. How nice, I thought, as I slowly drifted back to sleep. Only to have him whisper urgently into my ear. I strained, thinking perhaps he was trying to be frisky despite all other signs of being extremely unawake pointing away from it.

Packrat: It's very important. We have work to do.
Me (puzzled and wondering what weird ass dream he was having): What work?
Packrat: We have homework.
Me (Man! Is this a school dream? All ideas of frisk definitely jumping ship): Homework?
Packrat: Yes, sandwich homework.
Me (Obviously, the husband's subconscious is of the bizarro but determined to make full use of it): Sandwich homework? Peanut butter and jelly? Kaya? Or Nutella?
Packrat: All.
Me: We better start cracking them.
Packrat: Eggs.

Right. Obviously not a conversation worth pursuing. But it sure made me hungry and awake enough to chuckle at 5 in the morning.

Technorati Tags: twins, sleep

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Mommy vs Money

My six months of sabbatical are almost up. That means I have to decide whether to go back to work soon. The issues are typical. Money (Tangible, materialistic) vs quality time and quality of life (intangible, soul-enriching). I'm quite a control person. I like things within my control. When I saw our bank statements and the realisation of how this dream of being a Stay-At-Home-Mom was seriously hemorrhaging our savings, Little Miss Control Freak panicked.

Did I need to go back to teaching? Packrat pointed out that I was a much nicer person and a much better mom while I have lived the life of a non-teacher. But can we afford for me to be a non-teacher for much longer? Then there is the whole larger picture of perhaps I should find something I really want to do with my life and start working towards that. Problem? I don't particularly know what I want to do with my life. A simpler proposal was just to be a good mom for these couple of years and be there for the kids while they are at their most sponge-like times (i.e. now) and make the best out of it, for them and for myself. I like the third option best but I'm realistic enough to know I can't make it work if I'm not earning an income. And I'm realistic enough to know that with play school fees, car and house payments as well as helper salary and levy, we can't live on one civil servant's salary unless that was a Superscale salary and Packrat laugh hysterically at that thought.

So what am I left to do? Sell my soul and return to something that makes in inherently unhappy but allows me to provide financially for my family? The very pragmatic in society will tell me with a sigh that young people nowadays want everything. Good paying salaries for jobs they enjoy and that is a pipe dream. I should suck it up, just like our parents did for us.

But I also know enough to question what is the point of being able to make enough if that is going towards sending the kids to full day play school because Mom isn't home when they wake from their naps in the afternoon? And what is the point of buying them a whole ton of toys and books if Mom isn't there to play it with them and read it to them? Even now, sometimes, I leave them to their own devices or their other caregivers while I sneak in some chill time or some work time and those times, I feel guilty as hell because I haven't really reconciled the fact that a good mother doesn't need to spend every breathing moment doing something with her kids.

Packrat's final words on the subject however were reassuring. We have enough savings for a while yet. And I'm not squandering it on the new season Kate Spades and at the spa. I'm using it so that I can be with the kids. And that to him is the definition of good and responsible stewardship of money. Now, I can't argue with that logic and the rest of it, in his opinion will sort itself out.

Technorati Tags: parenthood, SAHM

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Up above the sky so high

I grew up with two brothers. So, I have a strange affinity to aircraft and submarines. It must have been all those Top Trumps games we used to play. That affinity led to me being the only girl in my class and possibly my standard to be reading Tom Clancy novels and knowing what the abbreviations ICBM, MIRV, SS-8 etc stood for.

So, it shouldn't be a surprise that I took much joy in Evan's obsession for anything that took flight. Planes, helicopters, fighter jets. We soon discovered he liked helicopters over planes, possibly because they flew slower and he could see them for longer. That and the fact that our house seem to sit within the flight path of helicopters in training where they'd fly up, loop somewhere ahead of us and come right back. The boy soon learnt to distinguish planes from helicopters and also to say "helicopter". He'd strain to look up into the sky right to the point where they disappeared out of sight and then pronounce "no more".

And since there were two, well only 2 that I could distinguish, types of helicopters we taught him that the one with the longer body with two rotor blades was the Chinook. Perhaps it is because he is a boy or perhaps it's because he's sponge-like right now and parroting everything, he's picked it up quite quickly.



And just as I'm uploading this, he's at the back yelling "No more Chinook" as one roars by.


Technorati Tags: twins, speech development

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Shut down production

It has finally arrived. Or rather I have chosen for it to be so. The factory has closed down. After 22 months and 3 weeks. It has been a long time coming. But so I've been told, because it has been going on for a long time, it takes a long time to shut off the supply, or rather dwindle the supply to the point where the body goes "Oh! This is a waste of time!"

Why now after all the dawdling? In February I was on my way there. Between then and now, there have been a series of signs that have basically indicated that it is indeed time.

1. The breast pump that I was reliant one, which I must add is the best thing in the world and I'd buy another one in a heart beat (of course if there really was another heart beat, I really would have to get another one) had to be returned. I had my own but I wore it down using it five times a day for more than a year. So I had to borrow one.

2. The back up breast pump I had gave up the ghost too. It started to make strenuous croaking and wheezing noises every time I tried to use it.

3. I had that serious eye infection that required serious medication, all of which were breastfeeding unfriendly. So the milk had to be tossed.

4. My periods are really hay wire so much so that I thought I was pregnant and I don't need that kind of heart attack every other month or so. Especially when the kids are particularly difficult, the sheer thought of being pregnant and adding another one to the fray scares the beejeezus out of me.

5. I'm actually tired of having to express. I hated that I had disappear up to my room 3-4 times a day when there were other things I could do. Or that I had to wake up earlier just so that I could express before going out. Or sleep later for the same reason.

6. I want to go back down to my original boob size and wear nice bras. The Bonds nursing bras that I have washed and worn every day for the last 2 years have been comfortable, convenient, decent looking and the best nursing bras ever, but they are not slinky and cannot be worn with spaghetti strap tops. I miss nice bras and strapless bras and the clothes that I can wear with them!

So, once I got to the point where it was a chore I was no longer willing to do and my conscience wasn't loud enough to make me feel guilty anymore, I decided it was time. After all, I have breastfed longer than I meant to and I think it is quite a feat to have kept the twins completely breastfed for 18 months and partially breastfed after that not out of necessity but to start the process of gradually getting them used to formula and fresh milk.

The only thing to do now is to shut down the freezer that still contains I suspect enough milk to get them all the way to the 2 year mark and then it is done. And I shall rest.


Technorati Tags: twins, breastfeeding

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This is the way...

How to administer a suppository to a feverish two-year-old at 4 am in the morning?

Let her play with a still-foiled condom.












2 nights of sleep deprivation... I leave you to fill in the rest of the gaps.



Technorati Tags: twins, medicine, fever

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Twin Speak

According to some of the literature out there about cognitive and speech development in twins, there is a higher chance that they will develop

1. Idioglossi- which is the secret language between the twinlets where they used simpler language and fewer words to communicate with one another. This apparently happens when they are left to play with themselves rather than have an adult to mediate their play.

2. Stuttering and other late onset of speech signs. It is apparently necessary to not just take it easy at their speech delay and assume that they will eventually catch up.

So, are my twins at risk of speech delay and Idioglossi? I don't really know but I suspect not. By 24 months, they are supposed to have more than a 50 word vocabulary so I think we are well on our way. But it is hilarious to see them yammer at one another but occasionally making sense.

These are of Evan describing what little objects he had made with the dough.





And this is them, playing, chatting and fighting before bedtime. Baby J is in an oversized t-shirt because I decided as part of their wind down activities for the day before they go to bed, they would have access to a bag full of stuff I yanked out of my closet; old t-shirts, torn pashminas, strings of beads and swatches of cloth. It was the best time to do it because they get changed into their night clothes and diapers at that point too, so it all becomes part of it.




Look out for the words

1. Ball
2. Bib
3. No more
4. Row row
5. Oh no!
6. Duck Duck
7. No
8. Oh!
9. There!
10. Light!

and combinations of those words.

I need to also look for more exciting things to add into the bag of clothes. I realise my wardrobe consists primarily of t-shirts which aren't all that exciting for the twins. But until then, I'm going to enjoy watching them chat, bicker, joke and tease one another all in the name of sibling-hood.

Technorati Tags: twins, speech development

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Play doh

The last time I made play-doh, it turned mouldy and gross. Then someone told me I had to cook the play-doh in order to preserve it. That was what I did today. The recipe I found went along the lines of

3 cups flour
1 cup salt
6 teaspoons cream of tartar
3 cups water
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
Food colouring

Mix flour, salt, and cream of tartar in a large saucepan. Blend water and oil together in a bowl. Add to the saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly until it thickens. Add several drops of food coloring until you get the right color. Cook for about five minutes. Take the play dough out of the saucepan and put it on a cutting board or counter and knead for a few minutes. Add flour if it's too sticky. I also added in food essence to make the dough smell nice. So, the red dough had a rose essence to it and the green one vanilla.

I must admit I had a lot of fun cooking it. It was therapeutic to stir the dough mixture and there was some thrill to be had when the mixture peeled off the sides of the pot signalling that the dough was almost done. The kneading that followed made me feel like I was in a steam bath of sorts because of the heat seeping through my palms from the dough and warming me up from the inside on what could only be described as a hot day.
















The twins having experienced to dough in school knew exactly what to do with it. Using the cookie cutters on it and imprinting shapes, rolling it into balls and declaring it so. I've been told that it's necessary for them to play with dough as it develops the fine muscles in the hand as well as their imagination. And true enough, taking the rolled up pieces that we declared to be oars of a boat, both started chanting (they haven't developed the concept of tune yet) "row-row boat"













Perhaps it's an age thing but making their dough and preparing everything for them to play sure took longer than the time they actually played with it, before wondering off and leaving a Hansel and Gretel trail of dough bits round the garden.


Technorati Tags: twins, play dough, kids activities

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Milk-a-cino

100 % au naturale, no preservatives, low fat, DHA fortified and high in calcium.


Of course, Starbucks wouldn't think this to be very funny.


Technorati Tags: twins, breastfeeding

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For grandmas, grandaunts and godmas

I want to say it is a day that doesn't mean anything to me because every day should be a day where mums are acknowledged, appreciated and every day should be a day that we should relish in the thought of being a mum. But all mums know it's hard to be all mushy about our children when we're chasing after them, bone-tired, frustrated at having to break up the nth fight for the day or our brains are dribbling out of our ears from singing "The Wheels On the Bus" for the millionth time. And more often than not, our kids don't know enough to be grateful and appreciative of the fact that our social lives have been dialled down to almost nothing and we are constantly sleep-deprived.

That said, I decided that I needed to put the cynicism aside and teach my kids the importance to show the appreciation to those who look after them and later on those who teach them. This possibly stems from teaching the ungrateful offspring of others who don't know their "Please" from their "thank you"s.

Of course, with 22-month-olds, gratitude is an alien concept. But they got that something important was happening seeing that they got to stay out late on Friday night at dinner and their messy destructiveness was required by Mommy to help make presents. I decided on getting them to make something that wasn't too far removed from what they'd usually do. And what they usually do is make a mess of things. Activities don't usually go the way I want them to. Paints are squished instead of put on paper. Paper is torn and ripped instead of being drawn on. Blocks are strewn instead of being built.

So, I gave them all sorts of coloured paper and let them tear and shred it into bits. The bits were all collected and put into his and hers containers; lest they fight over it. The point was for them to toss and throw the shredded paper around where I'd laid laminating paper sticky side up. Both kids were annoyed though, at the fact that they were unsuccessful in making a further mess out of the strewn paper bits. The rest was up to Packrat and I though, where we made a last minute dash to Ikea to get photo frames and coloured paper and worked past midnight cutting stars out of the laminated mess, pasting them onto coloured paper and framing them up.











It had a nice colourful feel to it, it wasn't store-bought and the kids knew that they had made it and were most proud of it. Once again, the cynical me thinks that it'll just sit around and collect dust but the mommy part of me is happy to give these to the grandmas, grand aunts and godmas who have spent so much time with the twins and this is the least I could do to thank them on behalf of the twins on Mother's Day.

What did the twins get me? Nothing. Because I was too tired to make something on behalf of them for myself and that would just be plain silly.



Technorati Tags: twins, Mother's day

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An ice cream a day...

The twins hate thunderstorms. Evan more than Jordan. But once Evan starts fussing, Jordan follows suit since she must not lose out on the attention that is to be got. So 5 am this morning, when thunder, in my friend Jeanette's words..." sounding like boulders falling down stairs" amplified across the skies, both kids decided they needed Mommy and Daddy. This meant the entire family squashed into our usually sufficiently spacey enough king sized with both parents being kicked and punched in the face and other places as well as treated to the early morning conversations between the 2.

Neither Packrat nor I could fathom how the twins, who had slept late the night before could be so chirpy at 5 in the morning while we were hissing at them to get back to sleep. We also knew that there would be payback for these early morning conversations. True enough, the twins who eventually dozed off at half six and woke an hour later spent the entire day cranky and whiny. Everything set them off, in the most dramatic of manners.


















Thankfully, they managed a long-ish nap which reset their systems and moods a little bit. But what eventually did the trick was a tiny scoop of ice cream for both of them. This marks their first time really eating ice cream, discounting the time when they were three months old and were given ice cream because it was "milk", much to my horror.

Evan had a bit of problem at first because I think his brain froze. He kept intoning that it was cold. Jordan took to it like a fish to water and finished every drop.



I'm also thankful, it's almost the end of the day so maybe tomorrow will be a bit better. As long as God doesn't go bowling tonight and boulders don't tumble down the stairs again.

Technorati Tags: twins, thunderstorm, ice cream

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Vanity is thy name

Everyone who has met Baby J has asked if she's taken after her mother and is vain. For the record, I was not a vain girl. In fact, I was the opposite of that. I had to be taught to wear socks that matched and socks that matched my shoes and dress. I climbed trees, ran around barefoot, caught spiders and fought with boys. So, no, I was anything but vain. Vanity was something I discovered much later. I think in my final year of university when all of a sudden, it was make-up, skin care and clothes. Manicures and facials only became something necessary after I got married.

So whether Baby J takes after me? Which me would be the question. But is she vain? I guess the short answer to that is yes. As vain as a two year old can be.

She has learnt to dictate what she wants to wear, to go out, at home, to sleep, on her hair, on her feet. Everything. Of course, her taste often leaves much to be desired but she does insist on her own style. Whether it be pairing a pair of boots with a dress or wearing her brother's shoes and jeans, she does know how to insist.























So, I can't really be shocked that when I went to pick her up today and discovered her face to be covered with face paint and her finger nails painted! They had a party in school today for Boys' Day (also known as Kodomo No Hi) and I suppose one of the things they did during the party was to paint faces, both boys and girls. She must have loved it!

I must admit that while I am particular that both she and Evan are dressed properly and in nice clothes while out, the painted fingernails really threw me off. There was something distinctly unsettling to see such tiny fingernails painted in hot red nail polish. Perhaps it is my mother's voice in my head intoning as she did when I occasionally bugged her about wanting to play with make-up and nail polish that they were meant for adults and little girls were too young to be playing with things like that.























And I bemoan the fact that I have to use nail polish remover to take it off. The fumes! What did amuse me was while trying to capture her 'painted-now-and-not-in-another-15-years' nails was being able to finally photograph them with her fiery red talons curled round a football.

But no, not again. I hope not to see nail polish on her nails for another decade and a half and even then, it won't be a day too soon!

Technorati Tags: twins, girls

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Spoonerisms

The boy's verbal pick up rate is remarkable. Everyday he picks up new words and every day, we see more and more evidence of logic in this 22 month old. He never fails to astound us. Or crack us up.

Some gems that I must never forget.

Me: Evan, where do you want to go?
Evan: Take Bus.
Me: Where do you want to take the bus to?
Evan: Take bus go park.
Me:What do you want to do at the park?
Evan: Walk walk fish uhm!

We go to the Botanic Garden to feed the fish. And we've told him the fish go Uhm!

Me: Evan, what do you want to eat?
Evan: Bread
Me: Is the bread nice?
Evan: No appetite

But subsequently polishes off the slice of bread.

Evan: Close.
Me: Close what, Evan?
Evan: Close blinds. Star. Night night. Close.

At bed time, we pull down the blinds in his room so before he sleeps, all must be right, including the blinds.

Me: Evan, go to sleep.
Evan: No.
Me: Why?
Evan: Wet.
Me: Who is wet? Are you wet?
Evan: No. Gou Gou is wet. (Gou Gou is his big blue dog)
Me: Why is Gou Gou wet?
Evan: Milk milk make gou gou wet wet.

He likes to chew on the bottle teat, causing the milk to leak on whatever he is lying on, including the Big Blue Dog that takes up half his bed.

Me: Evan, is Papa in the room?
Evan: No.
Me: Is Papa at work?
Evan: No.
Me: Where is Papa?
Evan: Jogging.

According to him, Papa is jogging at all times of day and all the time. Papa does not do anything else but go jogging.

Even though the fountain is fixed, Evan still insists it is spoilt.

Me: Evan, is the fountain still spoilt?
Evan: Spoilt (the boy does not say "yes")
Me: Who spoilt the fountain?
Evan: Ah Chek's car. (Ah Chek is Packrat's brother and the offending car is a red Mazda 3)

After having gone swimming 2 days in a row (it has been that hot)

Me: Evan, where do you want to go?
Evan: Swimming pool
Me: Where is the swimming pool?
Evan: Macau
Me:How are we going to get to the swimming pool in Macau?
Evan: Take bus go park walk walk go Macau.

So apparently, air travel is optional to get to the swimming pool in Macau.







Technorati Tags: twins, speech development, heat in Singapore

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It's time to say goodbye

Amid all the talk about schools and registration and scary mothers who know all there is to know about these sorts of things, one thing seems to be left out. I don't recall hearing any of them talking about teachers. I mean, they talked about teacher-student ratios, they talked about teacher qualifications which are all well and good. Being a teacher myself, I know that there is a difference between a good teacher and a highly qualified teacher.

The school the twins go to has good teachers. They may not speak the most impeccable of English. In fact, it took me a while to accept that my kids' teachers spoke in present tense all the time. "Jordan cries after you left", "Evan eats his lunch today". But I couldn't ask for better teachers as the first pseudo-academic influences in the twins' lives. They cared for the twins, loved them and were extremely supportive of me when I was near tears every morning dropping the bawling kids off.

So it saddened me greatly to hear that both the twins' favourite teachers were being transferred to another branch. Their playgroup teacher as well as their beloved lao shi who was there every morning waiting for them, who greeted them with such glee that transcended language barriers (the twins, not mine) and would help me get them strapped into the car at the end of the school day. Part of me is worried that they will miss their teachers and react badly to the new replacements. The other part of me knows they will adapt as they have to other changes in their lives. This part of me, rather cynically, also knows that when they go to school proper, they will have to get used to the comings and goings of the teachers what with the constant stream of substitute teachers that sail through the classroom doors.

















Anyway, I felt this could not pass without the twins doing something for their teachers. Packrat and I are very big on teaching them humility and manners, with "please" and "thank you" being the hallmarks of such lessons. So, we set out making presents and cards for them. I'd bought some plywood cut outs from Spotlight for the twins to muck about with and decided that we could use them as gifts if we managed to paint them properly.

Painting them properly with 22-month-olds required a great amount of masking tape, to tape up the bits that we didn't want to be a particular colour. It also took a lot of effort since we had in our possession only paint of the three primary colours and brown is hard to mix with red, yellow and blue paint. Thankfully, I managed to come up with something relatively close to the brown I envisioned the plywood flower's stalk would be.

The end product was impressive, as was the card. All worthy for the teachers who were leaving. Of course, the touch ups were all me but I was quite impressed at Baby J's ability to hold the paint brush and paint the entire stalk brown.

Important tool for those who want to create something that doesn't fall victim to the wild, uncontrollable strokes of a toddler child? Masking Tape.

What saddened me was when I asked the twins whether they liked Teacher Chris and Lao Shi and both nodded their heads fervently. And the sad thing is that they will probably, by virtue of their age not remember these first teachers they had who loved them and whom they loved.

I guess it'll be up to me to remind them.

Technorati Tags: twins, teachers, school

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