Bitter Sweet Moments

Publisher’s Note: This is yet another embarrassingly long overdue posting of my jottings that was first written back in 9 November 2012.  Do stick with me whilst I dust off all my old writings that had been abandoned in the Draft folder and dig out precious old memories.

This just proves that time flies by in the blink of an eye, and if one puts off till tomorrow what one can do today, before one knows it, the subject-matters of the posting would have grown up considerably and one would have to live through embarrassing moments like this. ;-)

My baby girl's last day at kindiegarten

Milestones of a Different Kind

9th November 2012......a bitter sweet day.

On this memorable day, my oldest princess graduated from Primary School, whilst my youngest princess graduated from Kindergarten and to make it even more historic, the Little Man started his Montessori playschool this week for trial lessons. How time flies in just a blink of an eye!

It wasn't all that long ago when our First Princess started Primary School. I can vividly remember that very first morning when we left the house before 7 o'clock. As we stepped out of the house and into the car, our First Princess commented "Wah! Mummy..... it is still so dark. Are you sure it is morning already?". That was the start of many beautiful mornings when the First Princess and her Mummy would chit-chat along the way to school whilst admiring the gorgeous early morning skyline with its beautiful tinges of orange, peach, purple and blue.

Fast forward... and almost 6 years later.....Mr T has now taken over to be the primary chauffeur for the morning school runs whilst I run the later shift to take the Little Genius to kindergarten.

It was a rather sentimental drive to the Little Genius' kindergarten this morning as it began to sink in that it would be my last time to chauffeur my little girl to kindergarten. It would be our last kindergarten assembly together...I will miss listening to the carefree children singing their chinese nursery rhymes.They all somehow grow up too fast especially when they reach their primary school years. Sadly, this is also the time when even the slightest tinge of their baby smell totally dissipates to be replaced instead by smelly perspiration! 

Equally unbelievable is that our First Princess is graduating from Primary School. It doesn't seem all that long ago when I would rush to get out of the pressure-cooker that I was then in, to weave through the evening rush-hour traffic to pick my Princess from school. Sheer guilt would set in when I finally reach her school after 6 p.m., where very often, I would find my little girl obediently finishing up her school work in the canteen. Ex-colleagues used to brandish me for sending my kid to a Commando school that had longer hours than a normal working person with 9 - 5 hours! The school hours were officially from 7.30 to 4.15, with only a pathetic 30 minute lunch break. A large number of students would then have extra-activities or tutoring classes from 4.30 until 5.45. Over 10 hours of pure torture especially for those 7 - 8 year old's who had just graduated from kindergarten where life was so much more carefree! 

Needless to say, I have great pity for the young ones having to endure such extremely long hours as I originated from a "Malay national school" where school was for a maximum of 6 hours with little homework to contend with! It does sadden me that the Little Genius will now be leaving behind her carefree kindie days and entering the Commando school. However, Mr T favours the Commando school as he believes that it gives the younger ones very good discipline and toughens them up for the real world later. 

I digress. 

Today was also a historic day for another reason as my Little Man stepped out of his comfort zone when I packed him off to a nearby Montessori playschool for a week of trial lessons for a couple of hours each morning. The Little Man is approaching three years and clearly has an abundance of energy to burn off.  Him sticking to me like a blood-sucking leech all day and dancing & jumping all over me to burn off his excess energy was testing my patience and driving me a little insane. I badly needed some quiet ME time at home...with no kiddo going "Mummy this... Mummy that...! Mummy, Mummy!"

The Little Man was rather excited to go to school as it made him feel like he was a big boy like his sisters going to school. We walked around the playschool and checkout the facilities together. When I explained to him that I could only stay with him at school for a short while to read my newspapers after which I had to go home to prepare his lunch, he began to have second thoughts and the initial excitement quickly subsided. 

Needless to say, my blood-sucking leech held on to me for dear life for the good part of an hour whilst I hung around the playschool to ensure that my poor little leech would not be too traumatised by not having any of his mummy's blood to suck on for the 2 hours that he would be at playschool by himself. I virtually ignored him and just read my newspapers in a little corner of the playschool. My little leech did eventually wander around the playschool area to check out the rabbits in their cages, the wide array of toys as well as the other kids. At times, he wandered off a little further before suddenly realising that his host-parasite was no longer within his visibility and smelling-range. That was when he would come running back to check that I was still sitting in the corner with my newspaper. 

Just under an hour later, I made my escape. I thought I had succeeded in making a discreet exit through the main door of the house, but alas, I heard his screams "Mummy, Mummy, I want my Mummy!" as I opened the school gate to hop into my car. I sat in my car which was parked my the side of the school to ensure all was well before driving home. The hysterical screaming stopped after a few minutes but was instead replaced by heart-wrenching sobs from my Little Man.

He survived the 90 minutes along and I enjoyed the strangely quiet time at home.

My little leech survived the trial week largely unscathed. It was the same old story everyday during the trial week and during the one month holiday program. I'd eased his separation-anxiety by showing him that Mummy was going to park the car under that big tree right next to his playschool and read my newspaper in the car whilst waiting for him to enjoy himself in school. Of course, the intelligent little leech would always ask to see my stack of newspapers in the car for reassurance (which I always had handy); at times he would even remind me to bring the papers along just as we are about to leave home.

After attending the holiday program for about a week, the separation anxiety was much better...no more screaming...just a little teary eyed. The toughest part was to get him to leave the house as he would complain of being very tired and not wanting to change out of his pyjamas. Mid-way through the holiday program, I was able to just drop him at the gates, as he could see the other children saying goodbye to their Mums & Dads at the gates. Though a small part of me pined for the little baby that had just grown up in a few blinks of an eye, I definitely treasured the peace and quiet at home for the entire 3 hours!


Fast forward further to January 2013......

As the Little Genius has just entered the Commando School, my lunch partner has now reduced from a table for three, to a table for two. After picking the Little Man from playschool and freshening him up with a cool shower, the Little Man and I will settle down for lunch. If he is his usual happy self, we will have an enjoyable lunch for two. If he is overly exhausted and is in his whining, tantrum-throwing mood, then it'd be silence at the lunch table and my replacement lunch partner will be the faithful old newspaper.

I dread to think what it would be like in the next 3 or 4 years when the Little Man too enters the Commando School when it'll be a really sad & lonely table for one then.  I really missed my lunches and my interesting conversations with the Little Genius for those initial few weeks ...... like they say,  YOU JUST NEVER KNOW HOW TO REALLY TREASURE WHAT YOU HAVE UNTIL YOU HAVE LOST IT.

So now I really treasure my lunch time with my Little Man. Mr T voices his "enviousness" at the Little Man having the company of yours truly all for himself during lunch.

The Little Genius first few days at the Commando School went smoothly. Though she enjoyed herself as she was now in the same league as her older sister, she did complain about the extra long hours when she lamented "I keep looking at my watch, then think why so long the school bell still haven't ring yet...because I very sleepy in the afternoon. I wait and wait for the school bell to ring!".  Poor lil' girl.  Poor lil' girl who loves her afternoon naps.

Her severely depleted batteries would instantly go into recharge mode when she gets into the car and her personal chauffeur would have a real hard time waking her up once we reach home.

Recharging......spot the blackened knees from
a myriad of activities in school!

The highly popular mobile recharging unit

Fast forward further to January 2014......

I spoke too soon. Just one year on, my lunch company is already reduced to just me, my shadow and the faithful newspaper! We enrolled the Little Man in the same renowned Chinese kindergarten as the one that Mr T had gone to 39 years ago! As enrolment for the first session was already filled up when we registered, we enrolled the Little Man for the 
second session which starts in the late morning to mid-afternoon. This works to our advantage as the first session would have meant struggling to get the Little Man out of the house by 7.30 every morning.The late morning session allows the Little Man to get his beauty sleep, have a good, hearty breakfast, a little play time and a refreshing shower before taking a relaxing drive to school.

The downside is that I have lost my lunch company! The lunch table is now strangely quiet. Though it took a little getting used to after years of noisy lunches, I now use this time to catch up on reading my papers as well as meeting up with friends for lunch. And of course, it also provides me with treasured ME time, where I get to indulge in blogging and baking time!

Just like how it was with the Little Genius, the Little Man will have lots to update me with when I pick him up from school.  Stories that his teacher told him, who said what, and who did what to him in school, who was naughty, who cried, etc. Though the school does provide the Little Man with lunch, he always comes home asking to eat lunch, which by that time, really is afternoon tea. He literally gobbles down the food before he is sent to his bed for a short nap to recharge.

The day goes by so fast as the evening is then filled with chauffeuring the girls home from their Commando School and listening to their respective updates on their commando training for the day, whilst weaving through evening rush-hour traffic. As soon as we arrive home, I remove my chauffeur's hat and replace it with the no-nonsense time-keeper's hat! ..."...hurry up, shower,...hurry up, do your homework, ...hurry up, get ready...time for dinner, ...hurry up, finish your homework, ...hurry up,  pack your bags, ...hurry up, brush your teeth, ...hurry up, go to bed...".  I am always telling the girls that I really just ought to get a voice recorder that I can just switch on every day without having to work myself up!

Though I complain, I know that soon enough, all the chaos will soon end to be replaced by a different set of problems brought on by the teenage years, which Mr T and I are already getting daily doses of, courtesy of our First Princess. In years to come, the posting will probably just read Forgettable Moments. Till then, I will treasure these bitter sweet moments.


~ Written from the Heart
by a blessed Mother of Four who despite her complaints, is savouring all the bitter sweet moments.

Happy Birthday, SILs!

YABBA-DABBA-DOO!!  The Enchanted Lady, my youngest SIL, has just returned home for a short holiday to celebrate her birthday with us. She is a Aussie-based Medical Registrar and has just completed her last ever written medical exams for which she started studying for TWO whole years ago! She is THE most hardworking, dedicated student I have ever come across. Beats Mr T hands-down!

Here are some pictures taken from the recent double birthday celebration.

The Birthday Gals with PIL & MIL

My SILs with PIL & MIL ;-)

A Belated Yee-Sang celebration with the Enchanted Lady

The Birthday Gals!

Birthday Gals with the Little Man!

Happy Faces!

Happy Faces....extended version with cousins, aunt & uncle

     

       'BIL-to-be' couldn't make it for the celebrations, so he sent a bouquet of representatives to replace him

Smiling through mouth stuffed with durian cake

~ Pictorial Post proudly published by Mrs T

An Afternoon in the Life of a Personal Chauffeur

Whilst weaving through the notorious KL traffic, this Personal Chauffeur also has to juggle controlling her emotions and her temper, so as to manage her escalating blood pressure! Read on...


Date: Tuesday, 18 February 2014
Time: From 3.00 p.m. to 6.00 p.m.

3.00 p.m.: Chauffeuring Whining King home from school
Picked up the Little Man from nursery. He was his usual chatty self, telling me all about his day in school whilst I drove through traffic on the way home. He started talking about his friends' antics.
He moved on to talk about another classmate and that is when the entire drama began.
Little Man: "... there that small boy......what's his name, ah, Mummy?".
Driver: "Huh? Which one?"
Little Man: "There, that one, the small, small, boy. Yesterday that one."
Driver: "Joshua (the only small boy I know in his class as he was born year-end and is really tiny. And he was THE only boy I had bumped into yesterday when I dropped the Little Man at school)".
Little Man: "No, not Joshua."
Driver: "If not Joshua, then Mummy doesn't know."
Little Man: "There, that one, the small, small, one. Yesterday that one."
Driver: "I don't know, Darling".
... and he went on and on and on and on.

The Little Man suddenly got all worked up because his Mum just did not know the name of "that small, small one [boy]". He started kicking the back of my driver's seat and starts whining and crying and whining and crying......all I can hear between his sobs are "There, that one, the small, small, one.". The whining and crying went on endlessly.

I looked into my rear-view mirror and see The Whining King sitting in the Little Man's car-seat. For a moment, I actually wondered if I had picked up the wrong kid!! It was that bad!
Guess there are just no limits for a frustrated, hungry & tired kid!

Annoyance and frustration kicked in for both driver and passenger. Big time.
Chauffeur went into automatic lecture mode.
"LOOK, Mummy only knows 5 of your friends' names. CH (his best friend), M, KY, A and J. Mummy doesn't know anyone else. Why do you want to get angry at Mummy and throw your temper-tantrum? If you don't know your friend's name, just ask your friend or your teacher. Don't throw your temper-tantrum. JUST STOP WHINING."

Apart from the occasional sniff, there was total silence in the car for the remaining 500 metres before reaching home.

Upon reaching home, my helper greeted His Majesty at the doorway. That started off The Whining King again and his siren blared even louder. Whine...whine...whine...whine...whine. 
Totally Unbearable. 
I told my helper to ignore The Whining King.  I regret not recording the entire drama on video. That would have been pure entertainment for you.

He continued to whine, inter-spaced by his sobs.  I dutifully and silently served him his favourite Spaghetti Bolognese for his afternoon tea. His siren continued to blare. I gave him the choice of eating, or foregoing one of his favourite meals and going straight to bed. I then walked away to regain my sanity.

A couple of minutes later, I heard the clink-clanking of cutlery. I slowly made my way back into the dining room. Lo and behold, it was the Little Man who greeted me, behaving as though nothing had happened in the preceding 30 minutes. I quickly looked around; there was no sign of The Whining King. Unbelievable. The Little Man licked his platter spotlessly clean.

Needless to say, he fell asleep for his afternoon nap as soon as his head touched his pillow.

Peace. Alleluia.


4.30 p.m.: Chauffeuring 'Princess of the Day' home from school
As soon as the Little Man got to Dreamland, I jumped into my car and zoomed off to pick Kiddo 3 from school. I normally pick the girls together but today was an exception, as Kiddo 3 had an extended 1 hour violin class at an earlier than normal time. With the kids still having their on-off prolonged cough since the start of the year, I wanted to ensure that Kiddo 3 who had the weakest immune system, had as much sleep as she could. If it meant having to make an additional trip to town to chauffeur her home to shower and eat her dinner before her music class so that she could sleep just that one hour earlier, so be it. The alternative would have been for Kiddo 3 to shower 30 minutes before bedtime, hence pushing back her bedtime and risk her catching a chill from showering late at night and worse, risk the dreaded cough from returning with a vengeance.  After all, I did decide to quit my corporate job to be a personal chauffeur, amongst others (huh, I must have been insane at the time....blame it on post-natal hormones running haywire)!

Kiddo 3 was as happy to see me, as I was to see her after the earlier drama. We had a lovely mother-daughter chat all the way home.  No issues. No drama. For this simple reason, she is the 'Princess of the Day' .
(By the way, in case any of my other under-aged employers are reading this, 'Princess of the Day' is not a fixed term for Kiddo 3. It just so happens that there was no drama surrounding her for today and we had a "yabba-dabba-doo"time.)

The Powers Above were really kind to me today.  Traffic was unusually smooth ... no traffic build-up near school. Managed to do a round trip within 40 minutes during school peak hour. Very, very unusual.


5.15 p.m.: Picking Sulky Teen from school

After dropping Kiddo 3 home and giving my helper strict instructions to ensure that Kiddo 3 showers immediately followed by early dinner, I zoom off to pick Kiddo 1 from school. The onward journey from Kiddo 1's school to Kiddo 2's school started of well... that is, until I asked her about lunch. When I heard that Kiddo 1 only picked out tofu, pak choy, cabbage and egg for lunch from a wide range of dishes, I immediately visualised a pathetic plate of plain white rice, with little bits of tofu, pak choy, cabbage and egg.  It would surely have been just a small portion of what she would normally eat. I almost went ballistic.

She admitted that apart from processed meat (Mr T strongly discourages the kids from eating processed meats. Sausages are the biggest NO, NO.), there was actually meat in the choice of dishes available but "I just didn't feel like it". So that was it. My old, faithful voice-recorder went on auto-pilot and started playing again and again ...."you must have a balanced diet, cannot be choosy, don't like also must eat, just carbs with no protein will not help you to grow taller, put on weight, reach puberty, blah...blah...you are desperate to put on weight, right? so you must have a balanced diet, cannot be choosy, don't like also must eat,........". Needless to say, as soon as the good ol' voice-recorder went on auto-pilot, I had a sulky teen, pouting away in the passenger seat next to mine.

Why did I go ballistic? Yes, perhaps on hindsight, I did react a little Over.The.Top. 
Perhaps it was all that zooming around town in the sweltering heat. 
Perhaps I caught The Whining King's bug. 
Or, perhaps I was just being an overly concerned mother.

You see, Kiddo 1 is very thin. Chopstick thin. There have been many a time when I have been interrogated by well-meaning strangers as to whether I actually feed Kiddo 1! The truth is she does eat. She eats a lot actually. But she IS an extremely fussy eater! Perhaps that is why she just can't put on any weight. She only eats what she is accustomed too and is not at all adventurous when it comes to food! That's a NO to a lot of the super foods out there, including NO mushrooms, NO sea cucumber, NO white/black fungus, NO fat (she will diligently scrape off all fat found lingering on chicken & pork pieces) and definitely nothing gooey nor suspicious looking.

As Kiddo 1 is in her vital growing teenage years, Mr T and I have been reminding (borderline lecturing!) her the importance of having a balanced meal which includes the Super Foods, to ensure that she receives all the vital nourishment during this time as that is when she will experience her growth spurts, develop her womanly curves and reach puberty. She has also expressed her anxiety at the fact that she is one of the last of her friends to reach puberty. I have consulted my gynaecologist on this and she assures me that there is no need to worry until and unless one does not have her first menses by the time one turns 16. Only then will they investigate.  Nonetheless, it is a cause for concern. 

So, if you have any ideas on how to "FIX" my fussy Chopstick and help her to attain puberty, drop me a note! Anxiety levels are peaking as her 14th birthday fast approaches.

5.45 p.m.: Picking up Ms What,lah! from school

Straight after picking up Sulky Chopsticks, the Chauffeur's next assignment was to pick up Ms What,lah! from school. Ms What,lah! is the new pseudonym given to Kiddo 2 after she relinquished her Whining Championship title to her brother. Since turning 9, she has learnt to answer back more, and is very defensive in her response to almost anything. Before one has a chance to finish speaking, she would almost always have something to say to rebut whatever one may be speaking about.  And when she is unable to provide a fast enough response, she would just blurt out, "WHAT,LAH!?". Needless to say, this has scored her many one-to-one lectures especially with her dear Daddy.

I digress.

After exchanging pleasantries with Ms What,lah!, we began talking about her day at school and she immediately lamented on how hungry she was at lunchtime. "Huh?...Didn't Mummy pack enough food for you?" came the Chauffeur's reply. Ms What,lah! then explained that her Class Teacher had kept many of the students back during the pathetically short 30 minute lunch break as she wanted them to re-do their Mandarin spelling until they got it all correct. 

As a result, Ms What,lah! who together with a few of her friends, were the last in the queue to get their exercise books marked, missed the entire 30 minute lunch break, as the Teacher wanted to mark their work and ensure their spelling was all correct before allowing them to fill up their rumbling stomach with some much needed food! It was only when the bell rang to signify the end of their lunch break that they were allowed by Ms Psycho to go for lunch!! I was fuming mad! Really fuming mad. 

I asked Ms What,lah! what happened to those of her classmates whose parents did not send lunch over to school as the canteen would surely have run out of food by then.  She told me of her best friend who ended up eating just a couple of biscuits that she had in her school bag for her lunch. Upon hearing this, my blood started to reach boiling point.

Needless to say, I conveyed my displeasure to politically correct Mr T and asked him to convey our displeasure in a gentlemanly manner as I knew I would lose my cool if I approached Ms Psycho myself. Mr T agreed and conveyed our strong views on depriving the poor students of their lunch to Ms Psycho the next morning when he sent the girls to school. He suggested to Ms Psycho that the students should be allowed to have a quick lunch first, before going back to the class to re-take their spelling test.

Ms Psycho must have taken note of the matter as since our complaint, Ms Psycho has allowed Ms What,lah! and her classmates to have lunch for a full 600 seconds before summoning those who did not score full marks for their spelling, back to the classroom. Once they have re-taken their spelling test, and score full marks for it, they are allowed to resume their lunch break for whatever remaining lunchtime that is left. This happens every single school day! I pity those poor 10 year old school kids!

Perhaps I should start a petition with the other school parents that Ms Psycho be allowed to only have 600 seconds to eat her lunch!!!

Editor's note: To be fair, Kid#2 has stopped snapping "What, lah!" for the last couple of weeks. Perhaps I should now label her the Come-back Kid, because on the following day, she scored a perfect score in her Chinese spelling and was able to eat her lunch for the entire 30 minutes.

6.40 p.m.: Walk Kiddo 3 to her music class
After all that drama, I was more than happy to walk the 'Princess of the Day' to her music class and be kid-free for the 8 minute walk back from the music school back to the Zoo. Eight minutes of peace and quiet. Treasured right up to the last second.


So there we have it.
Uncontrollable temper tantrums.
Sulky teen, pouting away.
Starved by an unreasonable teacher.
Growing Pains. Multiply 4 times.


Here's a video I found of the The Little Man when he first started to master the art of whining almost 2 years ago. He has since been crowned champion.  Fingers crossed, he will soon relinquish the title to some other unknown kid out there.
P.S. Listen out for Kiddo 3 enjoying her brother's "limelight"!!

To Cut or not to Cut?

The Abashed Editor's note: This post was originally drafted way back in 15 October 2012 and was sadly abandoned in the draft folder for unknown reasons. The dust has since been embarrassingly wiped off, minor grammatical edits carried out with the necessary polishing prior to posting almost 16 months after the events described below took place. Better late than never...please do bear with me.

***************************************************************************************

I spoke too soon.
Not long after finishing off my original draft for my "Hold My Hand" posting, the Little Man rapidly moved up a couple of notches on the Cheekiness Scale. The crazy thing is that one of my SILs (acronym for sister-in-law) and I have noticed that after every haircut, the Little Samseng seems to get naughtier and more daring in his stunts! I know it is hard for anyone to imagine, but trust me, it is so true. So much so, that I am now so weary of taking the Little Samseng for his next haircut! Perhaps I should just let him grow his hair out and let him rock the world as a Little Hippie!

Here's the proof after his latest haircut:

1. The Little Samseng took a small stick from who-knows-where at GrandPa (Yeh-yeh) and GrandMa's house and put it in his mouth after dinner one night. GrandMa immediately told him off before reporting his mischief to Mr T and I as we were enjoying some quiet time at the dinner table. The Little Man was duly punished when we reached home as Mr T locked him outside the house in the garage and reprimanded him for a whole five minutes.

The next day, whilst the Little Samseng and I were on our way to pick the Little Genius from kindergarten, we drove past a police rider who had stopped a car by the side of the road. The Little Man promptly said" Mummy, see Policeman ... Policeman catch Daddy ... then giggled to himself. When I stared at him from my rear-view mirror, he then said "policemen, catch Mummy also!" whilst chuckling to himself.


2.The Daily Afternoon Warfare
This October month has been a constant struggle with the Little Samseng to keep to his sleeping routine, i.e. sleeping till at least 9.00 a.m. in the mornings and a 2 hour nap every afternoon. Since that fateful day when we brought him for his latest haircut, the Jackyl in him has taken a back step whilst Mr Hyde is on full display! He now punctually wakes up between the timeframe of 7.45 and 8.10a.m. and his afternoon nap has not reached anywhere the 60 minute mark so far this month! As a result, the Little Samseng now closely resembles Kungfu Panda whilst his blessed mother's already short wick is getting shorter and the fuse is ready to blow up at anytime!

The Little Panda would come up with a string of excuses to not sleep and this had tested my patience to its maximum. His excuses would range from stomach ache (his all time favourite, and the complaint would almost always be accompanied by some sort of wriggling in pain action on the floor), drink water, see Yeh-Yeh, etc.  Dynamites have been exploding left, right and centre for the first ten days of October. I am slowly learning to accept that certain things just can't be changed, so I just need to adapt and accept that I will have very little ME time for at least the next five years.

Before the warfare started this afternoon, I told the Little Samseng to "sleep for so, so long, otherwise I will tell Pin Ku-Ku and Ta Ku-Ku not to give you any Kungfu Panda chocolates (which Ta Ku-Ku had just bought for them from Beijing). The Little Samseng responded to say " I like Yeh-Yeh. I kiss Yeh-Yeh, then Yeh-Yeh give Ching Tom Kungfu Panda chocolate." Upon hearing my response that "Mummy will then tell Yeh-Yeh not to give Ching Tom any chocolate", the Little Samseng replied with a smirk on his face "I kiss Yeh-Yeh two times then Yeh-Yeh give Ching Tom Kungfu Panda chocolate!".

Now, do you sympathise?


3. Ninja Warrior

Lately, the Little Genius, the Little Samseng and their Loyal Slave have been glued to Ninja Warrior on Disney XD channel every weekday lunch time. It is amazing how the urge to watch Ninja Warrior can inspire the Little Genius to gobble up her lunch within 30 minutes (as she is barred from watching it if she exceeds that time frame). Whilst watching the programme, the Little Samseng's vivid imagination always leads him to believe that the living room sofa chairs, stools and his Loyal Slave are part of the obstacles on the Ninja Warrior course.
Just this afternoon, as I was prepping the Cheeky Samseng for his afternoon nap, he proudly proclaimed himself as the Ninja Warrior and pointed at his Loyal Slave and proclaiming her as "Mummy is Naughty Warrior"!.


I am convinced that The Powers Above intentionally bestowed on all babies and toddlers that irresistable baby smell as it really does act like and antidote for me. When the Little Samseng tries to light up the short wick on my dynamite, my nose will instinctively find its way near to the Little Samseng's rock solid head to get a good sniff of his baby smell. Those couple of sniffs immediately act like an antidote and calms me down and halts my blood pressure from rising any further. Unfortunately, it does not work all the time especially now as he grows older and the irresistable baby smell is partially replaced by the unmistakable sweat of the the Ninja Warrior!!


~ Written by a walking dynamite who is very blessed to have the Little Samseng as her son.

Learning to lose the small battles to win the war

Lately, the stress levels at the Zoo has been escalating due partly to this being the final term exams period. My temper levels have also being soaring from having to deal with a variety of service issues involving the outsourcing of my domestic cleaning services to my Personal Assistant. My hectic schedule juggling jobs as a personal chauffeur, kitchen stockist, personal tutor and managing my lunch catering business for my two exclusive young clients coupled with my "I-can-do-it-all-don't-want-to-let-go-attitude", has meant that ME TIME and lunch outings with friends have been put way down the bottom of my To Do list, until recently.

It was therefore a much welcomed breath of fresh air when I went out on two lunch dates for two consecutive weeks with a mixture of old friends. I particularly enjoyed my first lunch date with a good friend of mine; our boys share the exact same birth date, less than 12 hours apart. We exchanged stories of our little menaces, their individual milestones and their missions to test their Mummy's boundaries! Though she raised an eye-brow or two when I told her of the corporal punishments that I mete out on my Zoo inhabitants ranging from the ages of 3 to 13, she could feel my exasperation at the various battles that I have to deal with on a daily basis with my four beloved monkeys. My friend, Gin, specialises in people development.

Her word of advice to me, which I constantly remind myself, is :
"Lose the small battles, to win the war".

This is sometimes easier said than done, especially when one is hovering around like a little dynamite with a short fuse!

~ Written by an exasperated Mother-of-Four-Little-Darlings
that-can-be-angels-one-minute,-and-little-monsters-the-next
and who is constantly working at lengthening her infamous short fuse!

Nails Falling Out - The Aftermath of A Blistering Time

28 October 2013

Just as we thought that the entire Hand, Foot & Mouth episode was history, our first HFM patient, Kid 2, suddenly discovered that her nails were about to create another nightmare a month after recovering from HFM rashes and blisters! Two of her fingernails on her right hand slowly dislodged itself from the the cuticles literally overnight and started falling out! I had briefly read about this happening to some Mat Salleh children when I first googled HFM on the internet during our first HFM attack. The mother of that blog warned of severe peeling of the skin as well as fingernails falling out!

It happened sometime after K2 shed her skin, so to think that the HFM virus was still creating havoc to their little bodies was rather upsetting! K3 was the next to have peeling nails. K1 had just slight peeling of the outer nail on one or two of her fingernails. K4's peeling was relatively minor too. As for me, a couple of my nails especially on those fingers that were badly blistered, started to split and dropped off too.

~ Jottings by an Exhausted Mother of Four
who continues to have horror flashbacks when she hears of the three letter words H-F-M.

Ewww....

Ouch!

YUCKS!

NO Welcome!

The Little Man and his Loyal Slave recently battled it out in the car on the drive home from play-school last Friday. When I saw that he had drunk less than a third of his water bottle for the entire morning (which really was very little), I immediately blurted out "No more mooncakes, no more goodies!".

When no absolutely remorse was shown, it was time to inflict a more painful punishment. I checked his tupperware at the traffic lights and found his goodies that his friends had given him; there was a half-eaten Japanese rice cracker and about 13 Honey Stars. His favourites! (You see, the Little Man tends to savour his goodies slowly. After finishing the food that I give him to eat at school, he would very often take the little fish biscuits or other biscuits that the school dishes out to the students during breaktime. He would eat half at school and take the rest home to eat after lunch or at tea time.)

Without hesitation, I popped his precious rice cracker in my mouth. Suddenly, there WAS a reaction. He struggled to break free from his safety belt. I had to do a double take of the wretched look on his face as at that very moment, I actually had visions of Hulk Junior (minus the green colour) breaking free in my car! I then popped a mouthful of Honey Stars and told him "If you don't drink your water, you don't get to eat your goodies...". At that moment, I could not rationalise with a 44 months old kiddo that not enough water + mooncake every night + very hot weather = a very sore throat/fever/cough.

As soon as I took the last mouthful of Honey Stars, I very politely said "Hmm...that was delicious. Thank you very much." .
His immediate reply astounded me "NO Welcome!!"
I continued on... " Don't finish your water again tomorrow, ok? ... then, Mummy will have some more goodies to eat tomorrow."
Clearly upset and not about to be further defeated, Hulk Junior answered back with tears glistening in his eyes "NO! I will eat all my goodies in school!"

I have had no further visions of Hulk Junior since that incident.
It is however interesting to note that since that day, I have noticed that the Little Man's tupperware has come back completely empty, devoid of even crumbs, for the last 5 school days! When I recently saw evidence of seaweed (coatings from the rice cracker) on the tupperware cover, I questioned him and he admitted gobbling up the goodies his friends had given him at school before I picked him up. As we are best friends once again, he says he will share the goodies with me again. I am still waiting...

~Jottings from the Loyal Slave.

Post-publication Note:

On a lighter note....

As the girls are revising for their upcoming exams, I was busy testing No. 2 on her synonyms when No. 3, the Little Genius decided to contribute her two cents worth.

Question: What is the synonym of "Dull"?

Before No. 2 could even answer, the Little Genius in all her eagerness shouted out "CURRY!"

She looked a little disturbed and embarrassed when we told her the answer was "Boring". The poor gal had thought I meant "Dhal"!!

A Blistering Time

We have just been through eleven long and tiring blistering days!

It all started on a routine school morning. The girls were getting ready for school when Kiddo 2 started whining that she was feeling very tired. Upon checking, we found that she was running a slight temperature. So Kiddo 2, with her big, dark, eye-bags, was immediately ordered to get back into bed and stay home for the day. Of course, this only made her whined even more. Little did we know then that, that would only be the start of the blistering time that lay ahead of us. By the end of Day 1, Kiddo 2’s temperature had begun to get more aggressive and she lost her appetite. Not one to waste food, Mr T ate up all her leftovers without hesitation even after receiving dirty looks from his wife, as eating off a sick person’s plate is never a good idea.

As the next day was a weekend, Mr T and I took turns to check on Kiddo 2’s aggressive fever almost every hourly, throughout the night. Whilst Kiddo 2 was having her breakfast on Day 2, we noticed that her feet and hands were covered in rashes. My first thought … argh!! .... chicken pox! But then, I reasoned to myself that it looked more like rashes, rather than little poxes AND she already had her chicken pox vaccine years ago. It couldn’t be measles either, as she too, had already been given her vaccine for measles. Then suddenly it dawned on me ..... rashes on hands, rashes on feet…

As Mr was away at the office, I quickly delegated the preparation of lunch to my personal assistant and dashed Kiddo 2 to the paediatrician’s clinic for a formal diagnosis. As soon as the Doc shone her torch light into Kiddo 2’s throat, we saw the red spots and ulcers in her throat. It was confirmed. We had our first ever case of Hand, Foot and Mouth (HFM) in either sides of our family. As HFM is caused by any one of a variety of viruses, there is no medication for it; just paracetamol to control the high fever. We just have to let the virus run its course and make sure the patient take in lots of fluid and have total rest. Doc said it would normally take about 7 days for the virus to totally clear. She also told us to look out for warning signals like severe lethargy, headache and vomiting as in very severe cases, certain virus strains could cause viral meningitis. If Kiddo 2 had any of those symptoms, we were told to immediately send her to hospital.

My immediate thought was to quarantine Kiddo 2 away from the other kids. Mr T spoke to Yeh-yeh and Nai Nai who agreed that Kiddo 2 should be put into quarantine at their house. I dropped her at the Quarantine House before dashing home to pack her things into an overnight bag. As soon as I had cooked the kids’ favourite fishball noodles, I brought it over to Kiddo 2 at the Quarantine House, who by then was complaining of a very sore throat due to the numerous ulcers sprouting inside her mouth. I was literally drenched in sweat by the time I picked up Kiddo 1 and 3 from their Art Class.

At the end of Day 2, Kiddo 2 was covered in a combination of rashes and blisters on her fingers, toes, feet and lips as well as ulcers in her mouth. On Day 3, the Chief Matron at the Quarantine House reported that Kiddo 2 tossed in bed the entire night and constantly complained of her hands and feet being extremely itchy and uncomfortable. The rashes had spread sporadically through her body too. She struggled through her meals and obediently swallowed her food (soft food, obviously) through all that pain. On Day 3 night, the Chief Matron had to soak Kiddo 2’s feet in hot water to try and ease the itch and discomfort. When we left the Quarantine House on Day 3 night, Kiddo 2 looked rather down as her eyes averted our gaze and I could see little water droplets on the table at which she was sat at. The Chief Matron and her helpers (i.e. Mr T’s sisters) did their best to cheer her up in our absence. She understood the reasons why she had to stay at the Quarantine House.

On the home front, we pumped the other kiddos with endless rounds of Vitamin C, Echinacea, Manuka honey, Propolis, cooling Chinese herbal drinks and honey lemon, in an attempt to pump up their immune system. As the incubation period for the HFM virus is generally between 3 to 5 days, I started doing simple mathematics. The day before Day 1, in my haste to leave the house to pick the girls from school, I grabbed a bottle of Chinese herbal drink for the girls, but dispensed with the need to take 2 extra cups which I normally do, as I thought that they were all in the pink of health. Just 13 hours after they had shared that same drinking bottle, Kiddo 2 was ill. So I reasoned to myself that the probability of Kiddo 3 getting HFM was pretty high, as she has a weaker immune system, whilst Kiddo 1 should hopefully escape as she was stronger and much older. After all, we normally hear that it is the playschools and kindergartens that get closed down due to HFM.

At the end of Day 3, I noticed Kiddo 3 looking rather more tired than usual in the evening despite her having a rather long nap in the afternoon. My gut instincts told me that Kiddo 3 was the next HFM patient. I checked her temperature and suffered the beginnings of an anxiety attack! After giving Kiddo 3 a dose of Paracetamol and putting her to bed, I quickly chewed onto my Gaviscon Double Action tablets and had a cup of Anlene milk to as I could feel the gastric juices churning inside my stomach. It was another night of constant checking on Kiddo 3’s temperature as the fever was aggressive, constantly reaching 103 degrees, and even after inserting the suppository, the fever still hovered around 100 degrees for some time before returning with a vengeance well before the 8 hour mark. Kiddo 3 was asked to stay only in her room and to pack her quarantine bag in the morning.

Once Kiddo 4 came home from school on Day 4, showered and had his lunch, I quickly put him to sleep for his afternoon nap, before rushing Kiddo 3 off to our Preferred Paediatrician. On the way to Pantai Hospital, I receive 2 text messages on my phone from Kiddo 1 informing me that she too was running a high fever at school. Arghhhh! To prevent another anxiety attack, I did the easiest and most logical thing I could think of at that moment. I clicked the forward button on my phone and sent her message on to Mr T as soon as my car stopped at the traffic light. Coincidentally, as soon as I reached the hospital, Mr T called to say that he was about to leave the office to pick Kiddo 1 from school .

By the time I sat down at our Paediatrician’s waiting room, my nerves had calmed down and I strategised with Mr T on switching our home to be the Patients’ Home and the Quarantine Home to be the Safe Home. I would be in charge of the Patients’ Home whilst Mr T would take care of Kiddo 4 at the Safe Home with his parents and sisters to help him out. The Paediatrician prescribed Ponstan for kids as well as oral gels to numb the pain of the mouth sores. He warned that some patient may also get rashes in the bum-bum as well as the private area and joked that HFM really should be re-named Hand, Foot, Mouth and Buttocks disease. As soon as he said that, I had an instant flashback of my attack with chicken pox when I was 16. I literally had chicken pox everywhere where one could think of! No spot left untouched!

For the next 3 nights, I checked Kiddos 1 and 3’s temperature on auto pilot. Alarm ring, drag self out of bed, open room doors, plop thermometer into patient’s ears, repeat same for 2nd patient; if necessary, give medicine. Once done, scrub hands with Dettol hand wash, dry on Mummy’s exclusive hand towel, drink water, reset alarm clock and crawl back into bed.

During the day on Days 5 and 6, Granddad chauffeured Kiddo 4 to and from school. After making sure that the girls were fine, I would scrub myself clean from head to toe and have a total change of clothes before heading over to the Safe Home with Kiddo 4’s lunch. I spent precious time with him, reading to him before putting him to sleep for his afternoon nap. Once the Little Man was asleep, I drove off to the girls’ schools to collect their school books so that they could still catch up with their school work during their week's absence.

I was totally knackered but I still religiously gargled my throat with salt water and scrubbed my hands with Dettol after touching my patients, before I ate, before I touched my face, etc. Mr T diligently prepared the Chinese Herbal drinks with the help of our personal assistant on a daily basis to pump up everyone’s immune system.

By the morning of Day 6, Kiddo 2 was well on the road to recovery. Her rashes had almost disappeared, and the blisters were almost dried out. She started sleeping well again as soon as she got home. Kiddo 3 who I had thought would be badly hit due to her generally weaker immune system, had surprisingly only broken out in some sporadic rashes on her hands and feet, with just a couple of blisters here and there. Her mouth had quite a few red spots, but only a couple of small ulcers. Perhaps it was due to the combined effect of her better water intake compared to Kiddo 2 and the large doses of Manuka, Propolis, Vitamin C and sheer luck.

Whilst Kiddo 3 only had a mild case of HFM, Kiddo 1 was continuously breaking out in mouth sores. The poor gal had huge ulcers filling up every conceivable space in her mouth as a result of HFM and perhaps in part, due to her still adjusting with her new braces. She dreaded meal times as she had great difficulty eating, taking over an hour for each small meal. Before going to bed on Day 6, she complained of discomfort “right down there” and asked me to check it out. The poor little darling had like a dozen little pimples growing there. Not wanting to make it too big a deal so as not to frighten her off, I told her that the Paediatrician did warn that the rashes and blisters could break out in those areas too, and asked her to just ignore the discomfort (easier said than done, I know, but what else could I do?) and continue to keep that area as clean as possible. Thankfully it cleared off in just over a day.

On Day 7, I woke up with a funny feeling in my throat. It was not painful, but the throat just felt tight and constricted. I took my torch light and nervously shone it into my throat. Lo and behold, I saw two tiny little red dots at the top of my throat. I thought my eyes were playing tricks with me from the lack of sleep. So I had my breakfast and went to check again. Yup, the two tiny little red dots were still there. No temperature though. Just before sending lunch over to Kiddo 4 at the Safe House, I decided to call Mr T to break the bad news that despite all the precautions taken, I was under possible attack from the HFM virus – most likely as a result of a weaker immune system due to the sheer lack of rest.

By the time I reached the Safe House ten minutes later, GrandDad and SIL were standing at the main entrance guarding the doors…essentially preventing me from having any contact with the Little Man. Mr T undoubtedly works very efficiently as he must have made that call to the Safe House to bar my entry immediately after my call. Having only been able to spend a little over 2 hours with the Little Man since he went to stay at the Safe House, it just broke my heart when I saw him running the opposite direction as he saw me approaching the main door to the Safe House. I passed the food over to GrandDad before turning around to walk home, feeling shattered at the prospect of being in seclusion for the next week, whilst my body battles it out with HFM.

By late afternoon, my soldiers were battling it out as evidenced by my high temperatures. Though exhausted, I tried to sleep but could not. I had been having trouble sleeping since Day 4 when my two favourite men moved over to the Safe House. Guess I am just not used to being in the big room all by my lonely self. The recovering patients were very sweet in that they volunteered to set their alarm clocks in the middle of the night to check on the latest patient. Everyone was sent to bed early on Day 7; it was one of those rare times when Mummy was ready for bed before her girls. But alas, Mummy could not sleep as she was shivering in bed despite having taken her medication earlier. She was also filled with worry that the Little Man could have been exposed to the virus as the Little Man had been with her, though only for a short period of time, the past two days.

The entire saga worsened in the wee hours of Day 8 when I received a call at 3.00 a.m. from Mr T asking me to switch the house alarm off as he had to come home to get the Little Man’s fever medication and thermometer as he suspected that the Little Man was running a fever. By afternoon of Day 8, we were all pretty sure that the Little Man too had been hit by the HFM virus. Mr T had taken the day off work to care for the Little Man who had by that time become very whiny due to his general feeling of un-wellness.

I blamed myself for not being able to stay away from the Little Man’s magnetic pull. Mr T keeps telling me that I should “LET GO” more. Then I consoled myself that the exposure could also have been from Kiddo 1 and 3 as the general incubation period was 3-5 days. Mr T and his capable helpers did a great job in nursing the Little Man’s aggressive fever which lasted over two days. Thankfully my prayers were answered in that he primarily had rashes, and not too many blisters. Also, Mr T reported that his appetite seemed to be unaffected though he complained of pain in his throat and had to be continuously coaxed to drink water.

On the evening of Day 8 at the Quarantine House, we had to deal with an unexpected after-effect of the HFM. After Kiddo 2 had her shower, she came running over to me to show me that the skin on the upper part of her ring finger of her right hand had peeled right off as she was showering. My knees got all soft on me when I saw the crinkled up skin dangling off the tip of her finger. Kiddo 2 kept her cool whilst my body squirmed on the inside as I cut off a couple of centimetres of dead skin! To console Kiddo 2 (and myself!), I showed her the new baby soft skin under the crinkled up dead skin. The raw pink colour of that new skin was very akin to that raw pink colour that all new-born babies enter the world with! In the heat of the moment, it did not dawn on me to snap a picture for memento’s sake before snipping it off. By bedtime, the skin around her toes had also begun to peel off. This time, I did take a picture of it.

Since then, the skin around all her fingers and toes have begun peeling too. A quick check with our Doc confirms that it is quite common for skin to peel after the rashes have gone away. A subsequent check on the internet reveals that in certain cases the fingernails toenails can fall off too! Oh, gosh!! I doubt if I could stomach that!! Let’s just pray we just get blessed with new skin; don’t quite fancy seeing finger nails dangling off any of our fingers!

Going back to moi’, Just like Kiddo 1, I struggled through my meals on Day 9, taking over an hour to eat just half of the quantity of my usual meal. Huge ulcers had developed deep in the throat, and by the sides of my tongue as well as under the upper lips. Chewing each bite of food felt like a knife sawing through my tongue and the burning sensation in my throat just made it worse. It was exactly like how Kiddo 1 had described it. Each of my fingers was filled with an average of 15 bumps, pimples and blisters of varying sizes. Pointer and Tall Man were the most badly hit on both hands with each having well over 20 blisters. This made washing hair a torturous affair as I had just cut my nails a few days ago; hence my blistered fingers had to do the scrubbing. I was also still having trouble sleeping alone at night; either I kept automatically waking up ever so often, or the blisters would mysteriously start to itch up in the night, or I just simply could not sleep though I was tired. My usual sleeping partner was also having trouble getting a good night’s rest as his new sleeping partner would be twitching and tossing here and there and making all sorts of noises throughout the night.

The girls happily returned to school on Day 11. Not too sure about Kiddo 3, but Kiddo 1 and 3 were very eager to return to school, to their friends and to normalcy. With the girls back at school and with me still being ordered to rest at Quarantine House whilst my Little Kutu was under the care of his grandparents, the house was strangely quiet and with no school runs to do and with lunchtime catering services suspended, I was given that rare luxury of doing anything I wanted for most of the day. The sound of my favourite classical music filled the house whilst I got my faithful computer out and began typing my thoughts away. I must admit that it was simply wonderful to just have that pleasure of typing away without anyone going "Mummy, Mummy".... to distract my thoughts away; instead I just had Vivaldi's Four Seasons accompanying me for two entire days!

Now on Day 12, my skin feels all tight where it had stretched due to the blister attack and rough, hardened bumps are everywhere as the blisters have dried out leaving me with wrinkly, hardened two-toned (original colour plus the darkened red colour caused by the blisters) skin. I comfort myself in that there is a possible silver lining behind this whole episode. At thirty plus years of age, I may well be getting new baby-soft skin once the skin starts to peel off like Kiddo 2’s.

I have also learnt my lesson the hard way.

No sharing bottles.

Don't try to be superwoman.

And learn to let go of Little Kutu more.

Perhaps all those vitamins, supplements, grapefruits, virgin coconut oil that Mr T so religiously pumps into his body each and every day, as well as his healthy lifestyle worked wonders for him after all, as apart from the lack of sleep for the last week, he has emerged unscathed from this blistering time. I joked with Mr T a couple of nights ago that if he really emerges unscathed, I will buy him Superman’s outfit and he would have to wear that distinctly red underwear on the outside!

~ Written by an exhaused Mother-of-Four

who is looking forward to baby-soft hands in the future,

but who now has to live through having immensely

rough, sand-paper like fingers with skin peeling off everywhere.