Walk of Freedom

Our son’s kindergarten organized a Merdeka Walk today. It was great! They invited parents to join in the fun, arranged for police escort, bought little flags for all the children to wave while walking and put stickers on the back of the children’s shirts which read “We Are A Happy Family”.

The walk started at the school and went for about half a kilometre then everybody turned around and headed back to the school. Before leaving, both the policemen got a chance to shake hands with the very sweaty but excited children. When it was time for the children to leave, each one got a ‘goody bag’.

The parents also had the opportunity to mingle and chat, something we would normally not get a chance to do. More importantly, we were given the opportunity to take part in our children’s schooling activities.


I think this is exactly what children today need.

Some fun, some exercise, some well organized activities that can be tied back to a historical event which the children can learn about. Of course, at the pre-schooling age the children are too young to fully grasp the meaning of ‘Merdeka’, but they certainly shouted it aloud as if they were right there at Stadium Merdeka with Tunku Abdul Rahman!

It was a bit of challenge, though, manoeuvring 60-odd pre-schoolers on busy and, at times, main roads but it was heartening to see all the parents who participated take it upon themselves to help the teachers marshal the students during the walk. Children are so unpredictable – at one point a 5-year old suddenly darted in front of me to adjust his shoes which had come loose. I thought he was about to run off to the middle of the road! Then there were the front markers with the big school and Malaysia flags who were supposed to follow a safe distance behind the car (which was the principal’s car all decked out in Malaysian flags) but at times somehow managed to overtake it!

A well spent (if not sweaty) 1 hour, getting to know some of the other parents, but most importantly, quality time with my son.

Thomas the Politically Incorrect Tank Engine

Our children’s first exposure to children’s programmes was with Playhouse Disney channel and wow, children’s programmes have come a very long way!

Nowadays, the shows are infused with a lot of good moral values, require some physical activity when following along dance moves, encourage young children to recognize feelings (sad, happy, scared) and help to enhance listening skills. The shows from the US are especially good about portraying a multi-racial environment, including children of various sizes as well as those who are physically challenged.

So we thought it might be a good idea to get some CDs for our children to watch. Since our elder son likes Thomas the Tank Engine, we bought 2 CDs for him and his brother to watch.

Wow.

How different Thomas is from the other children’s programmes that we are used to! It’s totally politically incorrect, there’s a lot of name calling, sarcasm and sometimes just downright mean.

The simplest example is the nickname for Sir Topham Hatt, the man in charge of the railway lines. He is called “The Fat Controller”. I don’t see why they can’t just use his real name.

Below is a scene from Vol. 3 of the Thomas series.

Thomas meets Terence the Tractor for the first time:
Terence: Hullo, I’m Terence. I’m a tractor. I’m ploughing.
Thomas: Hullo, I’m Thomas. I’m a tank engine. What ugly wheels you’ve got. (How mean! What are they teaching children?)
Terence: They’re not wheels, they’re caterpillars. I can go anywhere with them. I don’t need rails. (Sarcasm creeping in.)
Thomas: I don’t want to go anywhere. I like my rails. (Ok, now this little meeting is just degenerating.)

There is a scene in Vol. 1 where Thomas shows up late when he was supposed to help Gordon, another train.
Gordon: Hurry up, you.
Thomas: Hurry yourself! (A bit cheeky, isn’t it?)

I suppose if you can actually sit through and watch the entire episode, you might actually see some form of ‘lesson’. For example, in the episode where Thomas meets Terence for the first time, it turns out that Terence managed to help Thomas out of a fix and then they become good friends, Terence’s wheels aren’t so ugly anymore and the name calling and sarcasm stops.

But there’s really no need to include all the “bad” things just so we can get to the “good” ones, right?

Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde

Our 3+ year old son, Abang, shows such affection for his 1 year old brother, Adik.

One day I took both of them to the doctor’s office for their respective immunization jabs. Adik was being quite fussy – I think sleepy and ready for a nap – and had started crying even before the Big Needle appeared. Abang looked around for a toy and gave one to Adik, saying, “Here Adik, a toy for you.” The cutest part was that Abang had this really concerned look on his face because his baby brother was obviously in distress and unhappy that he just had to find something to placate him with.

The actual jabbing moment passed quite uneventfully for Adik. When it was Abang’s turn, he was certainly uncomfortable but didn’t cry or fuss. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed by some sweets!

At home, too, Abang is just such a wonderful older brother. Always wants to play with Adik, takes him away from wires, plug points and the like, saying, “No, Adik, dangerous!” Adik reciprocates his brother’s love and affection by breaking out in the biggest, sweetest smile as soon as he sees his brother or even hears Abang’s voice.

It’s enough to make you melt, I tell you!

Then suddenly Mr Hyde gets called away and Dr Jekyll stands in for him. Dr Jekyll decides, “Hey, Adik hasn’t fallen in awhile, let’s see what reaction I can get from the adults around”.

Shove. Thud. Uwwaaaaaaaa …..!!

Or we could all be nicely playing when suddenly Abang breaks out in a long whine, escalating to crying, making its way up to screaming, all the while shouting that he “actually didn’t want to do that”.

I wish Dr. Jekyll would give me some warning when he’s about to appear. Personally, I’d prefer if the good Dr would call ahead and make an appointment so that I could be ready for his appearance, but that would be too much to ask.

I wonder how long this phase will last – until they’re 25? 30? Or perhaps just until they move out, whatever age that would be.

In the meantime, we’ll just do our best to survive the stormy seas and prepare ourselves for Adik’s turn to be Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.

Whose Birthday is it, Anyway?

Our younger son turned a year old recently, one whole year!

So I started planning his birthday party about 2 months ago. Have it at home? No way, I’m not having 15 children tearing about (and up) my house. Be a fair parent and have it at Megakidz where his Abang had his birthday earlier this year? No, too expensive for a 1year old who wouldn’t understand what’s going on. So we compromised and headed to McDonald’s.

It was great fun. The adults had a decent lunch and the children thoroughly enjoyed themselves, evidenced by the plastered-down-from-sweat hair.

They had a party room and nice little play area for the children. The staff were great with children and managed to herd all the little ones into the party room for their Happy Meals. While the children were happily chomping away, the staff got together some things for the party games. Once everyone was ready, they started the classic party game – Musical Chairs. (I was at a party once at the birthday girl’s house and they had ‘Musical Cushions’. Same concept, but takes longer to sit down.)

In our case, the birthday boy was too busy running around McDonalds and too young to play the game anyway. So all the older children, Abang included, gathered around those bright red chairs to play the game.

How predictable the outcome was, that my 9 year old nephew – the oldest and biggest child by far – should win the game. Size does matter, especially to nudge little competitors out of the way!

The next game involved nothing but luck and the ability to pass the ball to the person next to you. The children were arranged in a circle and when the music stopped, the person holding the ball is out of the game. Oh, look. The 9 year old boy is the first one out. Who would have guessed? The final 2 were Abang and one of his second cousins, a girl. Well, what do you know? Abang won this game! The staff must have remembered who’s paying the bill…

When the time came to cut the birthday cake, who should sit on the Birthday Chair but Abang. The staff politely tried to talk him out of sitting there.

“Abang, why don’t you stand next to Adik? Then he can sit on the Birthday Chair.”

“But Abang having my birthday with Adik.” No sign of letting The Chair go.

I step in. “Hey! I have an idea! Let’s have both of you sit down together.” Adik is squirming away, not keen to sit anywhere, while we try to sort out the cake cutting sitting arrangement.

Eventually I have to hold Adik while he stands on The Chair and Abang is sitting facing the cake. As expected, Abang blows the candle out. But a-ha! I managed to put the plastic knife in Adik’s hand and “help” him cut the cake.

Finally, one part of the party that the birthday boy actually participated in!

Later at home, Abang had a really good time opening up the birthday presents and playing with them too. My sister, the seasoned mother-of-two-boys sent me an SMS the next day: “How’s Abang enjoying Adik’s presents?”

I couldn’t agree with her more! Whose birthday is it anyway?

KKU-Kuching Kurang Upaya

I remember the day KKU (pronounced kay-koo) adopted us.

My husband and I were out in the garden enjoying some fresh air. Along came this little black kitten with its mother; they didn’t look too undernourished but they didn’t look like they were stuffed silly with lots of IAMS or Royal Canin either.

They saw me coming towards them and ran off. The kitten looked like it tripped and then fell into the drain. Eventually I saw both of them walk away.

I told my husband what happened and he said, “That’s odd. Cats, even kittens, don’t trip. They’re very steady on their feet. Maybe there’s something wrong with it.”

I just shrugged. You see, I’m not a cat person at all but my husband is. He’s had cats all his life while my family has never had a pet.

Later we saw them again and watched them for a little while. The kitten had a rather unusual gait.

“You know, I think the kitten has difficulties with its hind legs, or maybe a hip problem. That could explain why it walks like that and isn’t as steady on its feet.”

Its gait just added to its personality; and so we decided to call it “KKU”.

In no time KKU and his mother became indoor/ outdoor cats. We bathed KKU regularly (his mother wouldn’t have any of it) and put their food under the kitchen table and litter box in the bathroom downstairs. Interestingly, neither of them really needed any training on using the litter box; they took to it instinctively.

After a few months we sent KKU to the vet to be neutered. In the meantime, KKU’s mother had delivered another kitten – this one we called Sausage because she grew quite fat quite fast in the first 2weeks. When Sausage was weaned, we sent her mother to be spayed but unfortunately she managed to run away; the poor thing probably felt so frightened.

So our family now included KKU and Sausage. When I was pregnant, they stopped going out of the house together – they would take turns going out such that either of them was always with me at home. I found that quite extraordinary.

When our elder son was 11 months old, Sausage went out as she normally does but never came back. The last time we saw her was on her 2nd birthday. It was heartbreaking for me as I had never had a pet before so I had never experienced the pain of losing one. 9 months later, on New Year’s Eve, it was KKU’s turn to go out and never come back.

By that time our son was 1 year 8 months old and could talk quite proficiently for his age. He would ask, “Where KKU?” And we’d tell him, “KKU’s gone to a better place. He’s gone to the big PAWS in the sky.”

As he grew older he would ask more questions, like, “Why KKU go to better place?” or say something like, “Don’t want KKU go better place. Nak KKU come back.” There were times when I was too choked up to reply and just distracted him (us) with something else.

We are very thankful to have had KKU and Sausage around for our son. He learnt how to play with them, to be gentle with them and not be afraid of them. He learnt to respect them. He learnt to be human with animals.

A Tale of Ugly Old Men

It’s been awhile since I got chatted up by men. Perhaps it has something to do with always having either one or both of my children with me. Perhaps my son's pacifier hanging conspicuously from my handbag serves as a Men Repellent.

Or – let’s just accept the truth, shall we – I’m just not what I used to be. Jeans size a bit larger, under eye bags a bit darker, hair very “mom-like” and un-trendy … Basically, we got old. Excuse me, I mean I got old.

Therefore, I’ve pretty much accepted the fact that time moves on and, after having 2 children, gravity seems to have more of an effect than before, if you catch my drift. So it took me completely by surprise when one day, while I was enjoying a coffee and scone by myself at the hospital, an old man (emphasis: OLD) came up to me and said, “You’re eating alone.”

Oh dear GOD help me. Quick, start reading a magazine.

"Yes I am." Magazine looks really good now.

"Why are you sitting alone?"

Ooooohhhhh dear ……

"Because I like to." Back to my magazine.

"When are you going to invite me to share that with you?"

Switch on my Super Very Irritated Look. "I'm NOT."

Slight hesitation. Could it be the message finally got through all that toupee?

"Here's my card."

Jeez. He doesn't give up. "No, thank you."

"No, really, take a look at it."

Looks like some pensioner’s card to me. "NO, THANK YOU."

He finally got the message and after a bit more shuffling threw some magazines on the floor and walked off.

What is it with some men? Which part of no don’t they understand, the N or the O?

When I relayed the incident to my husband, he said, “You should have just given him a good karate kick.” But, I replied, I don’t hit senior citizens. That’s not nice. Then he said, “Hey, at least you’re still getting chatted up! Hahaha!”

Yes. Hahaha indeed. See, if it was a young Armani model, for example, it wouldn’t be so bad. Sure, I’d still tell him that I was at the hospital to see my gynaecologist who delivered both my children, but at least I wouldn’t be so disgusted. In fact, I’d probably be giggling away like a school girl while I wave my wedding and engagement rings as I tell him the reason I was there.

Of course I would not have invited him to share my scone with me. But, like I said, it wouldn’t have been such a repulsive incident.

One thing I learned from this episode: Leave the pacifier on the handbag because sometimes, you really do want the Men Repellent.

Vomitting Blood

“I think if I have another boy, I will vomit blood.”

Famous last words of a friend of mine who uttered them when she only had one son. Not long after, she was pregnant with another boy but has since moved overseas and I haven’t had a chance to ask her if she needs a blood transfusion.

My husband and I had a good laugh over that quote. Until, of course, our son was about 18 months old and I was pregnant again. Then the thought hit us: What if we have another boy? Will we be vomiting blood too?

I went for monthly pregnancy check-ups. In the 5th month of pregnancy, I went to see my regular gynaecologist and she did the ultrasound scan. Almost immediately she asked me if I wanted to know the sex of the baby. Since this was a regular ultrasound scan (as opposed to the 3- or 4-D scan which is more accurate) I knew then that it was a boy.

On my way home I sent an SMS to my husband. (Note: You know how it is when it’s not the first born. The first pregnancy usually sees the husband at every check up and even takes leave for each month’s immunization after the baby is born. Second child onwards – you’re on own, babe.)

The SMS read “Time to vomit blood. Just did ultrasound scan. Baby healthy, everything ok. ”

He knew what it meant and he was so sweet to reply “Hooray! Smooch!” even though I knew he really wanted a girl this time around. In fact, he had wanted a girl even during our first pregnancy. I think most daddies want a little girl.

What surprised me, however, was the reaction I got from many people when they found out I was going to have another boy.

“It’s ok, you’re still young, you can have some more. Try for a girl.” (This one was most common.)

“So are you done having children or are you going to keep trying until you have a girl?” (I’m sorry, are we at the slot machine? Keep putting coins in until you hit the jackpot?”

“Oh… (Insert sad face here) That’s ok… (Patting my shoulder as if my cat had died)”

In all honesty, I was happy. And I’m sure I would have been just as happy if she said I was going to have a baby girl. (I used to think that you can never be 100% sure it’s a girl because it could either be a girl or it could be a very shy boy. However, I have been told that these new sophisticated ultrasound machines can project very clear, um, pictures.) To me, it doesn’t matter whether it was a boy or a girl, so long as the baby is healthy and sempurna or “complete”, i.e. no missing limbs or other signs of physical disability.

So after a quick 1.5 hours of labour, we greeted our second son. How different he was from his Abang! More mellow, less crying, more sleep, less spit ups. Plus Adik had to be re-admitted for jaundice when he was 4 days old, which his older brother never had.

Now, 1 year later, they’re still as different as night and day although my husband and I are getting used to things getting broken by both of them and not just by our older son. I’ve forgotten at what age Abang started to climb furniture, stairs, etc, but it really surprised me when, at 9 months old, I saw his younger brother pull himself to a standing position using the sofa and then proceed to try climbing it! My mother witnessed that too and she said, “Boys…”

Even though Adik walks and even runs really fast now, Abang is still faster. The most often used phrases in our house now are “Abang! Get off! Don’t sit on Adik.” and “Abang! Don’t push Adik!”

Currently Abang, who is 3 years old, is bigger than the Adik but everyone’s prediction is: Not for long. Adik has a much better appetite than Abang (even when Adik is ill, he eats like normal) and probably once Adik learns to defend himself, watch out Abang!

Little people attempting to climb everything (not just furniture), rough play and boisterous behaviour have become a part of our household for the past couple of years already and we are so used to it that even if we do have a girl next, she’d probably master the art of climbing faster than her brothers and maybe even teach her brothers the “proper” way to fight back and defend oneself.

After all, she will have 2 wonderful teachers to guide her.