The Gems That Make Abang

Mid-morning on Saturday Abang was sent home by (a very sleepy) Ant J well-fed, happy, contented and clutching his surprises for Mummy and Daddy. He was almost shy to show it to us, but when he finally did show it to us we were totally taken aback. It was a collage of cut out Formula 1 cars stuck on art paper. He chose all the pictures and stuck them himself using the glue, but Ant J had to help him with the cutting. (Since then he’s become quite adept at using the scissors, which, I suppose, can be good or bad, depending on how you look at it.)

“Wow, Abang! Those are really, really good! Thank you for the surprise, it’s very nice,” kisses and hugs all around.

Ant J reported that in the middle of doing his surprise for Mummy and Daddy, in a very serious tone while furiously concentrating trying not to get glue on his hands, he said, "I think my Mummy and Daddy will be SO impressed with this surprise."

Spot on!

During the day when he was hanging out with us, he mentioned several times, “I think I did a great job of sleeping at Ant J’s house yesterday.”

We thought he needed some affirmation, so we piled on the praise and told him how proud we were of him for doing that (especially since there were so many aborted attempts and midnight runs!). Little did we realize he was actually setting the scene to get permission to sleep over again that night. The sneaky devil.

Mummy and Daddy were ok with it, but could Ant J handle another sleepover? Hah – who can say no? So Saturday evening we re-packed his Arts & Crafts box, clothes, etc, and sent him over.

When he woke up from his nap, she asked him if he would like to go to the market with Nenek the next morning. The old man that is my 3-year-old son replied, “Nenek kan dah tua, tak daya nak tolak the trolley. Abang tolong tolak lah.” ("Nenek's too old to push the trolley, I'll help her-la.")

Later, at bedtime, after reading his new Winnie the Pooh books, he told Ant J, “Daddy always tell me about his work after we read. Ant J, I want you to tell story about your work.”

I’m not sure if it was at this point when she melted, or after he asked her to “sleep closer” (as in snuggle) with him. Could be both.

I guess going to the wet market must be quite an experience for him since he’s only ever done it once or twice before this. When he got back to Ant J’s car she asked him if he had a good time at the market and he replied, “Yes I did! It was very exciting!”

Then she noticed his knee was grazed. “Did you fall down?”

“Yes I did! Abang jalan-jalan and then ge-de-bonk! Abang jatuh on the road.” He was almost pleased with himself.

Watch this space for more gems.

Cute As Cute Can Be

You may have noticed that lately, Abang has been trying to get Ant J to sleep over. Well, over the weekend he got his wish, and more.

On Thursday we were at Nenek’s house and he summoned the courage to ask her. There was no way Ant J could say no, even though that meant waking up super early as Abang is bound to do. So she packed her stuff and came back with us.

That night she slept with him in his room. Even though he woke up at 5:15am the next morning, he let Ant J sleep on until he was too hungry at 6:15am (“Ant J, I’m very hungry, can we go downstairs and eat something?”) and they went downstairs for an early breakfast. By 10am he was ready to go back to her house with her and spend the night there.

He knows he usually gets his way if he is well behaved. So before he asked, he made sure he played nicely with Adik, no fussing or whining, he does as he’s told and usually comes up with one-liners like, “Hey, bising betul, orang bakar mercun. Abang nak tidur pun tak boleh! Nanti terbakar tangan tu, kang!”

He called Daddy at the office and asked Daddy’s permission to sleep at Ant J’s house and Daddy said yes without hesitation. We like the boys to spend plenty of time with Ant J. While she really adores them, she also tolerates no nonsense from them. I remember one time when Abang was younger (before Adik came along), we were at their house and he was doing his whiny and fussy thing, and crying because he wanted to eat jagung. Ant J just firmly told him, “No, Abang. When you finish your rice then you can eat jagung.”

He meekly said “ok” and sat down and finished his lunch. We were most impressed!

Abang has had several trial runs of sleeping over at Nenek’s house and each time saw poor Ant J driving him back at some point at night because he just suddenly changed his mind. So naturally this time we were all joking about a “midnight run back home” and telling Ant J, “So we’ll see you tonight then.”

This time was different. They went to the park and then to the bookstore. After they got home they had dinner and did arts and crafts together (with a special surprise for Mummy and Daddy!). As she changed him into his pyjamas after a shower, he hit her with, “I love you, Ant J.”

Sigh. Just makes you want to squ-eeeeeze That Cute Little Boy!

And Now, The Things Adults Say

I used to think that lying to children was just plain mean. They’re so trusting, so gullible, so ... innocent. How could adults take advantage of that?

Well, easy. I have 2 words for you: It Works.

Let me set a scene for you. You are at the airport pushing your 15-month-old son in his stroller. For reasons unknown to mankind, he starts to fuss and insists on getting out because he wants to push the stroller. You know he will start pushing it into other people, making you to take away his fun and in the end causing you to have to carry him screaming and push an empty stroller. What do you do?

(a) Oblige

(b) Stay firm and keep repeating "No" to him as he tantrums while strapped in his stroller making it impossible to push without other people thinking you are a heartless parent who doesn't care that her son is having a seizure, or

(c) Quickly whisper to him in a conspiratory voice that the airport "security guard" (more like immigration officer on a break) who happens to be walking in your direction is about to tell you that "all little boys have to sit in their stroller" otherwise he will be "very angry".

All experienced parents would choose the answer (c). The stern looking uniform is usually enough to make young children do as they’re told. (The attached picture was taken before I became “an experienced parent”, when I thought it was actually cute that Abang was pushing his stroller around like a drunk driver.)

Of course some lies are quite extreme. My auntie was fond of telling Abang that if he doesn’t finish his food the policemen will come and arrest him. Using the police to scare him really backfired when my parents’ house was broken into and we were the ones who discovered it. When I told Abang that I’d called the police and we had to wait for them, he started to cry!

Ok, time to look for another bogeyman.

The next one was the “orang banci”. Yes, those poor unsuspecting census board folks who go door to door (come rain or shine) to get information from each household. I think my auntie was upset with them once for ringing the doorbell when Abang was asleep in the lounge and causing him to wake up.

If he’s kicking up a fuss not wanting to shower, she’ll say, “Quick, quick, better go shower now otherwise the ‘orang banci’ will come and ask whether you have showered or not.”

Woosh! Off he goes to shower. See? Told you it works!

Daddy has fun with this one. He likes telling Abang, “Don’t tell fibs or else the ‘orang banci’ will come and get you.”

Oh, the irony of it all!

Deeparaya at the ER

Happy Deepavali and Selamat Hari Raya! To those who are not celebrating, hope you are having a good break and a safe holiday.

We had planned Hari Raya day today similar to last year’s: Get the clan over to our house in the morning, then at about lunch time Ant J, Nenek and our family will drive down to Semenyih to visit my husband’s relatives.

Nenek and Ant J were the first to arrive and the first thing Ant J said to us was, “Oooh my stomach is doing the summersaults today.” Well, something to that effect anyway.

Freaky, isn’t it? First Adik had it, then Abang was hospitalised and now Ant J seems to have caught the bug too. Want to hear something even more freaky? Guess who had to go to the ER again, for the 3^rd time in 8 days, this time for herself?

I woke up on Hari Raya eve with a slight pain in my stomach. Ok, no big deal, let’s just see if I can – shall we say – sit this one out. No can do, the pain just kept getting worse and worse. I took some of Adik’s medication (it did say for children AND adults) but that didn’t stay down for very long.

Finally we decided it was time to go to the doctor. As it was the Monday after Deepavali and the eve of Hari Raya, our regular clinic was closed. So off we went to our now regular ER with me lying down doubled over in the back seat.

After explaining what was wrong, I got a bed at the ER and eventually the doctor gave me a jab and half hour later checked to see if I was ok to go home. She gave me the green light, assorted medication and advice on what to eat and, more importantly, what not to eat. Off we went, I was feeling somewhat better after the jab but not that much more.

Semenyih didn’t look promising.

(On a brighter note, the hospital had a unique 'kolam' (the floor decoration made of coloured rice that usually shows up around Deepavali) at its entrance. The 'kolam' was surrounded by a wooden fence on which hung lots of ketupat decoration and behind it was a kampung house, signifying the Deeparaya celebration. Very cool!)

Luckily my parents are in town for the Hari Raya break and we packed the boys, my auntie and the maid off to their house. After a day of medication, rest, some super-bland porridge and yummy vegetable soup, I actually felt well enough to join them all for dinner.

Hari Raya morning I felt much better, although still with some twangs of pain but nothing serious. We had everyone over at our house and even made it to Semenyih. The problem with having stomach flu during Hari Raya is that practically everything served is exactly the type of food to avoid – oily, spicy or sweet.

I managed to refrain myself but Ant J had trouble resisting the rendang so I think she’s paying for that now, poor dear. And if that’s not bad enough, this evening my uncle from the kampung called to wish everyone Selamat Hari Raya and as a by-the-way thing mentioned that HE was having the runs too!

I mean, WOW, what kind of virus are we dealing with here?

What, You Really Want to Stay at Kindergarten?

It started out as a normal day, I fetched Abang from kindergarten at about noon last Monday and he was telling me about his class, his friends and his teachers.

Then he told me that he wanted to stay at kindergarten “full day”.

“Why, Abang?”

“Because I like it.” This I-like-it answer has been quite typical lately.

“Yeah, ok, sure,” I replied to him, fully expecting it to actually not happen and almost pooh-poohing his request.

This is because it was so difficult getting him to even attend kindergarten in the first place. Basically, the first 2 days I took him to kindergarten, I stayed with him for about an hour or so and we left early, together. When the principal realised that he wouldn’t join the class and stuck by me the whole time, she suggested that I try leaving him there the next day.

“Yes, he will cry, but don’t worry, it usually won’t be for very long,” she was trying to reassure me as I probably looked like I was about to burst into tears!

So the next 3 days involved a lot of crying (on his part) and even more bribery. “Rewards” included going to the park after class, yes, at high noon and various other treats just to get him in the car. I figured once he was strapped in, there’s no turning back!

Every time I left him at the kindergarten, as I walked off I could hear his piercing scream even after I got in the car (which was parked across the road), shut the door and switch the engine on.

The turning point came when on the 5^th day I passed him off and as usual he was crying away. Then, amidst all the crying he actually said, “BYE BYE MUMMY, [UWAaaaaaaaa..] SEE YOU LATER MUMMY, [UWAaaaaaa...]” and managed a feeble wave as he cried his lungs out.

I guess by that time he accepted that he WILL be left at this strange but exciting place, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t be sad to be left there without a familiar face.

The 2^nd week saw less crying and his teacher said he settled down faster and joined in the class with less coaxing. By the 3^rd week there was no more crying, although throughout the year he’d go through some periods of not wanting to go.

Which is why I was surprised that he wanted to stay on for a full day there.

The next day, Tuesday, he reminded me again. So I humoured him by talking to his principal about it (I made sure he heard so that he knew I actually did it). I told her I wasn’t sure why he wanted to, but if he was serious about it, I was fine with it as a one-off.

To cut a really long story short, she later explained to him what ‘full day’ meant (lunch, nap, tea with the other children and Mummy only fetching him about 5pm) and he stood firm.

“Yes, I want to stay full day,” a very confident Abang told her.

I had my phone with me all the time, fully expecting her to call by 2pm, saying, “I’m sorry, he’s been crying for you non-stop, can you please come and get him?”

Peh. I am too perasan and obviously underestimate my own son! No phone call, no drama and at 4:45pm I went to fetch him.

That, unfortunately, was the day he started to vomit (see House of Vomit). Apparently it started at 4pm after he woke up from his nap.

Somehow I don’t think Abang will want to stay “full day” again for awhile!

House of Vomit

I was wrong - it wasn't me who picked up Adik's stomach bug, it was Abang!

Poor Abang. When I fetched him from kindergarten on Tuesday, his teacher informed me that he had vomited several times, although very little came out. Of course the story was spiced up by his classmates, all of whom were eagerly telling me how “today he just vomit, vomit, vomit” and “upstairs he vomit, then downstairs also he vomit” all the time while Abang was crying away, most likely due to embarrassment than anything else.

By evening, he had vomited more than 10 times and he couldn’t even hold down water. So another trip to the ER it was for Mummy (2 trips in just 2 days!). The doctor administered a suppository and instructed me to administer another one after 8 hours, if required.

Unfortunately, he still couldn’t hold anything down. The next morning, I administered another suppository but still he threw up whatever he took. That’s when I realised it was serious and suspected he might need to be admitted.

His paediatrician confirmed my suspicions and we started the admissions procedure. Abang was so weak and tired from all that vomiting, plus the lack of nutrition going into his body, that he just sat on my lap the whole time and leaned his head either on my chest or on the table in front of him.

Putting the needle in for the IV drip was quite traumatic. It was made worse by the fact that the doctor had a difficult time finding a vein. So they actually had to poke him twice. Poke once, needle goes in, crying starts, “no, no, cannot” says the doctor, then needle comes out, crying continues, look for another vein, squeeze arm really hard, crying even harder, needle goes in again, get some blood out for blood test, crying crying crying all the way.

Still, by the time we went up to his room, his mood was much better. In fact, when Ant J came to visit about an hour later, he invited her for a sleep over at the hospital!

“Ant J, would you like to go back and take your baju tidur and sleep here with me tonight?” he asked, as if it were a camping trip.

Ant J was surprised but open to the idea and we agreed that she could be my backup if he preferred her to stay with him that night instead of me (Daddy was, unfortunately, away on business).

By that time he had stopped vomiting and would even eat a bit but more importantly he was drinking – and holding down – water. It was relatively calm overnight, except for one occasion when he had to be ‘force fed’ the paracetamol half asleep.

For those who have had the misfortune of staying in hospital, you will know to expect the 6am barge-in by the nurses. On cue – nurses came in, lights came on, thermometer stuffed under Abang’s arm and then I realised that his overnight diaper had leaked. After changing him and getting his sheets changed, there was no way he would go back to sleep.

When his doctor came to do his rounds, Abang was obviously better and I could report decent input and NORMAL output and Doc gave us the thumbs up to go home that evening. Abang was definitely better as he could push his own IV stand from his room to the playroom.

Daddy came back from his trip and was with us most of the afternoon. In fact, when Abang woke up from his nap he was so happy to see his Daddy there. When they went for a walk around the ward, he got Daddy to carry him and I was sure Abang gave me a very contented smile - one that said, "I'm so happy to have my Daddy again!"

As nice as the nurses were, we were all really looking forward to going home.

By 6:15pm we were all back under one roof. Hooray!

The Case of The Exploding Diaper

Adik was down with a fever over the weekend. On Friday he woke up crying away with a fever. The whole day the fever was up and down, as it normally would be, but he was generally quite active.

Then on Saturday morning he woke up a bit earlier than normal, around 6:30am, and was again very hot. Unfortunately, he couldn’t hold down his breakfast. I just gave him the paracetamol anyway and then put him back to bed as he was all floppy and lethargic. Basically, whatever little bit he ate on Saturday came right back out, shall we say, from both ends. And all he wanted to do was sleep. He must have caught a stomach bug.

Needless to say he went to bed that night without dinner because his tired little body just wanted to rest! 2 middle-of-the-night sessions of drinking water and having some biscuits made it through his system by early the next morning, causing him to e-x-p-L-O-D-E in his diaper.

Bear in mind I haven’t done this cleaning of butts in the middle of the night for a long time. When he woke up very feverish at 7am, it really did feel like the middle of the night for me.

By about 10:30am, he was very whiny and fussy, very unlike him. At one point he even threw down his pacifier – it was that bad! We took him to the Emergency Room at the nearby hospital just in case it was anything more serious.

The rest of the day for Adik was spent either sleeping, or going to sleep, or being cranky because he wasn’t asleep. You’d be forgiven for thinking that gave me a nice break – seeing as Adik refused to be with anyone else and would scream when I tried to pass him off – but because of his illness, his sleep was very restless and interrupted. I ended up having to put him back to sleep every half hour or so.

Sunday night was similar to Saturday night, and lo and behold, Monday morning was similar to Sunday morning with The Case of The Exploding Diaper. I know this routine now: Strip Adik, wash him off thoroughly, then do it again, then a quick bath, then a fresh clean diaper plus clothes and finally pass him off kicking and screaming. Next up: Remove soiled sheets, soak Adik’s soiled pyjamas, sheets and mattress cover.

Thankfully, throughout Monday he started eating again almost like normal and was actually relatively cheerful. He still had bouts of whininess and crankiness, probably still some discomfort, but obviously on the mend.

I, on the other hand, may have caught what Adik had.

At least I won’t have the problem of exploding diapers.

Food, Glorious Food?

There’s a certain irony to seeing lavish buffet spreads and ramadhan bazaars sprout like mushrooms during the fasting month. I mean, this is the month when we’re supposed to eat less; not fast during the day and gorge all you can after sunset. But hey, that’s just me.

Abang is starting to understand what ‘puasa’ means. Of course I don’t let him fast now, he’s only 3 and a half years old and the sugar-low induced tantrums would kill me and I might just take him with me. But he knows what it means. Just the other day I was trying to get him to take a shower when he got back from kindergarten.

“Come Abang, let’s mandi. You’re all sweaty from kindergarten.”

“Don’t want to mandi. Abang ‘puasa mandi’ so I will only mandi at night.”

I think Adik will have a tougher time with fasting when he’s older. The boy just LOVES food. Not just what I put on his plate, either. He’ll go for everyone else’s meals (even if he’s had his already) plus anything he finds on the floor. Which is fine if it’s at home but not at, say, Kizsports. Hypothetically speaking, if he were to find, say, dropped fries on the floor of Kizsports 1Utama, he might, hypothetically speaking, just pick one up and put it in his mouth. I’m not saying he actually did that one time during the last school holidays when I took him, Abang and Cuz to play there. No, no, this is just a hypothetical situation.

Anyway, back to those bazaars. We usually avoid it like the plague because everything looks so good when you’re hungry. All the more when you go in the evening just before breaking fast when you’re really, really hungry. My auntie wanted to go to the neighbourhood bazaar one day, so I obliged. She didn’t exactly buy up the whole bazaar – although I could tell she wanted to – but add what she bought, PLUS some other stuff our maid bought as well, to the home-cooked food that had already been prepared for dinner that night, and you have a recipe for too much food.

The next day, she wanted to go again and I said no. Actually, she said “Let’s go find some kueh.” and I said “No, thanks.”

Same goes for the ramadhan buffets. As a family, we never go. Firstly, it’s expensive. Secondly, it’s tiring. When you have to wake up at 4:30am the next morning, early bedtime is key.

Thirdly, and I feel, most importantly, is the fact that this month of all months is when we shouldn’t be stuffing our faces. I don’t see how we can possibly ‘empathise’ with the poor and destitute who struggle to get a decent meal when we pay RM30 and up to put as much food on our plate as we can and then not finish it.

And if you’re not going to eat that much, why go to a buffet?

Going to The Zoo

Big animals, little animals. None were caged and most were allowed to roam free. However, not of the 4-legged variety. Nope, this was IKEA on a public holiday.

We got there at 10:35am and there was a sea of cars in the parking lot already.

Abang made a bee line for the children’s section to play with the toys. There was no way Adik was going to sit in his stroller for much longer, too much fun to be had!

I’ve always been amazed at little children – girls, especially – who can sit there quietly and play with a toy for a long time, that is, more than 5 minutes. Mine will take the toy where you hammer the nails in and after 2 nails will decide that it’s much more fun to hammer the table instead. Or, hammer a different toy. Or, like Adik, who took a stool, moved it away from the table, set it behind this lady who was playing with her daughter, and grabbed on to her dress while trying to STAND on the stool! I had been distracted looking out for Abang and didn’t realise Adik had done that. At least the lady looked amused and didn’t give me one of those icy Can-You-Please-Control-Your-Child stares.

Oh no, that came later.

When it was time for the boys to have some lunch, we headed to the restaurant. Abang was playing nicely at the restaurant play area so at 11:25 Adik and I joined the rather short queue waiting for the hot meals to be served.

They were late and Adik wasn’t going to sit still being carried by his Mummy. He had places to go (snaking around people’s legs), people to see (the ones who own those legs, I guess). I tried to distract him with a spoon – too noisy – then with serviettes – too messy – and finally he just tipped my tray over. No food, but lots of serviettes and cutlery flying around. 15 minutes of queuing up was just too much to bear for a restless 14 month old. So I tried some roughhousing instead.

What a mistake. Not only did Adik’s giggles intermingled with whining earn me The Stare, the roughhousing actually made his diapers slip downwards. Just as we were about to be served, I bent down to tickle him and realised with horror that his entire trousers was soaked! Oh, cr*p. (Not literally, thank goodness.)

After changing Adik in the baby room while muttering and grumbling to myself, we decided to leave and poor Abang had to make do with curry puff instead of spaghetti.

Lessons learnt: a) Stick to non-public holiday weekdays and, b) Arrive after 11:30am but before 12pm, i.e. before the zoo opens.

My Son Thinks He’s a Cat (And My Cat Thinks He’s a Dog!)

Ok, I know that sounds a bit odd. But let me give you some background to our cat extended family.

Harun is our orange cat. He’s been with us since birth and has never known the harsh life of a stray. Thomas, the darker coloured cat, was a stray that found his way into our home (and our hearts!).

They got along really, really well and were not a threat to each other at all, which was strange as they are both male cats (yes, they have both been neutered). Anyway, we decided to call him Thomas because he bore an uncanny resemblance to our previous cat, Tom.

Thomas, the ex-stray cat, chows down his IAMS like there’s no tomorrow. I guess stray cats not only have to go looking for their own food, there’s no telling when they’ll have their next good meal. (Lizards, cockroaches, rats and grasshoppers are more like snacks and not what they’d consider a “good meal”.) So, when a bowl of IAMS is staring at you in the face, chow down! And if you can, grab your friend’s too!

While Harun is quite an active cat, Thomas is more sedate. In fact, a couple of times we saw Thomas scarfing down his lunch and then throwing up. Great. A bulimic ex-stray cat. Just what we need.

Both Harun and Thomas like to sharpen their claws on our mango tree. And one fine day, I caught Abang doing it!

“Mummy, look. I do like Harun.” Scratch, scratch, scratch on the mango tree.

Hmmm. “Um ... Abang, what ARE you doing?”

“I do like Haruuuun,” he replied impatiently, scratching away, wondering why his mummy can’t see the obvious – that he’s just doing what normal cats do. Luckily he hasn’t tried to use the litter box.

Then there’s Harun who comes over when we call him. Honest! It’s almost dog-like. And he’d run up and down the garden with us and sprints from one end of the garden to the other. If we had a Frisbee, I wonder if he’d retrieve it for us after we toss it.

Not just that – whenever we come home and he’s at the front door, while we’re trying to unlock the door he stands up on his hind legs and rests his front paws on our leg. The claws don’t come out, so it’s nice for us, but he has no ‘grip’ and so after a few seconds he kinda slides down our leg. The only thing he doesn’t do is wag his tail.

So we have a boy who thinks he’s a cat, a cat that behaves like a dog and another cat that’s bulimic (but by no stretch of the imagination would anyone think he’s anorexic). Identity crisis looms in our household!

Things Children Say: Part 2

Last week I had a chat with my son’s kindergarten principal. I wanted to find out how he’s doing at school. Generally, she said he doesn’t like writing or colouring but enjoys reading time and his listening comprehension is very good.

And then she said, “He even participates in group discussions.” I thought, wow! My 3 year old son can speak up during class discussion. It’s more than I can say for many university students I’ve met. Heck, even a lot of adults don’t speak up at meetings.

But then, Abang has been talking since he was a year old. By the time his first birthday came around, he could say “Mummy” and “Daddy” very clearly. He also had specific words like “biyapi” which was “keretapi”. We have always made it a point not to baby talk to him or Adik and so far it seems to show good results.

We also try as far as possible to make sure we use correct grammar, rather than trying to ‘simplify’ things for him. If there’s one thing we have learnt is that children are much smarter than we usually give them credit for!

In fact, lately, his English has improved by leaps and bounds.

Once at KLCC, Breitling had an exhibition at the centre court with an actual airplane there. He was so excited, he exclaimed, “Wow this is so big! See? See how big it is?”

Another time he suddenly bumped into me and I asked him, “Hey, what did you do that for?” He answered, “I’m trying to avoid something.” I don’t think I knew the word “avoid” until I was much older!

Then there are other instances:

“I want to show you where the toy is.” And not “… where is the toy.”

"I don't like this song," he told me in the car while listening to the radio. So I changed radio stations and asked him if he liked that song instead. He answered, "I don't like this song either."

“Hey look! Adik is trying to figure out how to play the game.”

“Look, Mummy, I am much taller than the cow!”

Of course, sometimes, it’s just plain funny. (Well, embarrassing to me but funny to the third party). At the hairdresser he was given a sweet so I was trying to coax a ‘thank you’ out of him, “Oh, how nice of Auntie to give you a sweet! What do you say?” And he said, “Nak lagi.” Talk about embarrassing, not only does my son not know his manners, he’s a greedy little fella to boot!

This is my all-time favourite:

“Abang, let’s go visit Auntie Mary and we can give her the baby gift. Aunty Mary just had a new baby, you know?”

Pause. Then with a touch of concern on his face, he asked,

“What happened to the old baby?”

My Pacifier, My Best Friend

I used to hate pacifiers. They looked really ugly to me, hanging out of children’s mouths. I mean, if they’re all bright and happy running around the mall, what kind of “pacifying” do they need? They don’t look like they need anything to “pacify” them.

To me, pacifiers should only be used to, strangely enough, pacify babies and very young children. When Abang was a baby, he was a very – how shall I put this – “highly spirited” and “high need” baby which I suppose is just a more polite way of saying he was fussy, cranky and cried a lot. He “needed” a lot of feeding, attention – generally a lot of contact hours. If I were his lecturer, he would have used up all the contact hours outside of lecture times, and would even have demanded extra tutorials. If I were a restaurant, he would have made sure I was Mom’s All Day & All Night Dining: Open 24 Hours.

So we tried the pacifier on him. Pfft – he spit it out and demanded the real thing instead. Ok, fine. We threw all the pacifiers out.

When Adik came along, I nursed him too. The problem with nursing is that it’s hard to predict when baby’s next feed will be as it’s not quite as predictable as bottle-feeding. A fair number of times we got caught with Adik suddenly wanting a feed in the middle of a journey. Not wanting to take him out of his car seat, we just distracted him as much as possible to stop or avoid the crying.

After several incidences, we decided to try the pacifier. Hey, he likes it! Excellent, no more crying jags in the car. However, as a rule, we only ever give Adik the pacifier when he’s sleepy or, for whatever reason, we don’t seem to be able to pacify him, i.e. he’s not hungry, not thirsty, not bored or over stimulated, etc. I’m fine with the pacifier as a sleeping aid and to pacify him, but if he’s not fussing, then no pacifier.

Unfortunately, he liked it a bit too much and by the time he was 4 months old he rejected the real thing. I was a bit disappointed, but looked on the bright side – this all day eatery is closed!

Initially, I was very particular – pacifier only to help him fall asleep. Once he’s asleep, pull the pacifier out. That lasted all of, oh, I think, about a month? After that, it was, “Oh, never mind, he seems to sleep better with it.” Which was true, and still is till today. He can now feel around the bed for it when he stirs in the middle of the night and put himself back to sleep using the pacifier without needing my help! Not all the time, of course, but most of the time, which is more than I can say for Abang.

The question now is: When should I start to wean myself of his pacifier? It’s so nice to be able to sleep through the night – yes, for Adik, too I'm sure – that I’m dreading the day I have to start weaning us both off his best sleep friend.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Toddlers

It seems like Abang has turned into a teenager. Or, at least, he’s certainly acting like a teenager.

Firstly, for reasons unknown to man, he now likes wearing his really (and I mean REALLY) grotty slippers. He has nice shoes, but noooo, he has to wear his very worn out slippers. Sloppy is in, I guess. The only way I can get him to wear his nice shoes is if I distract him as we get in the car and then surreptitiously throw his shoes in after strapping him into his booster seat. Otherwise, I’ll have to walk around the shops or mall with a sloppy toddler/ teenager.

Then there's hogging the computer. Even though it's only Playhouse Disney Online, which is a great site for kids, but he's clocked up enough online hours to earn a long distance PhD, i.e. Play-houseDisney. Still, it's just a hop, skip and a jump to Yahoo! Messenger and Google Talk. And the volume on the computer can’t be on low, oh no, it must be on high. And volume on the toddler also is on high as he sings along with the music.

The other day he said he wanted to nap by himself in his room. He locked himself in the room (don’t worry, I have keys to all the rooms in the house in stand-by position) and blasted his radio full blast. Funny way to nap, if you ask me, but then who knows what goes on in the minds of toddlers who are 3 going on 13.

At least he complied when I asked him to turn the music down. Actually, let me rephrase, he didn’t turn the music down because he claims he didn’t know how to (strange, considering he could turn it up). But he didn’t complain when I “helped” him turn the volume down.

One time he arranged his pillows on his bed and spread his blanket over them and it looked almost like he was lying there under the covers. Now THIS one I got to watch out for. Next thing you know, he’ll be sneaking out after bedtime to meet with his other 3-year old friends to play their Playdoh or Thomas. Or, worse still, they get together with other Mat Toddlers to race on their tricycles!

He has also recently learnt to take photos using my handphone – luckily he hasn’t asked for his own yet. He likes taking pictures of the people around him, including one of himself taking a picture of the mirror.

We haven’t even got through the Terrible Three’s yet (and Adik has yet to experience the joys of the Terrible Tantrums) and we’re headed to Teenage Angst already. I guess this is nature’s way of preparing us for the turbulence up ahead.