Today, mothers are the busiest lot. Especially working mothers. In Singapore, kiasu parenting is real. My colleagues are considered mild I think. Their children go to piano AND violin classes, but because the children themselves are interested to learn. So far I have not met anyone who push their kids to enrichment classes. But Singaporean parents want their kids to learn and master at least one additional skill, be it music or art or sports. Fair enough.
While we work tirelessly to strive to be a better mother everyday, we forgot to stop and ask our kids how they are. It's something so simple yet easily forgettable. And then I came across this article by Erin Kurt who is a teacher. On every Mother's Day, she would ask her students things their mothers or guardians did to make them feel loved and happy. This assignment of 16 years drew the same conclusions. And these made me smile and tear up a bit because I am not doing these with Daniel as frequently as I used to since Darren came along, and I feel bad. This article just revived my mummy spirit! Here it is:
The Top Ten Things Kids Really Want Their Parents To Do With Them
1. Come into my bedroom at night, tuck me in and sing me a song. Also tell me stories about when you were little.
2. Give me hugs and kisses and sit and talk with me privately.
3. Spend quality time just with me, not with my brothers and sisters around.
4. Give me nutritious food so I can grow up healthy.
5. At dinner talk about what we could do together on the weekend.
6. At night talk to me about anything; love, school, family etc.
7. Let me play outside a lot.
8. Cuddle under a blanket and watch our favorite TV show together.
9. Discipline me. It makes me feel like you care.
10. Leave special messages in my desk or lunch bag.
Do you feel your heart tingling like mine right now?
Monday, May 21, 2012
Thursday, May 17, 2012
The Little Things...
..are the ones that keep a happy marriage, happier.
Recently, we had kept little surprises in each other's car when we leave for work. I'd leave a cereal bar snack in his car when he's too busy or forgets to have his lunch, and this morning after a whole night of coughing, I saw a packet of Woods Lozenges tucked in my middle compartment as I was leaving home in the morning.
Sweetness.
Recently, we had kept little surprises in each other's car when we leave for work. I'd leave a cereal bar snack in his car when he's too busy or forgets to have his lunch, and this morning after a whole night of coughing, I saw a packet of Woods Lozenges tucked in my middle compartment as I was leaving home in the morning.
Sweetness.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Men have...
...penile advantage. It is a privilege boys are born with and will carry it for the rest of their lives. It's like a golden supreme VIP card for life. No application or renewal required. It is just automatic. ESPECIALLY in Asia. ESPECIALLY the generation before... this generation.
With this membership of the penile supremacy club, His Majesty will enjoy the following privileges and immunities:
1. Household care is not his core responsibility. If he does help out with some housechores, he is a Westerner, or they live in a Western country. Or it is to repay some spiritual karma he owes from his past lives. A man's place is not in the kitchen, unless he is Jamie Oliver or that hot sexy Anthony Bourdain.
2. Childcare involves mostly play, roughplay, tickleplay, holding the kid upside down, watching TV together and handing the kid a smartphone installed with many games. If he cleans up his baby's poop soiled butt, it is to repay some spiritual karma as well.
3. If he falls sick, he can rest and sleep all day in the room WITHOUT disturbances. And be served porridge and medication. On the contrary, if a mother falls sick, she still drags her body out of bed because the kids are incessantly harrassing her for this and that.
4. When planning for a trip, all he does is approve or disapprove. The wife will do the research, book the most ideal and cost-effective accomodation, arrange transportation, book flights, buy travel insurance and a map.
5. When travelling, he loads and unloads the packed luggages, and drive. If not driving, then he's just the bag boy. The wife will pack EVERYTHING in an organized manner, unpack upon arriving at destination, repack everything and unpack everything at home after the trip. Including the baby stuff.
6. When quarelling, he can just take off to have a drink with his friends at their favourite bar. He can confide in his friends or the bartender, or just chill and cool down. She, on the other hand, cannot just take off and leave her kids unattended, or the dishes unwashed in the sink. She would just have to bear with it, or release the anger fumes while doing the dishes and putting the kids to bed. And then fume more, when she's alone in bed while he is out drinking.
7. The corporate world out there. Nuff said.
How many of these are true?
With this membership of the penile supremacy club, His Majesty will enjoy the following privileges and immunities:
1. Household care is not his core responsibility. If he does help out with some housechores, he is a Westerner, or they live in a Western country. Or it is to repay some spiritual karma he owes from his past lives. A man's place is not in the kitchen, unless he is Jamie Oliver or that hot sexy Anthony Bourdain.
2. Childcare involves mostly play, roughplay, tickleplay, holding the kid upside down, watching TV together and handing the kid a smartphone installed with many games. If he cleans up his baby's poop soiled butt, it is to repay some spiritual karma as well.
3. If he falls sick, he can rest and sleep all day in the room WITHOUT disturbances. And be served porridge and medication. On the contrary, if a mother falls sick, she still drags her body out of bed because the kids are incessantly harrassing her for this and that.
4. When planning for a trip, all he does is approve or disapprove. The wife will do the research, book the most ideal and cost-effective accomodation, arrange transportation, book flights, buy travel insurance and a map.
5. When travelling, he loads and unloads the packed luggages, and drive. If not driving, then he's just the bag boy. The wife will pack EVERYTHING in an organized manner, unpack upon arriving at destination, repack everything and unpack everything at home after the trip. Including the baby stuff.
6. When quarelling, he can just take off to have a drink with his friends at their favourite bar. He can confide in his friends or the bartender, or just chill and cool down. She, on the other hand, cannot just take off and leave her kids unattended, or the dishes unwashed in the sink. She would just have to bear with it, or release the anger fumes while doing the dishes and putting the kids to bed. And then fume more, when she's alone in bed while he is out drinking.
7. The corporate world out there. Nuff said.
How many of these are true?
Friday, April 27, 2012
Eczema Update
I have a good product to share if you have dry, ITCHY, flaky eczema like me.
You can buy them here.
Why I like it:
It is natural and organic. Some of the healing ingredients are neem, burdock, Vitamin A, Vitamin E and bearberry. It contains no parabens, phthalates, sodium laurel sulfates, petroleum, artificial color, coal, pine tars and steroids.
Why I LOVE it:
It REALLY relieves itching. If you feel like you have spent your entire life itching and oozing and resisting urge to scratch only to succumb and suffer the after-scratch ugliness, I feel your frustrations. My eczema is well controlled now. I shower with the body wash, and then apply the cream generously all over my body. The flakiness and itch were gone after about 3-4 days. Do you know how it feels to be freed of the itchiness?!!
So ya, I never do product reviews, but this one, I just gotta share.
You can buy them here.
Why I like it:
It is natural and organic. Some of the healing ingredients are neem, burdock, Vitamin A, Vitamin E and bearberry. It contains no parabens, phthalates, sodium laurel sulfates, petroleum, artificial color, coal, pine tars and steroids.
Why I LOVE it:
It REALLY relieves itching. If you feel like you have spent your entire life itching and oozing and resisting urge to scratch only to succumb and suffer the after-scratch ugliness, I feel your frustrations. My eczema is well controlled now. I shower with the body wash, and then apply the cream generously all over my body. The flakiness and itch were gone after about 3-4 days. Do you know how it feels to be freed of the itchiness?!!
So ya, I never do product reviews, but this one, I just gotta share.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Dreams
I came across this picture and went , "HOLY MALONEY! This was what my dreams looked like!" Almost like this! I always had bizarre dreams when I was younger, probably late teens to early twenties. And I remember some of them until now!
There were several times I dreamt of swimming in a dark sea at night, and it was very scary! Or I would be swimming near an island, the sea was dark greenish blue and very deep. And then I'd be lifted high up into the sky and free-fall back into the sea water! F.R.I.G.H.T.E.N.I.N.G !! I'd clench my teeth and grimace as if I'm in a roller coaster. And I HATE roller coasters! Why are my dreams so scary?
So the next best move is to connect to the internet and google 'dreams interpretation'.
According to dreamforth, 'swimming in the sea in darkness/night' means:
To dream of the sea reflects your current emotions, whether they be rough or calm. It also symbolizes the conversion between your unconscious and conscious mind. The dream may also suggest your observation of a certain situation or feeling. There may be a notion that you need to 'see' more clearly. In addition, the dream may represent a need for confidence and security, or the need to offer someone else comfort and ease.
Night
To dream of night denotes serious difficulty and hurdles in achieving your real life goals. There are still gray areas about some issues affecting your life. You have to put aside your prejudice and objectively look at the circumstances when you tackle these issues.
Swimming
To dream that you are swimming implies that you are entering a period of self-discovery and personal growth. Perhaps you need assistance with matters pertaining to your feelings. This is a normal dream for people who are seeking professional emotional healing. To dream that you are swimming underwater indicates that you feel overwhelmed by your emotions. Perhaps you are pushing yourself too hard to confront these issues.
To dream that you fall and are frightened represents that you do not have balance or power in your life. You could be undergoing massive difficulties or a problem that is consuming you. You may not have been able to attain your ambitions.
SO. I guess when I was that age, I went through some emotional, spiritual reformation or battle or something. I think I know the reason...
There were several times I dreamt of swimming in a dark sea at night, and it was very scary! Or I would be swimming near an island, the sea was dark greenish blue and very deep. And then I'd be lifted high up into the sky and free-fall back into the sea water! F.R.I.G.H.T.E.N.I.N.G !! I'd clench my teeth and grimace as if I'm in a roller coaster. And I HATE roller coasters! Why are my dreams so scary?
So the next best move is to connect to the internet and google 'dreams interpretation'.
According to dreamforth, 'swimming in the sea in darkness/night' means:
To dream of the sea reflects your current emotions, whether they be rough or calm. It also symbolizes the conversion between your unconscious and conscious mind. The dream may also suggest your observation of a certain situation or feeling. There may be a notion that you need to 'see' more clearly. In addition, the dream may represent a need for confidence and security, or the need to offer someone else comfort and ease.
Night
To dream of night denotes serious difficulty and hurdles in achieving your real life goals. There are still gray areas about some issues affecting your life. You have to put aside your prejudice and objectively look at the circumstances when you tackle these issues.
Swimming
To dream that you are swimming implies that you are entering a period of self-discovery and personal growth. Perhaps you need assistance with matters pertaining to your feelings. This is a normal dream for people who are seeking professional emotional healing. To dream that you are swimming underwater indicates that you feel overwhelmed by your emotions. Perhaps you are pushing yourself too hard to confront these issues.
To dream that you fall and are frightened represents that you do not have balance or power in your life. You could be undergoing massive difficulties or a problem that is consuming you. You may not have been able to attain your ambitions.
SO. I guess when I was that age, I went through some emotional, spiritual reformation or battle or something. I think I know the reason...
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Two Awesome Videos
Caine put a smile on my face and.. and some touching tears! He's a 9 year old boy who built an elaborate arcade using cardboard boxes! And he reminds me of Daniel because of his hair and missing front tooth!
And this. IS. A. GENIUS. ADVERTISING IDEA.
Enjoy!
And this. IS. A. GENIUS. ADVERTISING IDEA.
Enjoy!
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Babies and Mothers on Cough Nights
When a young child has a cough, say goodbye to peaceful nights. *all mothers are nodding in unison*
Enemy to most parents, is the itchy-throat cough. I had it and it is worst cough. I coughed till my ribs ached in pain for 2 weeks.
But for young children, the itchy-throat cough means you may never sleep tonight. And the next. And the next.
First, the poor baby coughs and coughs. And then comes pukefest. ON the bed. Milk, stomach juice and mucus have a party together on the bed sheet but you'll have no time to clean it immediately. You have to scoop your child up and wash him up, change his clothes, comfort him if he's crying while you are glaring at the puke party seeping deeper and deeper into the unwashable part of the mattress, then you grab a towel labelled 'Puke Towel' and try to clean up the mess, then you change the sheets.
Now, the mess is different from any other mess you've handled. Milk curdles, acidic gastric juice and mucus are the nastiest mess. OH GLORY. It's slimy, sticky and feels oily even after you wipe 10 times. It never seem to go away. You will need industrial strength detergent, the hardcore ones. You either soak the soiled towel, sheets and his clothes in a pail of water and handle the stinky water tomorrow, or you rub off the mess first to make things easier tomorrow. I can spend the whole night rinsing a puke towel.
And then guess what. This repeats at an ungodly hour. I became smarter the second time. I placed him to sleep under a big towel so that if he puked, it'll be on the towel and not the bed sheet. Clever right? No, Murphy outsmarted me and tells him to puke OUTSIDE the towel, onto the bed sheet. I now know why mothers have 50 bedsheets and towels.
So, I get a puke bucket, strategically placed within reach so that when I hear the first sign of cough, I can grab the bucket and hold it under his chin at the speed of light. Does this work? Not always. The law of physics clearly states that no puke shall land safely on towels. Sigh, rinse and repeat.
Goodnight.
Enemy to most parents, is the itchy-throat cough. I had it and it is worst cough. I coughed till my ribs ached in pain for 2 weeks.
But for young children, the itchy-throat cough means you may never sleep tonight. And the next. And the next.
First, the poor baby coughs and coughs. And then comes pukefest. ON the bed. Milk, stomach juice and mucus have a party together on the bed sheet but you'll have no time to clean it immediately. You have to scoop your child up and wash him up, change his clothes, comfort him if he's crying while you are glaring at the puke party seeping deeper and deeper into the unwashable part of the mattress, then you grab a towel labelled 'Puke Towel' and try to clean up the mess, then you change the sheets.
Now, the mess is different from any other mess you've handled. Milk curdles, acidic gastric juice and mucus are the nastiest mess. OH GLORY. It's slimy, sticky and feels oily even after you wipe 10 times. It never seem to go away. You will need industrial strength detergent, the hardcore ones. You either soak the soiled towel, sheets and his clothes in a pail of water and handle the stinky water tomorrow, or you rub off the mess first to make things easier tomorrow. I can spend the whole night rinsing a puke towel.
And then guess what. This repeats at an ungodly hour. I became smarter the second time. I placed him to sleep under a big towel so that if he puked, it'll be on the towel and not the bed sheet. Clever right? No, Murphy outsmarted me and tells him to puke OUTSIDE the towel, onto the bed sheet. I now know why mothers have 50 bedsheets and towels.
So, I get a puke bucket, strategically placed within reach so that when I hear the first sign of cough, I can grab the bucket and hold it under his chin at the speed of light. Does this work? Not always. The law of physics clearly states that no puke shall land safely on towels. Sigh, rinse and repeat.
Goodnight.
Wednesday, April 04, 2012
Monday, March 26, 2012
The Golfers Club Syndrome
I just found that long drives are awesome for couple talk! Provided the monkeys are asleep, I'm not asleep and the traffic is relaxed.
It's hard to have a long hearty chat on normals days. Husband is up to his neck with work, wife has full time job, we come home tired but momentarily uplifted by our adorable children's smiles and laughters, occasionally cranky whines and screaming, we eat dinner together, have a quick and brief update on our day, entertain the kids or let them entertain us while we rot on the couch heehee, get their homework checked, bath them, read to them, chill and put them to bed. That leaves us little time for ourselves, let alone time for each other at the end of the day. So there really isn't time for those long endless deep talk under the moonlight.
But last weekend, we did! We took a short trip up to attend a relative's wedding. We started our journey after dinner, and when the boys fell asleep, we had nothing but an open road in front of us and plenty of time to chat. And it's funny I don't remember how we started and how we somehow came to the topic I've been wanting to share for a long time:
Why are men* ALWAYS at the golf club.
*men referring to his fellow club members, mostly golfers, and business associates
Why. Why. Why. Why. Why.
Is there a secret strip cult we wives are unaware of? Is there an underground bowling alley with gutter-proof lanes? Is there an all-year round Santa Rina in Adidas miniskirt handing out golf ball candies? Is there a shaft-balls-and-hole game you guys secretly play somewhere under the putting green? What? What? Give me something here!
Let me tell you the typical duration a golfer spends at the club. On some weekdays, after he runs his business or whatever, he is able to play the 9th hole at 4 or 5pm, which pretty much ends at 6.30 to 7pm. Then he chills and hang out at the bar with beer and organic macadamia nuts and fruits... No, fuck the organic nuts and fruits. Ok, just beer. And liquor. They chill and chat, maybe for half an hour I don't know, then other members who just finished their course come and join in. At this point, maybe someone was about to go home and have dinner with his loving family who awaits him with a grand feast garnished with spikes and ohsofresh turf on the sides, but then another chap hollers, "WOI! COME DRINK LA, I OPENED ANOTHER BOTTLE, WHY LEAVE SO SOON?!" After another half an hour or so, repeat this. And repeat. Repeat this on weekends too, for some.
I'm not really good at maths, but a snail knows if you add many half and hours, it becomes 3 years, no? And some of the families of these men, have young children at home. And some, don't. Because they are old. These old men don't care if there are young men who wants to go home and have dinner with their loving wives and young children. They just want to hang out and have alcohol parties. Mystery of life, don't men go home to have dinners with their family?
This could happen everyday of the week. But not for me. I made it clear that it is of utmost importance that we all have dinner together, AT the table, at least 365 times a year. Statistically, this is not possible because of the alcoholic golfers from the club.I kid, I kid. Seriously, they HAVE to keep themselves in the circle. I totally get it. Back in school, it was fun to hang out after school hours. We always 'stayed back' to hang out because we just wanted to chill and be in the cool people click and see who could stick around the longest. Is the club syndrome the same?
So this led me to ask the husband, "Am I the most anal wife among your friends' wives?" Anal here refers to the resentment associated with his club syndrome. Not the other kinky kind of anal. I mean, I give him the black face when he comes home late with the stench of liquor. I always wonder if the other wives are as anal as me, or are they Saint Stepford Wife. Do they welcome their drunk husbands home with a herbal tea drink and cookie, take off their stinky socks, give them a foot rub and blow job? Are they always angelic and perfectly okay with the not-coming-home-for-dinner/will-be-home-at-2am habitual announcements? I am baffled. I constantly ask myself, why am I such a bitch.
He said, "No, hunny-bunny. You are the best wife". You know what sweet words do to women right. We stopped the car and had hot high school sex. No, sorry, that didn't happen. He said, "I did get mad at you for giving me black faces when I had to go out"
The keywords here are had to. Have to, has to, had to. Men are biologically wired to go out to network and hunt. Just like cavemen. In the business world, networking is vital to your survival. So it is obligatory that he mingles. Every businessmen attest to this. I totally get it. You gotta sacrifice your liver and your precious family time. No biggie, because that ultimately puts food on the table. And a nice Gucci luggage for annual overseas vacations.
Again, this led me to argue that all these resentments are caused by several factors we didn't realize before.
Childhood Family Lifestyle
My dad ALWAYS came home for dinner. He was and still is a golfer, but he would come home to eat with me, or made sure I ate. He was a very social and outward-bound kinda guy. If he was at home, we'd watch action thriller movies together from his collection of Laser Disks. Remember them?! He'd take me on camping trips with a bunch of friends at Pulau Besar, Sibu and Tioman. He'd take me out on a weekend adventure, to somewhere but home. He'd take me to the club swimming pool. He'd take me to the driving range and teach me how to swing a neat 100m shot. I practically grew up in the club. So naturally, I expected the husband to do the same. The only disadvantage is that I can drive. Fuck independence.
I Have A Job
He has a job. I have a job. Fair. But I have to do most of the childcare, household errands, homey stuff. Imagine we don't have a domestic helper. *die* We both contribute to the household finance, so I'd expect that we share equal responsibility at home, be it time, energy and attention, mostly for the children. Fair? I mean, you think I don't want to go shopping on my own? You think I don't want to just sit peacefully with a good book for hours? Sometimes I do! But we mothers are one of a kind, we are physically and emotionally attached to our children but every now and then, we would like to break off a while and be who we are before we became mothers. The men get to do that almost everyday for hours on the green. They get to be themselves, not a father, not a husband, just themselves, as guys with balls and a stick. UN.FAIR.
I Am A Broken Home Kid
Secret's out. Beneath the perky sunshine Ally you see, I grew up not knowing what a happy family is. The husband hypothesize that I subconsciously want to prevent another broken home. Like I said, a family that eats together, stays together. Hence the insistence on the dinner thingy. Isn't he a genius.
I Don't Have Friends In JB
I think this one hit the jackpot. My friends are in Singapore, KL, Australia, Germany, Canada, U.S. pun ade. I have a few friends in JB I guess, but all are busy moms. Busy working moms, like myself. Hardly ever meet up for hi-tea or mahjong, or shopping. On the other hand, the husband is a social butterfly.
So there. Married couple talk for you. Actually, we have talked about this before, but not to this depth. And it feels so good and relieved! I got his perspective, he got mine. Thank you cousin-in-law for getting married and making us drive all the way to Perak so that we could have this long endless hearty chat under the moonlight :)
It's hard to have a long hearty chat on normals days. Husband is up to his neck with work, wife has full time job, we come home tired but momentarily uplifted by our adorable children's smiles and laughters, occasionally cranky whines and screaming, we eat dinner together, have a quick and brief update on our day, entertain the kids or let them entertain us while we rot on the couch heehee, get their homework checked, bath them, read to them, chill and put them to bed. That leaves us little time for ourselves, let alone time for each other at the end of the day. So there really isn't time for those long endless deep talk under the moonlight.
But last weekend, we did! We took a short trip up to attend a relative's wedding. We started our journey after dinner, and when the boys fell asleep, we had nothing but an open road in front of us and plenty of time to chat. And it's funny I don't remember how we started and how we somehow came to the topic I've been wanting to share for a long time:
Why are men* ALWAYS at the golf club.
*men referring to his fellow club members, mostly golfers, and business associates
Why. Why. Why. Why. Why.
Is there a secret strip cult we wives are unaware of? Is there an underground bowling alley with gutter-proof lanes? Is there an all-year round Santa Rina in Adidas miniskirt handing out golf ball candies? Is there a shaft-balls-and-hole game you guys secretly play somewhere under the putting green? What? What? Give me something here!
Let me tell you the typical duration a golfer spends at the club. On some weekdays, after he runs his business or whatever, he is able to play the 9th hole at 4 or 5pm, which pretty much ends at 6.30 to 7pm. Then he chills and hang out at the bar with beer and organic macadamia nuts and fruits... No, fuck the organic nuts and fruits. Ok, just beer. And liquor. They chill and chat, maybe for half an hour I don't know, then other members who just finished their course come and join in. At this point, maybe someone was about to go home and have dinner with his loving family who awaits him with a grand feast garnished with spikes and ohsofresh turf on the sides, but then another chap hollers, "WOI! COME DRINK LA, I OPENED ANOTHER BOTTLE, WHY LEAVE SO SOON?!" After another half an hour or so, repeat this. And repeat. Repeat this on weekends too, for some.
I'm not really good at maths, but a snail knows if you add many half and hours, it becomes 3 years, no? And some of the families of these men, have young children at home. And some, don't. Because they are old. These old men don't care if there are young men who wants to go home and have dinner with their loving wives and young children. They just want to hang out and have alcohol parties. Mystery of life, don't men go home to have dinners with their family?
This could happen everyday of the week. But not for me. I made it clear that it is of utmost importance that we all have dinner together, AT the table, at least 365 times a year. Statistically, this is not possible because of the alcoholic golfers from the club.I kid, I kid. Seriously, they HAVE to keep themselves in the circle. I totally get it. Back in school, it was fun to hang out after school hours. We always 'stayed back' to hang out because we just wanted to chill and be in the cool people click and see who could stick around the longest. Is the club syndrome the same?
So this led me to ask the husband, "Am I the most anal wife among your friends' wives?" Anal here refers to the resentment associated with his club syndrome. Not the other kinky kind of anal. I mean, I give him the black face when he comes home late with the stench of liquor. I always wonder if the other wives are as anal as me, or are they Saint Stepford Wife. Do they welcome their drunk husbands home with a herbal tea drink and cookie, take off their stinky socks, give them a foot rub and blow job? Are they always angelic and perfectly okay with the not-coming-home-for-dinner/will-be-home-at-2am habitual announcements? I am baffled. I constantly ask myself, why am I such a bitch.
He said, "No, hunny-bunny. You are the best wife". You know what sweet words do to women right. We stopped the car and had hot high school sex. No, sorry, that didn't happen. He said, "I did get mad at you for giving me black faces when I had to go out"
The keywords here are had to. Have to, has to, had to. Men are biologically wired to go out to network and hunt. Just like cavemen. In the business world, networking is vital to your survival. So it is obligatory that he mingles. Every businessmen attest to this. I totally get it. You gotta sacrifice your liver and your precious family time. No biggie, because that ultimately puts food on the table. And a nice Gucci luggage for annual overseas vacations.
Again, this led me to argue that all these resentments are caused by several factors we didn't realize before.
Childhood Family Lifestyle
My dad ALWAYS came home for dinner. He was and still is a golfer, but he would come home to eat with me, or made sure I ate. He was a very social and outward-bound kinda guy. If he was at home, we'd watch action thriller movies together from his collection of Laser Disks. Remember them?! He'd take me on camping trips with a bunch of friends at Pulau Besar, Sibu and Tioman. He'd take me out on a weekend adventure, to somewhere but home. He'd take me to the club swimming pool. He'd take me to the driving range and teach me how to swing a neat 100m shot. I practically grew up in the club. So naturally, I expected the husband to do the same. The only disadvantage is that I can drive. Fuck independence.
I Have A Job
He has a job. I have a job. Fair. But I have to do most of the childcare, household errands, homey stuff. Imagine we don't have a domestic helper. *die* We both contribute to the household finance, so I'd expect that we share equal responsibility at home, be it time, energy and attention, mostly for the children. Fair? I mean, you think I don't want to go shopping on my own? You think I don't want to just sit peacefully with a good book for hours? Sometimes I do! But we mothers are one of a kind, we are physically and emotionally attached to our children but every now and then, we would like to break off a while and be who we are before we became mothers. The men get to do that almost everyday for hours on the green. They get to be themselves, not a father, not a husband, just themselves, as guys with balls and a stick. UN.FAIR.
I Am A Broken Home Kid
Secret's out. Beneath the perky sunshine Ally you see, I grew up not knowing what a happy family is. The husband hypothesize that I subconsciously want to prevent another broken home. Like I said, a family that eats together, stays together. Hence the insistence on the dinner thingy. Isn't he a genius.
I Don't Have Friends In JB
I think this one hit the jackpot. My friends are in Singapore, KL, Australia, Germany, Canada, U.S. pun ade. I have a few friends in JB I guess, but all are busy moms. Busy working moms, like myself. Hardly ever meet up for hi-tea or mahjong, or shopping. On the other hand, the husband is a social butterfly.
So there. Married couple talk for you. Actually, we have talked about this before, but not to this depth. And it feels so good and relieved! I got his perspective, he got mine. Thank you cousin-in-law for getting married and making us drive all the way to Perak so that we could have this long endless hearty chat under the moonlight :)
Monday, March 19, 2012
To My Dear Boys: About Being In Love
Dear Daniel and Darren,
A lot of times, when I see boy teenagers and young adults, I think of you. I wonder if you will grow up and dress, talk and behave like them. Or will things change, like fashion and trend. I would like to see the both of you when you're that age, but some part of me don't want you to grow up too fast!
But most of all, I wish the both of you love. Yes, the gift of love. You will fall in love one day. And I hope you will share that news with me because this is exactly what I would tell you: (it was a reply written by John Steinbeck when he received a letter from his teenage son who confessed that he fell desperately in love with a girl in school)
First -- if you are in love -- that's a good thing -- that's about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don't let anyone make it small or light to you.
Second -- There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you -- of kindness and consideration and respect -- not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn't know you had.
You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply -- of course it isn't puppy love.
But I don't think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it -- and that I can tell you.
Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.
The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.
If you love someone -- there is no possible harm in saying so -- only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.
Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.
It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another -- but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.
Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I'm glad you have it.
We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.
And don't worry about losing. If it is right, it happens -- The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.
Love,
Fa
Taken from here.
A lot of times, when I see boy teenagers and young adults, I think of you. I wonder if you will grow up and dress, talk and behave like them. Or will things change, like fashion and trend. I would like to see the both of you when you're that age, but some part of me don't want you to grow up too fast!
But most of all, I wish the both of you love. Yes, the gift of love. You will fall in love one day. And I hope you will share that news with me because this is exactly what I would tell you: (it was a reply written by John Steinbeck when he received a letter from his teenage son who confessed that he fell desperately in love with a girl in school)
First -- if you are in love -- that's a good thing -- that's about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don't let anyone make it small or light to you.
Second -- There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you -- of kindness and consideration and respect -- not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn't know you had.
You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply -- of course it isn't puppy love.
But I don't think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it -- and that I can tell you.
Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.
The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.
If you love someone -- there is no possible harm in saying so -- only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.
Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.
It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another -- but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.
Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I'm glad you have it.
We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.
And don't worry about losing. If it is right, it happens -- The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.
Love,
Fa
Taken from here.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Managing Eczema
I have had BAD skin since middle of last year. Allergic dermatitis, eczema, INFECTIVE eczema... yowza!! Not fun I tell you. The itch got worse, especially at night. And I became a cortisone cream junkie. I even apply Dermagenta on mosquito bites! And the scars... ooohhhhh them scars... Do you know how many two-dimensional polyacrylamide gels I've ran in my working life? Hundreds.
Parts of my legs looked like that at one point of time. It was repulsive. And I stopped wearing mini skirts and shorts. AM.SAD. I have these God's gift of long lean sexy legs, but I can't show it off like Gisele Bundchen. OHHH WHHHYYYYY MUST THIS HAPPEN TO ME?!!! *in the meantime, thousands feared dead in apocalyptic flood*
I should describe my rash for informative purpose. They are spots, raised, red, some are clustered, some are islands on their own, some are itchy, some oozes clear liquid, mostly appears at the back of my thighs and buttocks, some around my elbows, and randomly on my legs and arms. NOT NICE. For weeks, I had to bear with itchiness, dryness and weeping rash.
Now, the itch has reduced tremendously. It's not all gone, but it's a lot better. My skin is not as dry (no flakes of dry skin visible). The rashes have settled down. How did I manage it?
1. Diprogenta cream. . Anti- infective cream with corticosteroids. Works wonders. Applied twice a day.
2. Changed my shower soap to Cetaphil and A'Kin. Cetaphil is B.O.R.I.N.G. No foam, no scent, just slippery gel. But it sure is safe for the skin. A'Kin is a newer brand of natural body care product from Australia. I'm now using the Lavender scented body wash. Almost all the ingredients are of a botanical source. And it's SO MUCH FUN than Cetaphil.
2. Moisturize moisturize moisturize. I do this twice a day at least. Once with Physiogel,second with natural camellia oil (recommended and only available from Hong Kong)
3. Diet. I have been eating instant oat with honey and ground flaxseed. Flaxseed is rich in essential fatty acids (omega-3) which is good for maintaining beautiful hair, skin and nails. But I'm not maintaining... I'm repairing! Anyway, I love this breakfast and have been eating it every weekdays for more than a month. And still not sick of it!
I also avoided junk food laden with MSG and colorings. I might react to these, don't know which but I'm planning a big-scale ultra high designed experiments to test what I'm allergic to. Eh, isn't there a skin prick test? Will it include the red coloring from an ang ku kueh? And MSG from Mamee?
Now, the mystery of eczema. I don't know what triggered mine. Some say that skin problems are underlying internal issues, especially the liver. If the liver can't eliminate toxins as usual, the toxins gotta go out somehow, and one way is through the skin. Or it could be an immune system issue. Or stress. Or post-traumatic stress which manifest months after the trauma. I'm wondering if my rash is caused by all these factors. Nevertheless, I am very happy recently that it's gotten better. There's still a long way to go and I will have to be vigilant about my skin now.
Parts of my legs looked like that at one point of time. It was repulsive. And I stopped wearing mini skirts and shorts. AM.SAD. I have these God's gift of long lean sexy legs, but I can't show it off like Gisele Bundchen. OHHH WHHHYYYYY MUST THIS HAPPEN TO ME?!!! *in the meantime, thousands feared dead in apocalyptic flood*
I should describe my rash for informative purpose. They are spots, raised, red, some are clustered, some are islands on their own, some are itchy, some oozes clear liquid, mostly appears at the back of my thighs and buttocks, some around my elbows, and randomly on my legs and arms. NOT NICE. For weeks, I had to bear with itchiness, dryness and weeping rash.
Now, the itch has reduced tremendously. It's not all gone, but it's a lot better. My skin is not as dry (no flakes of dry skin visible). The rashes have settled down. How did I manage it?
1. Diprogenta cream. . Anti- infective cream with corticosteroids. Works wonders. Applied twice a day.
2. Changed my shower soap to Cetaphil and A'Kin. Cetaphil is B.O.R.I.N.G. No foam, no scent, just slippery gel. But it sure is safe for the skin. A'Kin is a newer brand of natural body care product from Australia. I'm now using the Lavender scented body wash. Almost all the ingredients are of a botanical source. And it's SO MUCH FUN than Cetaphil.
2. Moisturize moisturize moisturize. I do this twice a day at least. Once with Physiogel,second with natural camellia oil (recommended and only available from Hong Kong)
3. Diet. I have been eating instant oat with honey and ground flaxseed. Flaxseed is rich in essential fatty acids (omega-3) which is good for maintaining beautiful hair, skin and nails. But I'm not maintaining... I'm repairing! Anyway, I love this breakfast and have been eating it every weekdays for more than a month. And still not sick of it!
I also avoided junk food laden with MSG and colorings. I might react to these, don't know which but I'm planning a big-scale ultra high designed experiments to test what I'm allergic to. Eh, isn't there a skin prick test? Will it include the red coloring from an ang ku kueh? And MSG from Mamee?
Now, the mystery of eczema. I don't know what triggered mine. Some say that skin problems are underlying internal issues, especially the liver. If the liver can't eliminate toxins as usual, the toxins gotta go out somehow, and one way is through the skin. Or it could be an immune system issue. Or stress. Or post-traumatic stress which manifest months after the trauma. I'm wondering if my rash is caused by all these factors. Nevertheless, I am very happy recently that it's gotten better. There's still a long way to go and I will have to be vigilant about my skin now.
Thursday, March 01, 2012
Darren Is Two!
Not too long ago...
He can express himself quite a lot. His favorite sentences are "I want!"
"I want to go there!" "I want to go down!" "I want nen-nen... do again!" "I want motorbike!" "I want baby einstein book" "I want go home!" He is as apt to say "I don't want!" And he almost can say 'Excavator'
He can count to ten perfectly, and to twenty with a bit of guidance.
I think he has awesome hearing and speech skills. You say a word for the first time, he says the same word for the first time.
He's so cute when he cries.
He's so cute when he pretends to cry.
He grabs my iPhone, slides to unlock, and view my photo albums. He enjoys watching his own videos. He once sent a gibberish text to my friend.
He loves jumping on the bed. He loves jumping down the stairs. He loves to launch himself onto the sofa. He loves action. Freaks me out.
He loves vehicles . Anything with wheels, that moves.
He is not afraid of anything but the hairdryer.
He is not shy.
He absolutely loves water. Whether it's drinking, the pool, a rain puddle... he's a goner.
He adores his brother, and it's mutual. They do wrestle for toys, TV and attention but at the end of the day, they cuddle up, and this melts my heart.
He is a charm. Everyday.
He can express himself quite a lot. His favorite sentences are "I want!"
"I want to go there!" "I want to go down!" "I want nen-nen... do again!" "I want motorbike!" "I want baby einstein book" "I want go home!" He is as apt to say "I don't want!" And he almost can say 'Excavator'
He can count to ten perfectly, and to twenty with a bit of guidance.
I think he has awesome hearing and speech skills. You say a word for the first time, he says the same word for the first time.
He's so cute when he cries.
He's so cute when he pretends to cry.
He grabs my iPhone, slides to unlock, and view my photo albums. He enjoys watching his own videos. He once sent a gibberish text to my friend.
He loves jumping on the bed. He loves jumping down the stairs. He loves to launch himself onto the sofa. He loves action. Freaks me out.
He loves vehicles . Anything with wheels, that moves.
He is not afraid of anything but the hairdryer.
He is not shy.
He absolutely loves water. Whether it's drinking, the pool, a rain puddle... he's a goner.
He adores his brother, and it's mutual. They do wrestle for toys, TV and attention but at the end of the day, they cuddle up, and this melts my heart.
He is a charm. Everyday.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
The Generation of iKids
Do you sometimes hand over your smartphone to your obnoxious noisy child to keep him from disturbing you? I plead guilty!
I try not to be one of those parents who do it in restaurants and in public, but there are times when I give in. Mental war is not fun. The devil says "Go on, just give it to the poor kiddo, a game or two won't blind him".... and the angel says "Resist, my mortal one, iPhone games are baaaaad for childre.......... Ah, what the heck, just give it to him. CHILL MAMA!"
It's really not fun having this fight in my head.
I do let Daniel play with the iPad and my iPhone occasionally. The 'habit' became consistent during the first two weeks of starting Primary One. I would let him play when he got home. I think it was a subconscious 'reward' for him, and I became soft-hearted. I pity the kid who gets home later than I do. So basically I let him do whatever he wants at home.
And then my overreacting-maternal-instincts kicked in and I have barred him from going near the iPad, iPhone and computer games. Since the CNY! Zilch, nix, zip, nada, diddly-squat. He'd ask everyday, and I'd say NO everyday. I practiced total control and discipline for him and myself. Everytime I feel tempted to give in, I think of those reported cases of extreme games addiction.
AND THEN I came across this somewhat sensible article. One point from the article which made me realize something I never thought of before;
"...children view technology inherently differently than their adult counterparts. They see it as something fundamentally human, easily assimilated into everyday life – as opposed to adults, who view it as separate from humanness. Kids are viewing technology as “moving from acts of knowledge transmission toward acts of exploration, collaboration, and creation.”
Kapow right! I never viewed it as a child, that the expectation is that technology is everywhere and anytime. It is a natural part of life.I am still living in the times when kids should be playing physical traditional games like batu seremban (five stones), congkak, police and thieves, badminton, dig holes in the soil, catch spiders and climb coconut trees. Gosh I'm Jurassic!
SO, after a long digital break, I guess I will let him indulge a little bit. BUT not too much....
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
The Mid-Thirties Woman
I will officially hit mid-thirty end of this week. How do I feel about it? Awesomeness of epic proportions. I feel like my life has just begun and it's exponentially reaching it's peak. Do the men normally panic at this time? I don't know, but as a woman, yabadabadoo!! Not only you're glowing with the mid-thirties confidence, you'll find yourself evermore assertive in your choices in life, and many more glorious advantages this age has to offer. For me, they all pretty much sum up to:
"I am beautiful, and I finally see it"
I was never confident about my looks, only after a good haircut. My good haircut was 4 years ago. Now, I feel beautiful even in my sweatpants. I feel beautiful knowing I have a healthy body (so far), a FUNCTIONAL body, and a body that allows me to dance, to do so many wonderful things, and to touch people's hearts with kind gestures. And most of all, I have body that can make ANOTHER body! And then another!
"No nitrites and trans-fat please , thank you"
I am increasingly concerned about the food we eat. Processed and refined junks. And your body has a way of telling you. I guess, I am also listening more to my body. I'm trying to get the nutrients I think I lack, from natural sources of food instead of popping the pills. Boy I love the internet.
"I want to speak to your manager, you lousy sheet of asswipes"
I can no longer tolerate bad service or injustice. Being a woman in her mid-thirties brings me closer to the Auntie Attitude. HAIL AUNTIES! I am capable of making a scene (in another words, a case) without being embarrassed, because it's my prerogative. I am using my voice to express my displeasure and to lecture if necessary. I'm still practicing though, these things take a lot of guts! I must say, having small children tends to accentuate this, because we face cranky unreasonable infantile behaviors at home, therefore we cannot tolerate similar traits coming from another adult. Betul?
" Let's have a reunion"
Never underestimate the power of family in times of joy and crisis. Your own parents, your sibling, your cousins, your aunts, uncles, grandparents, even in-laws. They may nag, they may be distant, but when it comes to serious stuff, these people are on your side. It's amazing, I never knew this. Being an only child, I lived like an island, isolated from others. I strive on privacy and my own world. Now, I learn that we can all live as islands CONNECTED TO EACH OTHER BY BRIDGES!
" Dear God..."
The spiritual path is sometimes the trickiest. People change, beliefs change. I am a Christian by faith, but I am open and curious about other faiths too. Not only in religion but in life as a general. And along the way, I make up my own set of beliefs. It may not be tried and tested, but it feels right. It is true... I AM the Goddess of the Mid-Thirties.
"Just Do It"
I am doing what I enjoy and love most. In my twenties, I was cluelessly tagging along. Everyday was just another day. Nothing to look forward really, nothing that drives me to the point of passionate insanity. Then around the age of 30, something stirred in me. I wasn't going to spend another 10 years tagging along still. I had an artistic interest and I acted on it. I set up my station, I bought supplies, I invested in pricier tools, I MADE THINGS. And then it wasn't enough. You know when you have found your passion, you just can't stop! I opened an account, and set up my online shop. I took good pictures of my cards with effort. And I sold them! It was my drug. No matter what happened, my crafting mojo would ALWAYS come back, and I know this is true love. So mid-thirties is also about making things happen. Waiting is not fun anymore.
Coincidently, my 'savvy thirties' life is blessed with amazing tools like the internet, filled with endless informations and opportunities. If not for Facebook, I wouldn't have been equipped with so many news, trends and viral videos of rude KFC staff punching customer. I would've made an Auntie scene big-time. Happy Birthday to me yo!
"I am beautiful, and I finally see it"
I was never confident about my looks, only after a good haircut. My good haircut was 4 years ago. Now, I feel beautiful even in my sweatpants. I feel beautiful knowing I have a healthy body (so far), a FUNCTIONAL body, and a body that allows me to dance, to do so many wonderful things, and to touch people's hearts with kind gestures. And most of all, I have body that can make ANOTHER body! And then another!
"No nitrites and trans-fat please , thank you"
I am increasingly concerned about the food we eat. Processed and refined junks. And your body has a way of telling you. I guess, I am also listening more to my body. I'm trying to get the nutrients I think I lack, from natural sources of food instead of popping the pills. Boy I love the internet.
"I want to speak to your manager, you lousy sheet of asswipes"
I can no longer tolerate bad service or injustice. Being a woman in her mid-thirties brings me closer to the Auntie Attitude. HAIL AUNTIES! I am capable of making a scene (in another words, a case) without being embarrassed, because it's my prerogative. I am using my voice to express my displeasure and to lecture if necessary. I'm still practicing though, these things take a lot of guts! I must say, having small children tends to accentuate this, because we face cranky unreasonable infantile behaviors at home, therefore we cannot tolerate similar traits coming from another adult. Betul?
" Let's have a reunion"
Never underestimate the power of family in times of joy and crisis. Your own parents, your sibling, your cousins, your aunts, uncles, grandparents, even in-laws. They may nag, they may be distant, but when it comes to serious stuff, these people are on your side. It's amazing, I never knew this. Being an only child, I lived like an island, isolated from others. I strive on privacy and my own world. Now, I learn that we can all live as islands CONNECTED TO EACH OTHER BY BRIDGES!
" Dear God..."
The spiritual path is sometimes the trickiest. People change, beliefs change. I am a Christian by faith, but I am open and curious about other faiths too. Not only in religion but in life as a general. And along the way, I make up my own set of beliefs. It may not be tried and tested, but it feels right. It is true... I AM the Goddess of the Mid-Thirties.
"Just Do It"
I am doing what I enjoy and love most. In my twenties, I was cluelessly tagging along. Everyday was just another day. Nothing to look forward really, nothing that drives me to the point of passionate insanity. Then around the age of 30, something stirred in me. I wasn't going to spend another 10 years tagging along still. I had an artistic interest and I acted on it. I set up my station, I bought supplies, I invested in pricier tools, I MADE THINGS. And then it wasn't enough. You know when you have found your passion, you just can't stop! I opened an account, and set up my online shop. I took good pictures of my cards with effort. And I sold them! It was my drug. No matter what happened, my crafting mojo would ALWAYS come back, and I know this is true love. So mid-thirties is also about making things happen. Waiting is not fun anymore.
Coincidently, my 'savvy thirties' life is blessed with amazing tools like the internet, filled with endless informations and opportunities. If not for Facebook, I wouldn't have been equipped with so many news, trends and viral videos of rude KFC staff punching customer. I would've made an Auntie scene big-time. Happy Birthday to me yo!
Friday, February 03, 2012
The Month of Love
February is the month of retail love. There goes our angpows! Some people say all kinds of negative things about Valen-marketing-gimmick-tine's Day, and sometimes I'd agree. There were some years when we spent it like any other day because we hate crowded fully-booked restaurants and overpriced flowers and menu. We didn't' even do anything special at home. We even ate RICE! You are supposed to eat ang moh food on special occasions right?
But today, now, I'd say, HELL YES, CELEBRATE IT! If you are with someone special in your life, even if it has been 10 years, even when you've had a herd of kids, even if you had a long day at work, even if you don't feel like doing anything with anyone, celebrate it! It doesn't need to be extravagant. At any moment during Valentine's Day, just grab your beloved, any moment, in the morning before you leave for work, or at the end of the day before bedtime, look him/her in the eye, hold him/her firmly and lovingly, and say "Pork chop, you made me a very happy man/woman. I don't know how, but you did and you still do. Happy Valentine's Day my chocolate topped baby kailan".... or insert your own favorite affection names.
Here's why we should give V-Day a little credit.
Love is a miracle. You have to meet someone that you are attracted to, mutually. You have to go on that first date. You have to learn about each other, and remain attracted to each other. This process could take 10 years. Then you have to take that leap and get married. Now that is a miracle, don't you think? Like a sperm swimming the distance to meet AND fertilize the egg! So, at least acknowledge the special day and commit a moment to thank your honey for everything that you two have gone through together, no matter how trivial, coz BEING together is worth the celebration.
Here's some of my favorite Valentine's Day card.
Rifle Paper Co.
mylittlebuffalo
QuillandFox
And here are some that I made!
But today, now, I'd say, HELL YES, CELEBRATE IT! If you are with someone special in your life, even if it has been 10 years, even when you've had a herd of kids, even if you had a long day at work, even if you don't feel like doing anything with anyone, celebrate it! It doesn't need to be extravagant. At any moment during Valentine's Day, just grab your beloved, any moment, in the morning before you leave for work, or at the end of the day before bedtime, look him/her in the eye, hold him/her firmly and lovingly, and say "Pork chop, you made me a very happy man/woman. I don't know how, but you did and you still do. Happy Valentine's Day my chocolate topped baby kailan".... or insert your own favorite affection names.
Here's why we should give V-Day a little credit.
Love is a miracle. You have to meet someone that you are attracted to, mutually. You have to go on that first date. You have to learn about each other, and remain attracted to each other. This process could take 10 years. Then you have to take that leap and get married. Now that is a miracle, don't you think? Like a sperm swimming the distance to meet AND fertilize the egg! So, at least acknowledge the special day and commit a moment to thank your honey for everything that you two have gone through together, no matter how trivial, coz BEING together is worth the celebration.
Here's some of my favorite Valentine's Day card.
Rifle Paper Co.
mylittlebuffalo
QuillandFox
And here are some that I made!
Wednesday, February 01, 2012
Top Ten Worst Aspects of Working in a Lab
The Top 10 Worst Things About Working in a Lab, by Adam Ruben
10. Your non-scientist friends don’t understand what you do.
Even when talking about their jobs to outsiders, your friends in other professions can summarize their recent accomplishments in understandable ways. For example, they can say, “I built an object,” or “I pleased a client,” or, if your friend works on Wall Street, “I ate a peasant.” But what can you say? “I cured … um, well, I didn’t really cure it, but I discovered … well, ‘discovered’ is too strong a word, so let’s just say I tested … well, the tests are ongoing and are causing new questions to arise, so … yeah. Stop looking at me.” At least you’re doing better than your friends with Ph.D.s in the humanities, who would answer, “I put sheets on my mom’s basement couch.”
9. The scientist who is already the most successful gets credit for everything anyone does.
If you discover something, your principal investigator (PI) gets credit. If you write a paper, your PI gets credit. If you submit a successful grant proposal, your PI gets credit (and money). And what do you get? If you’re lucky, you get to write more papers and grant proposals to bolster your PI’s curriculum vitae.
8. Lab equipment is expensive and delicate. And you, you’re not so coordinated. Nope. Not so much.
Oops! You could pay to replace this one broken piece, or you could hire another postdoc.
7. Sometimes experiments fail for a reason. Sometimes experiments fail for no reason.
As anyone who works in a lab knows, things that work perfectly for months or years can suddenly stop working, offering no explanation for the change. (In this way, lab experiments are like Internet Explorer®.) This abrupt and inexplicable failure changes your work to meta-work, as you stop asking questions about science and start asking questions about the consistency of your technique. You can waste years saying things like, “When I created the sample that worked, I flared my nostril in a weird way. So this week, I’ll try to repeat what I did last week but with more nostrils flarin’!”
6. Your schedule is dictated by intangible things.
Freaking cell lines, needing to be tended on a regular basis regardless of your dinner plans. Freaking galaxies visible only in the middle of the night. If it weren’t for your lab work you’d have such a vivacious social life! Sure. That’s why you have no social life. It’s the lab work.
5. Science on television has conditioned you to expect daily or weekly breakthroughs.
Have you ever had a breakthrough in the lab? Yeah, me neither. Sure, I’ve had successful experiments, which usually means that the controls worked and no one was injured. But a real, eureka, run-down-the-hallway-carrying-a-printout, burst-into-a-room-full-of-military-personnel-and-call-the-President-even-though-it’s-three-in-the-morning breakthrough? Not yet. Unless you count the programmable coffee maker that, after much cajoling, made decent coffee at the appropriate time. Maybe I should publish that.
4. Your work is dangerous.
People say their jobs are killing them, but you work with things that could actually kill you -- things like caustic chemicals, infectious agents, highly electrified instruments, and angry PIs.
3. Labs are not conducive to sex.
Unless you work in a sex lab, which may or may not be a real thing, it’s unlikely you can convince anyone to crawl under your lab bench with you (“Just ignore the discarded pipette tips, baby”) and, as protein biophysicists say, put their zinc fingers in your leucine zipper. But hey, prove me wrong, people.
2. You have to dress like a scientist.
When I worked at an amusement park, I had to wear a purple polo shirt tucked into khaki shorts with giant white sneakers, so I suppose things could be worse. But some of our (scientists’) uniform choices are pretty unflattering. Disposable shoe covers look like you stepped in two shower caps. Safety goggles trap humidity as though you’re cultivating a rainforest on your face. And white lab coats with collars and lapels make men look like nerds and women look like men who look like nerds.
1. You can feel time creeping inexorably toward your own death.
If you think I’m being melodramatic, you were obviously never a grad student or postdoc. As a grad student or postdoc, you spend longer than you’ve planned working on something less interesting than you’d believed, all while earning less money than you assumed reasonable with an endpoint that’s less tangible and less probable than you thought possible.
LOVE No. 7!
10. Your non-scientist friends don’t understand what you do.
Even when talking about their jobs to outsiders, your friends in other professions can summarize their recent accomplishments in understandable ways. For example, they can say, “I built an object,” or “I pleased a client,” or, if your friend works on Wall Street, “I ate a peasant.” But what can you say? “I cured … um, well, I didn’t really cure it, but I discovered … well, ‘discovered’ is too strong a word, so let’s just say I tested … well, the tests are ongoing and are causing new questions to arise, so … yeah. Stop looking at me.” At least you’re doing better than your friends with Ph.D.s in the humanities, who would answer, “I put sheets on my mom’s basement couch.”
9. The scientist who is already the most successful gets credit for everything anyone does.
If you discover something, your principal investigator (PI) gets credit. If you write a paper, your PI gets credit. If you submit a successful grant proposal, your PI gets credit (and money). And what do you get? If you’re lucky, you get to write more papers and grant proposals to bolster your PI’s curriculum vitae.
8. Lab equipment is expensive and delicate. And you, you’re not so coordinated. Nope. Not so much.
Oops! You could pay to replace this one broken piece, or you could hire another postdoc.
7. Sometimes experiments fail for a reason. Sometimes experiments fail for no reason.
As anyone who works in a lab knows, things that work perfectly for months or years can suddenly stop working, offering no explanation for the change. (In this way, lab experiments are like Internet Explorer®.) This abrupt and inexplicable failure changes your work to meta-work, as you stop asking questions about science and start asking questions about the consistency of your technique. You can waste years saying things like, “When I created the sample that worked, I flared my nostril in a weird way. So this week, I’ll try to repeat what I did last week but with more nostrils flarin’!”
6. Your schedule is dictated by intangible things.
Freaking cell lines, needing to be tended on a regular basis regardless of your dinner plans. Freaking galaxies visible only in the middle of the night. If it weren’t for your lab work you’d have such a vivacious social life! Sure. That’s why you have no social life. It’s the lab work.
5. Science on television has conditioned you to expect daily or weekly breakthroughs.
Have you ever had a breakthrough in the lab? Yeah, me neither. Sure, I’ve had successful experiments, which usually means that the controls worked and no one was injured. But a real, eureka, run-down-the-hallway-carrying-a-printout, burst-into-a-room-full-of-military-personnel-and-call-the-President-even-though-it’s-three-in-the-morning breakthrough? Not yet. Unless you count the programmable coffee maker that, after much cajoling, made decent coffee at the appropriate time. Maybe I should publish that.
4. Your work is dangerous.
People say their jobs are killing them, but you work with things that could actually kill you -- things like caustic chemicals, infectious agents, highly electrified instruments, and angry PIs.
3. Labs are not conducive to sex.
Unless you work in a sex lab, which may or may not be a real thing, it’s unlikely you can convince anyone to crawl under your lab bench with you (“Just ignore the discarded pipette tips, baby”) and, as protein biophysicists say, put their zinc fingers in your leucine zipper. But hey, prove me wrong, people.
2. You have to dress like a scientist.
When I worked at an amusement park, I had to wear a purple polo shirt tucked into khaki shorts with giant white sneakers, so I suppose things could be worse. But some of our (scientists’) uniform choices are pretty unflattering. Disposable shoe covers look like you stepped in two shower caps. Safety goggles trap humidity as though you’re cultivating a rainforest on your face. And white lab coats with collars and lapels make men look like nerds and women look like men who look like nerds.
1. You can feel time creeping inexorably toward your own death.
If you think I’m being melodramatic, you were obviously never a grad student or postdoc. As a grad student or postdoc, you spend longer than you’ve planned working on something less interesting than you’d believed, all while earning less money than you assumed reasonable with an endpoint that’s less tangible and less probable than you thought possible.
LOVE No. 7!
Monday, January 09, 2012
High Productivity
I had microbial eczema on my left leg. From a cut, to a stubborn rash that wouldn't heal, for 6 months. And then the eczema spread. And then the itch became rather annoying and frustrating. I had spots all over my thighs, lower leg, on my buttocks and some on my arms and hands. Bumps that were itchy, and weepy. Thank goodness, it wasn't scabies (eww!)
It took me 6 months to see a skin specialist, that's how stubborn I am. So, I was put on oral steroid and antibiotics for a week. This was my first time taking oral steroid. And BOY IT MADE ME SLEEP REALLY REALLY LATE AND I HAD ALL THE ENERGY AND VIGOR ALL WEEK LONG YABADDABADOOO!!!!!
I was literally an energizer bunny. I was organizing my things really well, I was DOING rather than mulling! And I felt accomplished! This coincided with Daniel's first week in Primary One, so I was running all over places to get this and that done.
And these were completed, finally!
My IKEA shadow frame has been sitting in a box for ages. I tell you, when inspiration comes in a form of oral steroid, you practically get anything you want done. That little cute bunny is a handphone accessory that has been staring at me for ages too.
SOCK monkey! For 3 months, it was just the body, hands, tail, ears and nose, all in separate pieces. It now has a soul.
These two fellas were made some time ago. Never thought gardening gloves would be so useful... hee hee!
These socky cuddlies were made possible by this book:
Now that it's end of my oral steroid week, my skin is better, and I'm starting to feel sleepy...
Reallieee sleeeepy...
It took me 6 months to see a skin specialist, that's how stubborn I am. So, I was put on oral steroid and antibiotics for a week. This was my first time taking oral steroid. And BOY IT MADE ME SLEEP REALLY REALLY LATE AND I HAD ALL THE ENERGY AND VIGOR ALL WEEK LONG YABADDABADOOO!!!!!
I was literally an energizer bunny. I was organizing my things really well, I was DOING rather than mulling! And I felt accomplished! This coincided with Daniel's first week in Primary One, so I was running all over places to get this and that done.
And these were completed, finally!
My IKEA shadow frame has been sitting in a box for ages. I tell you, when inspiration comes in a form of oral steroid, you practically get anything you want done. That little cute bunny is a handphone accessory that has been staring at me for ages too.
SOCK monkey! For 3 months, it was just the body, hands, tail, ears and nose, all in separate pieces. It now has a soul.
These two fellas were made some time ago. Never thought gardening gloves would be so useful... hee hee!
These socky cuddlies were made possible by this book:
Now that it's end of my oral steroid week, my skin is better, and I'm starting to feel sleepy...
Reallieee sleeeepy...
Friday, January 06, 2012
First Day Primary One
4th January 2012 marks a major milestone for us. Our Daniel has started formal schooling! DARJAH SATU!
Here's what I prepared for him, and it essentially made me feel truly as a parent.
1. Uniforms. I got four sets. And 2 pairs of shoes, 4 pairs of socks. Additional sets better than an emergency! I should get those holey singlets as innerwear, they are good sweat absorber, and can be changed everyday, instead of daily changing of the shirt.
2. THE SCHOOLBAG! This is probably THE main component of the whole first-day-in-school hoolabaloo. It's like the car you're driving to the first day of work. On the first day, he wore my freebie backpack I got from servicing my car. Cheapskate mom. Those are meant for tall ang moh adults. When I saw him walking to his school from his bus drop-off point, I felt bad. His bag was banging the back of his legs and it made him walk funny. So, right after that I got him a wheelie Ben 10 backpack. He was elated!
3. Name tags for his belongings. Pencil cases, schoolbag, water bottle, food container, color pencil box, books, files. For his bag, pencil cases and snack bag, I added on of those tags with key rings. Like a luggage tag. I like doing mundane things like this.
4. The recess time snack bag. I've written some sort of a timetable for snacks to bring on different days of the week. Sandwiches, fried rice, banana, chips, biscuits, bread, muffin and whatever healthy snacks I can think of (which he may not eat, and end up buying junk food from the canteen).
5. Remember wrapping our textbooks and exercise books with clear plastic sheets? I did it and it felt so nostalgic!
6. The schedule. He takes the school bus and I had to 'train' him to do tasks on time. I even drew a pictorial timetable.
He has to shower at 11am, eat his lunch at 11.15am, and get ready for the bus by 11.35am. It has to be army style if you take the school bus! GO GO GO!
And then he arrives in school at about 12.30pm for assembly and classes officially starts at 1pm.
At 3pm, they break for recess, for 20 minutes. I appreciate my one hour lunchtime now. These kids really have to gobble down their food.
One parent brought McDonalds.... spoil market!
This school canteen offers plates of fried rice, fried noodles, chicken nuggets, fish nuggets, breads, curry puffs and food I didn't bother to remember and probably don't want him to eat too much.
The students assemble back before going back to class. The best-behaved class gets to go first. Daniel's class was the noisiest. Aiyaiyaiyai.
I get the whole evening off! YAY!
Classes end at 6.20pm. By the time, he gets into the school bus, it's 6.35pm, and he arrives at our home gate at 7.20pm. The ACTUAL journey from school to our home is 5 minutes. The husband will pick him up in future when he finishes work early :)
So everything went jolly well right? Almost. After dinner, all of sudden, he broke down and cried. It's one of those going-through-a-major-change kind of cry. I held him and felt like crying myself. These were his reasons.
1. The school hours are too long. Kindergarten used to be 4 hours, and he's home by 1pm and he had the entire day to play. Now, he said he has no time to watch his cartoon on TV in the afternoons, no time to play games no time to play with his toys.
2. He misses his baby brother... awwwww.
3. He misses me... awwww.
4. Sand got into his eyes in the bus because he was sitting next to an open window. Yes, non-aircon bus still exists in Malaysia!
After some pep talk, we are a-okay. I think he just needed to let it out, which is healthy.
This concludes his first day in school!
Here's what I prepared for him, and it essentially made me feel truly as a parent.
1. Uniforms. I got four sets. And 2 pairs of shoes, 4 pairs of socks. Additional sets better than an emergency! I should get those holey singlets as innerwear, they are good sweat absorber, and can be changed everyday, instead of daily changing of the shirt.
2. THE SCHOOLBAG! This is probably THE main component of the whole first-day-in-school hoolabaloo. It's like the car you're driving to the first day of work. On the first day, he wore my freebie backpack I got from servicing my car. Cheapskate mom. Those are meant for tall ang moh adults. When I saw him walking to his school from his bus drop-off point, I felt bad. His bag was banging the back of his legs and it made him walk funny. So, right after that I got him a wheelie Ben 10 backpack. He was elated!
3. Name tags for his belongings. Pencil cases, schoolbag, water bottle, food container, color pencil box, books, files. For his bag, pencil cases and snack bag, I added on of those tags with key rings. Like a luggage tag. I like doing mundane things like this.
4. The recess time snack bag. I've written some sort of a timetable for snacks to bring on different days of the week. Sandwiches, fried rice, banana, chips, biscuits, bread, muffin and whatever healthy snacks I can think of (which he may not eat, and end up buying junk food from the canteen).
5. Remember wrapping our textbooks and exercise books with clear plastic sheets? I did it and it felt so nostalgic!
6. The schedule. He takes the school bus and I had to 'train' him to do tasks on time. I even drew a pictorial timetable.
He has to shower at 11am, eat his lunch at 11.15am, and get ready for the bus by 11.35am. It has to be army style if you take the school bus! GO GO GO!
And then he arrives in school at about 12.30pm for assembly and classes officially starts at 1pm.
At 3pm, they break for recess, for 20 minutes. I appreciate my one hour lunchtime now. These kids really have to gobble down their food.
One parent brought McDonalds.... spoil market!
This school canteen offers plates of fried rice, fried noodles, chicken nuggets, fish nuggets, breads, curry puffs and food I didn't bother to remember and probably don't want him to eat too much.
The students assemble back before going back to class. The best-behaved class gets to go first. Daniel's class was the noisiest. Aiyaiyaiyai.
I get the whole evening off! YAY!
Classes end at 6.20pm. By the time, he gets into the school bus, it's 6.35pm, and he arrives at our home gate at 7.20pm. The ACTUAL journey from school to our home is 5 minutes. The husband will pick him up in future when he finishes work early :)
So everything went jolly well right? Almost. After dinner, all of sudden, he broke down and cried. It's one of those going-through-a-major-change kind of cry. I held him and felt like crying myself. These were his reasons.
1. The school hours are too long. Kindergarten used to be 4 hours, and he's home by 1pm and he had the entire day to play. Now, he said he has no time to watch his cartoon on TV in the afternoons, no time to play games no time to play with his toys.
2. He misses his baby brother... awwwww.
3. He misses me... awwww.
4. Sand got into his eyes in the bus because he was sitting next to an open window. Yes, non-aircon bus still exists in Malaysia!
After some pep talk, we are a-okay. I think he just needed to let it out, which is healthy.
This concludes his first day in school!
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