Archive | June, 2013

Ooh! Can I Have It As A Pet?

16 Jun

We have a lovely home and enough space for a pet, or two or three or four…. Official pet number one is our adorable English bulldog, Rooney Wayne or just plain Roo.

Official pet number two of the home is the regal arowana fish called Meow-Meow. Meow-Meow?! That’s another story all by itself. Then there is the pondful of fishes of various species. Not forgetting the two turtles and two tortoises, all official status of course.

All pets, official or otherwise, have names. All of them, yes; even the fishes in the pond, every single one of them. But to make things easy for identification, M2 christened the whole school, Bob. Clever, ain’t she?

Now, the pets are labelled official simply because daddy takes care of them. M1, M2 and myself just give moral support and enjoy them.

The urge to mother and care for a pet sometimes would strike M2. Whenever the hubby buys some live frogs or shrimps for Meow-Meow as food, M2 would ask, “Ooh! Can I have one as a pet?” Yes, even a shrimp can be a pet.

But as she is a school-going, homework-laden child, caring for these pets can be tedious and their well-being neglected. So, often there will be expected deaths and burials subsequently.

There was a time we thought maybe something more substantial, to instill responsibility and a sense of ownership in M2. So for one of her earlier birthdays, we got her hermit crabs, and revived the old crabarium that used to house M1’s crabs before.

It worked out well for awhile but them hermies are a notorious bunch, partying every night and wrecking their abode like a tornado came through or something. We started with four but within a month or two, the population halved. By 6 months, the last survivor eventually died of loneliness and old age.

The crabarium has been back in the storeroom ever since.

M2 is not disheartened even when her last pet fighting fish went to pet heaven due to over feeding. Once, she tried to champion for a hamster but we fear the play thing may elevate to official status. In other words, daddy will end up taking care of it. So no can do.

In the end, she found a clever solution to having a pet of her own and with no deaths to endure. Pancake is now the happiest (conifer tree) pet—in a pot—sitting at the front of the house. With daily greetings, petting and attention whenever she goes in and out, it’s a great solution to M2 having a pet that doesn’t need feeding, just love.Image

 

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Mom Needs a Superhero Name!

14 Jun

When M1 was young, we outsourced her to a baby sitter while we worked. And every evening, she would wait by the front door, around the time when we would arrive to fetch her home. At such a tender age (hardly two), she seems to know when to station herself there. Upon hearing the car pull up at the gate, she would then run off to the kitchen yelling, “My Angie Lee is here!!!!!” to report our arrival.

Years later, M1 would not be calling me by my name but variations. When “Oh Mother dearest…” is uttered, I know she wants to buy something and would be at her best in manners to make her case. However, when “Eh! You know…” leaves her mouth and is quite often, I would shoot back with “Eh?? A?! B?! Excuuuuuse me!!!” and the proper address will fall into place. It’s a jovial banter that I don’t recall doing with my mother in my younger days.

Unlike her elder sibling, M2 has summoned me “Sup Philaf!” (albeit a short stint only) during the Captain Underpants years. But she has also decided to give me a superhero name. She claims all moms are like superheroes and as the name “Angie” is so “nyeh”, I need a more heroic sounding name. So my superhero alter-ego is called……

 

Linda. Smack you if you laughed.

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Mom Goes on A Date

14 Jun

When M1 was a little toddler (if memory serves me well, she was three) and M2 has yet to be created, I thought I could take a break from being a mom and have some social life. So hubby approves to me having dinner with my girlfriends. I would tell M1 that mummy is just going out for dinner with Aunty Yew Ling and Aunty Geraldine. It will not be long as Jake’s is quite close to home and as soon as we are done eating, I will be home. I said Goodbye several times and reminded the hubby of the do’s and don’ts before I could finally walk through the door.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, the first of the many calls came. “Mummy! Are you there yet?” “Who is with you?” A short little explanation and I hung up. My friends were very patient and understanding; after all, we grew up together and understand each other very well.

In the midst of our girly chatter, another call came through. “Hi Mummy! What are you doing?” “Are you eating now?” “What did you order?” “Is it nice?” “What is Aunty Yew Ling eating?” “What about Aunty Geraldine?” More explanations took place before I hung up again.

But before I could heave a sigh of relief, another call. “Mummy. What time are you coming home?” “Why are you still with Aunty Yew Ling and Aunty Geraldine?” Sigh.

By the time M2 came around, you can be sure girly dinners never happened until much much later in our lives. Amazingly when daddy goes out while the girls are playing, they would not have an inkling of his disappearance. No dramatic acts of clinging onto your legs to prevent an escape. It will be two hours later before they realized, “Where’s Daddy?”

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Suckered Again and Again

13 Jun

Every now and then, right after the school exams, I will call home to check on them receiving their results. Dutifully, M1 would report her results, with the usual opening of “Good news or bad news first?” followed with enthusiasm, no nonsense reporting and all’s fine; I don’t have to have a panic attack. However, the same cannot be said for M2, the drama queen.

She would put on a sombre tone and rattle off a number, say 58 for a subject, catching me off guard and I would be like “Aiyoh! So bad ah?” Then she’d go, “No laa, mummy, it’s actually 85! heheheh” I would be caught in this little play, many times, believe me, many times. The drama queen’s good.

The Captain Underpants Years

13 Jun

Letters From the Authorities

During this time when M2 was reading Captain Underpants, I came home one day and found these, two days in a week. Needless to say, M2 and I had a talk about it and since then, no more letters came my way…
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Following that, during one of my routine calls home to check on them, I was greeted with a deep voice attempt: “Mabel’s Residence”. Muffling a chortle, I played along and asked for M2 then queried the voice if she was M2. But no…. the voice said she was Janice, M2’s assistant and I was put on hold before M2 came to the phone! We then had a normal conversation.

It’s so hilarious. I don’t think I even dared to try this on my parents back then, let alone think about something like this! My creative child makes me so proud! In this era, I guess one must be open-minded and understanding to be cool parents, or we end up mirroring our own strict parents.

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Is English a Funny Language?

13 Jun

I’ve always loved telling my kids that prior to attending college, their grandma (my mother) had advised me to study English to become an English teacher (don’t laugh!), this being a noble profession. But I would scoff at that idea and gently break my mother’s heart and convinced her that I would fare better as a graphic designer instead.

While in college, I did enjoy my English classes, having signed up for both English101 & English102 AND scoring ‘A’s in both courses. I am most proud of the ‘A’ in English102 because firstly, it is not a typical class taken by Asian students and secondly, the lecturer was a mean looking, typical American lady and I was the only Asian student daring enough to be in her class full of American students. Until today, I still remember her name, Carol Ewing (and thoughts of Dallas and its theme song would break out in my mind!) Thankfully, the class was more of creative writing and I guess I stood above the rest.

Despite this, I feel my knowledge of the language is inadequate as I still cannot tell the difference between a verb, a noun and a pronoun, you know, all those linguistic jargon which are very important, along with correct punctuations and pronunciations. But having said that, it irks me to no end to see spelling mistakes and grammar error.

Last night M1 was sharing stories about her teacher and the way she pronounces her signature phrase: “Thats mean…” instead of “That means…” It has becoming so glaringly wrong and disturbing that her friends decided to pick on it. They purposely created a scenario to question the teacher to prompt her reply. And the whole time using the erred sentence repeatedly to the teacher, unaware of the situation! Naughty kids!

I think “That’s mean!” in this proper context of use.

And not to be outdone, M2 also shared about her teacher, who made a comment “I knows” in class. Immediately, her good friend made eye contact with her and pointed to her eyes and nose! These 12 year olds are so cheeky but then again, are they at fault?

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My Attempt to Blog

13 Jun

My Attempt to Blog About Food

The closest I am to blog about food is

rhyming my kids’ names with it:

Megan the bacon and Mabel the bagel.

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Why I Started This…

12 Jun

Lately, I have neglected my candy crushing ways and have been reading a lot of online news and blogs, friends’ and strangers’ alike. I realized most blogs belonging to my friends are either of food and their artistic skills at photography or showcases of their culinary skills and more photography. I salute them on their diligence at this; I could never do it, cook or have the patience to create art (or photography) out of something I would pop in my mouth and chew. But this got me thinking. So much has happened in my life, surely I could jump onto the bandwagon and attempt to record moments in my life to share with others. If I can’t write about food, there must be something; after all, I am a well travelled person, decent golfer, maniac candy crusher and regular connoisseur of alcoholic beverages (mood ranging from beer, cocktails to whiskey and wine). Then it hit me. My kids. It has been an amazing journey for the last 16 years with my two girls. The events that unfolded last week prompted me to seriously start some form of documentation, and gone were the days where I would take out my precious diary to jot my day. In days to come thereafter, it will be so nice to look back, read about it and reflect on that moment, laugh or get teary-eyed about it. I am one of those who likes to write although I always profess “my England not very terrer”. While I do enjoy reading, the days of technology—what with my iPad mini—has taken over my life and free time from holding a good ol’ paperback in my hands. So here I am, attempting to write (in no particular sequence) about my two girls, Megan and Mabel, code name: M1 and M2, 16 and 12 years old respectively and my life among other things. Here goes…

My Candy Crushing Days Are Over?

This game, Candy Crush, has gotten to me and for the last several months, I have been at it, racing through the saga at demon speed! The pinnacle was reached at Level 335 while we were in Penang for the school holidays! I felt a sense of achievement as I was the leader of the pack, ahead of everyone else at this game. But the sense of achievement was shortlived as that night, the app had an update, right after I completed the saga! Noooo….. another 15 levels to get to the end, so diligently I continued in my pursuit. But alas, after we came back from the break and diving back to life, I suddenly find my candy mojo gone! Vanished, powerless even with so many lives in the message box. I have been stuck at Level 347 and for the first time, feel like giving up the game and especially more so with yet another update to Level 365. Sigh… so unlike me.

Conversation Courtesy

Last Friday, as I was sitting on the sofa, crushing candies of course, M2, sat next to me doing her stuff. Casually I told her that daddy is coming home soon as he just texted me, and suggested to her to go wait outside to welcome him home from his golf game. Say “Hi” like they always do when I return home late by myself. But she said, “Why? Daddy doesn’t deserve my ‘Hi’”. My… my. What brought that statement about? I prodded and eventually found out. The man doesn’t say goodbye in his telephone conversations, ending the talk in a proper closure. In this context, if daddy can’t say Goodbye, she won’t say Hi; he cannot give a Bye, so he doesn’t deserve a Hi. I reflect back to my conversations with both of them and I realized I do say Hi and Bye each time. We may not think much of this but to a child, wow….. talk about conversation courtesy. We are always emphasizing the Please and Thank You but Goodbye/Bye is left out. Something to think about…

Twelve Going on 18

M2 is approaching her 12th birthday… all grown up 12 going 18!!! But 12 going 18 or not, the kid in her is ever so evident! She made a birthday wish list recently and this ain’t no simple birthday wish list! It comes complete with drawings, doodles and some fancy typography! Done up like how mummy would do for the grocery list or on a note to the maid. (clue: I’d draw a chicken or chicken drumstick next to the word chicken). Between M1 and M2, the artistic skills are more prominent in M2. M1 is more logical in her thinking, more studious and disciplined, sometimes I wonder where she inherited her traits! Certainly not from me or even the hubby. M2’s artistic skills amazes even me, a graphic designer/design director and creative mind, holder of a Bachelor’s degree in this profession! What is even more amazing is the depth of a 12 year old’s mind. Was I ever like this when I was 12? So determined, so creative, so sure of what is wanted? Dare I even list down a whole list of 15 items to show my parents what I want for my 12th birthday, a birthday age that is even not a significant one? I must admit I threw M2 a memorable 10th birthday party as I convinced her 10 was a special age and number, thus deserving of a special birthday party. So she had a Lego-themed party, complete with a backdrop, Lego themed cake and Lego party packs. Needless to say M1 also had a special cake for her 10th birthday and a smaller party, if memory serves me well.

M1's birthday list with 15 items.

M2’s birthday list with 15 items.

Happiness exudes from M2 in front of the backdrop.

Happiness exudes from M2 in front of the backdrop.

The Lego-themed cake.

The Lego-themed cake.

There Are No Two Same Peas In A Pod

I have two adorable and funny girls, each with their own characteristics. So different in character yet so similar. M1 is ever the practical one, sensible in her own way and even more so than her mummy sometimes! M2 adores her and it annoys me when I tell M2 something and she has to verify with M1!!! Can you imagine the annoyance of being bumped down the hierarchy? I have to remind myself not to get too riled up with the annoyance and simply just enjoy their antics. Each their own characteristic literally in shape, mind and thoughts. M1 is more round, practical and disciplined while M2 leans toward skinny, day dreamer and needs to be pushed constantly. It’s a challenge to balance the degree of treatment given to such different peas in my pod!

Mummy Must Binky Boo

Every night, I will chat with them in their room, recap the events of the day to end the day and prep for the next, a nightly ritual will follow suit. The binky boo act is all about spreading their blankets over them to tuck them in. I used to sing and dance when they were younger but nowadays, it’s a rarity. Sometimes they think it is corny yet at times, the little tap dance and jiggle breaks out. However, it is the binky boo ritual that I enjoy most and they always say daddy can’t get it right nor do it right. Must be a special mummy skill…

Are Your Ears For Decoration?

A few years back, when the kids got me so mad, I would lecture them to “Listen to your mother”. Then I’d go on a warpath and asked them, “Do you have ears? Are they for decoration? Use them!” They would meekly look at the floor, blink their eyes and nod. Nowadays, the outburst hardly happens as they would bombard me with chatter of their school activities simultaneously; even the dog joins in sometimes with his constant bark! So much so, MY ears have now become decoration themselves as I can’t seem to make head or tail what they are saying! So now, to tackle this, a hand is raised to mimic the stop signal and the typical “Can two people not speak at the same time? Take a number then only you can speak!” It’s funny how rules have changed.

So anyway, I am still contemplating whether I should start a site, blog or whatever to jot my thoughts and insights to my otherwise mundane life… While jottings may not be on a constant basis and subject to what the girls throw at me and what I make of it… I need a name, a cool name, one where people will remember easily!

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Choosing the Name

12 Jun

It was hotly debated on Facebook with friends and bloggers on what I should call my site and it came down to two choices: Angienetics or Angieneering. And so far the pick is leaning towards Angieneering. I must say I am not an engineer but I’d like to think that all the documented anecdotes are engineered by my kids to spice up my life, hence Angieneering!

Credit must be given to an old friend, Meena P. for coining up this name. Thanks Meena.

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