The children are growing up too fast it’s hard to keep pace with them. The growing up needs are non-stop too.
“Mummy, I need new shoes.”
“Mummy, I need new clothes.”
“Mummy, there’s a party and I need a new dress.”
“Mummy, I am a growing child. I need to eat!” On and on they would go. Sigh…
Sometimes I get tired of their constant requests and simply told them to stop growing and stay as they are now. Wishful thinking…
Not too long ago, M1 openly complained that M2 has been very soft and called her a tofu; M2 took to heart her association with the food type.
We went out for dinner on one occasion and I happened to order tofu and scooped some for M2 to eat but she declined and said,”Mummy, I don’t eat my kind.”
“Huh?”
“She’s a tofu and she doesn’t eat her kind,” M1 explained.
Ahhh… What a clever new excuse to avoid food that one does not like.
When I was young, I had imaginary friends who were very interesting and loyal. Way cooler than real friends, they were constantly by my side and totally understands me. I never knew this trait is also evident in my children until I was spring-cleaning their room recently.
It was a Sunday and we decided to revamp the girls’ room a little to create two study corners. As boxes of toys were moved, we had to decide whether to give them away or keep them elsewhere to create space. In the midst of this, I stumbled upon a note written by M2 when she was young.
“Oh… Shaun! That’s her imaginary friend!” chuckled M1.
“Really? I never knew!” I said.
We opened the folded note and read it.
It was hilarious!
I must salute M2, for her imaginary friend was way, way more interesting than mine! And letters… classic. I never wrote letters to my imaginary friends.
It was a typical night as I walked into the girls’ room to do the nightly binkie-boo ritual when M2 opened the bathroom door and said, “Mummy! Come look at my eyes!”
Intrigued, I obliged. She took her iPod and turned on the flashlight mode and shined it into her eyes.
M2 enthused “Look! I’ve got woody eyes!” as in the irises brown and textured.
“Nice!” I agreed and asked, “Let me see my eyes.” before reaching out for the iPod to shine into my eyes too.
“Waaaaaaa! Mummy, you have woody eyes too! I have your eyes,” she said excitedly.
Unable to contain her excitement, she came out of the bathroom to share this with M1, who was already in bed.
“I wanna see my eyes too!” the sleepyhead requested.
So M2 climbed onto the bed and shined the flashlight into M1’s eyes, which could hardly open.
“Umm… brown but not woody like Mummy’s” M2 concluded.
Sometimes I like to spell things out, literally, for the girls. I’d come home from work and call out to them by spelling out their names. M2 find this amusing and would reply by spelling out her greeting. It’s fun.
However, there are occasions where I’d abbreviate things especially when nagging at them.
“Don’t you M&G about it!” I’d threaten.
No, M&G is not the clothes brand, M&G or Mango but ‘moan and groan’ about the situation, the homework, the predicament or life in general…
When the girls were young, they used to question why the bellybutton is called a ‘bellybutton’ when it looks more like a hole than a button? Shouldn’t it be called the ‘bellyhole’ if it looks more like a hole than a button? And where is the button?! I had no answer to that one so we ended up calling it the ‘belly-ba’, to note its neither here nor there physical characteristic.
It was several nights ago when the evening conversation suddenly focused on the belly-ba. Both girls were laughing at each other’s physical attribute of this part of the anatomy, calling it names from the black hole to the abyss that made me recall fondly of this name, the belly-ba, that we have given to the bellybutton.
It was a hot and humid Sunday morning; M1 went for her usual Physics and Chemistry tuition and we were home idling the hours away until it was time to fetch her. Frustrated by the non-progress in my Candy Crush attempts at Level 500, I decided to channel my energy to clean out M2’s wardrobe instead. This was a long overdue dreaded chore that I had put off for the longest time possible until now.
M2 has clothes that she has outgrown and we needed to look through them to either throw or give away. The piles were growing… from tee shirts, singlet, shorts to school uniforms and pyjamas. As we were going through each item, we stumbled upon her superhero pyjamas!
Wow. Quite a collection she has… Batman, The Incredibles and Spider-Man. Spidey was her favorite so much so, she had two sets of it in the original colors (red and blue) and one in black. We reminisced for a bit on Spidey and decided she’s passed the stage donning hero jammies; after all M2 is going on 13 this year and we didn’t think she can fit into them anymore.
So goodbye Spidey (and others), you were cool and will be missed. Reluctantly, all the superheroes were placed in the give-away pile. But she kept the Spidey masks for old time’s sake.
The Saturday routine has evolved again. M1 signed up for extra classes for Physics and Chemistry and last Saturday, classes began. So we had to ferry her to the tuition centre at an odd time, 5.00pm to 6.30pm. During the one and a half hour duration, instead of just waiting at a nearby coffee shop (going home was too much of a hassle), we decided to do our grocery at Tesco, a short drive away.
At Tesco, when a little chatty girl whined and quickly walked passed us after her ruffled father, M2 commented, “Kids nowadays! They are so bratty!”
“Excuse me? And what are you, may I ask? Are you not a kid?” I looked at her and she merely grinned.
The irony of it, the chastising of another child by my child, who’s still a kid and will only turn 13 come June but thinks like she’s 23 already.
Recently, I found my old Palm T device and decided to boot it up, which was a good thing for I discovered many recordings that I did of the two girls when they were very young.
Listening to the old voice recordings brought much laughter and memories back.
M2 was just kindie-going when she first learnt how to spell. I guess ‘RED’ is the first one a toddler learns in school. And along with it, they also learn how to spell their name.
It was at a family Christmas gathering that we put her on the pedestal, proudly to show off what she has learnt that first year.
“Spell your name,” I gently coaxed her.
Loudly and confidently, she went,“R-E-D. Mabel Red!” Surprise caught everyone then laughter broke out in the family.
“Mabel red?” I asked, wide-eyed.
“Yes. I am Shiny Red Apple,” she beamed at me. Well, it was Christmas, spirits were high and happy, we all had a good laugh about it.
Ahh… Such memories.
M2 is twelve this year (how time flies!) and no, we won’t put her on the pedestal this coming Christmas.
Angieneering 
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