Move Aside, Linda…

1 Jul

Next to my superhero alter-ego, Linda, there is another even more powerful superhero, the Google Mum.

Whenever faced with a mind-boggling situation, the hubby would tell the girls, “Go ask the Google Mum. She knows everything.”

Like just now over lunch, he had chewing gum stucked to his shoe and instantly, Google Mum found the solution (use WD40 to remove) or when M2’s iPod took a dive into the jello pudding, it was Google Mum—not Linda—who found the solution; it’s always Google Mum to the rescue.

Google Mum is also expected to know where everything is in the house, right down to its exact location and coordinates. Might as well be elevated to Googlemap Mum.

Many times I would receive a call from home asking where this and that are kept and I have to give the step-by-step directions to go look for that item in question.

Amazing capabilities the Google(map) Mum has and gives Linda a good run for the money!

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I Need a Plaster

1 Jul

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There must be something magical or addictive to having a plaster (band-aid) stuck on the body. Worn like a proud badge over a war wound, little children simply loves it for its sense of security and magical healing powers.

When M1 was young, she adored having plasters on her limbs. Whenever she discovers a mosquito bite, she’d ask for a plaster to cover it. But when there were several mosquito bites, it became ridiculous, I had to put a stop to it. So I decreed, “You put a plaster over it only if there is blood, ok? No blood, no plaster!”

So the next time, she had a mosquito bite, she cleverly scratched the spot until blood oozed out. “See? Got blood. I need a plaster.” Sigh.

The obsession with the plaster thankfully ended when M1 got older. Now it’s M2’s turn, plastering even a surface scratch. Let’s see how long this addiction will last.

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Gimme the Gas!

30 Jun

As we celebrate M2’s 12th birthday today, memories of her birth suddenly comes flooding back. The excitement and anticipation are a blur but I recall throughout the pregnancy, I was coughing really bad. But the minute she popped out, the coughing stopped. Strange.

I also remember the pain being super unbearable, as if someone was chopping my lower back with a hatchet non-stop. And I remember the gas! The minute the nurse asked if I wanted it (as I opted not to take the epidural), I was like, “Gimme the gas NOW!”

The gas mask reminded me of M1’s birth; she arrived 11 days ahead of her EDD and both hubby and I were not in time to be up-to-date on our birthing process homework, rushing to the hospital right after the end of ‘The X-Files’.

Out of ignorance, he warned me not to use it and this resulted in me having so much pain, I cursed him all the way. This time around with M2, heck with it, I am inhaling, big time.

By the time the gynae came around, man, I was so high on the happy gas (pethidine), I was delirious! I kept counting my fingers, and proclaimed I was fine, which thankfully was a good thing for M2 came into our lives without a hitch.

Our babies may come into this world with so much pain but the joy they give us is priceless.

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My Baby’s A Baby No More!

30 Jun

Today M2, my baby, officially turns 12 and is a baby no more. She reiterated the fact last night by stating, “Mummy, I now have to pay full price for everything!”

I know. My baby is all grown up.

(Tears swelling in my eyes)

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It Has Your Name on It?

28 Jun

This is about me and my only elder sibling dinosaur years ago and I still remember it until today.

I think I was ten or thereabouts and he, three years older than me. We were both having lunch at home and fighting over the last piece of chicken.

“Mine!” I said.

“No. Mine,” he countered. The little squabble went on, it was quite childish.

Then brilliantly, I said, “Can’t be yours. Doesn’t have your name on it!” and stuck my tongue out at him.

With a glint in his eyes, he smirked back at me and said, “Yes it does. C-h-i-c-K-E-N!” and triumphantly pierced the drumstick to savour in my face. I am pretty sure I was willing him to choke on some chicken skin or something.

Don’t Talk to Us

27 Jun

When I was young, going to Singapore with my parents by car was always a happy occasion. Singapore! Grandma! Shopping! Yay. But the 7-hour journey was never looked forward to, too long an ordeal. The main PLUS highway was not constructed then to ease traffic traveling South.

Nonetheless, my brother and I would play ‘Spot the car number plate’ games or read books to keep ourselves entertained. After all, during the dinosaur era, there was no such thing as the iPod, iPad, what more smartphones and the radio stations then were hardly hip and happening.

Fast forward to now. Whenever we travel outstation, a good three to five hours’ drive depending on destination, the girls will be equipped with the iPod, iPad, phone, books and headphones. And they always tell me, “Mummy, don’t talk to us, we can’t hear you. If you need to, wave your hands, ok?”

Hrmph.

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Facing the Music

26 Jun

Both M1 and M2 plays guitar which is nice. Nights when I come home tired and brain-drained, a little impromptu live duet entertainment can be very soothing along with that big glass of wine.

Typical of learning an instrument and to advance, they have music exams to overcome. And while M1 was outwardly cool about it, M2 showed her frazzled nerves. “Butterflies in your tummy?” the hubby asked. “No. It feels like cockcroaches,” she replied forlornly.

Thankfully both survived the ordeal and passed with flying colors.

Really?? Real-lee!!!

25 Jun

The hubby likes to poke fun at my last name every now and then. He would say the silliest things out of the blue in his attempt to coin up words that describes an action, situation or thing and join it with my last name, Lee.

Towards the end of last week, for instance, I told him that the current haze situation is making me very nasal. And he’d go, “You mean ‘Nasal-lee’?” Hardy-har-har…

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It’s So Hazy, I Cannot Hear!

25 Jun

I just had to write about this topic and make light of the suffocating situation.

The last time we had the haze so bad was 1997 (as officially reported) but I don’t recall, probably I had my hands full with the arrival of M1 that year. Subsequently, the haze occurred every now and then, typically during the hot months from April to August, but I think it wasn’t this bad.

This year’s haze is one mighty superstrong particle-ladened one that a friend suspects it’s the culprit triggering her home smoke alarm two nights’ ago. It’s causing a lot of discomfort, reducing visibility and hearing capability, as least for me. I am all congested with my nose and ears blocked and breathing becomes very energy sapping. I cannot hear in this clogged state of mind. Both M1 and M2 are very amused by the blocked ears.

They’d start mumbling or stringing a sentence very quickly; then say something out loud, as if testing my hearing ability. Sadly, each time I fail. The conclusion: I can only hear sentences made up with three words, no more than that. Darn this bloody haze.

 

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There’s Nothing to Eat in the House

24 Jun

I get this all the time when they come home from school. A phone call, a complaint and a sigh. It amazes me when there is bread on the counter, ice cream in the fridge and dinner being prepared (by the maid), I am told by M2 there is nothing to eat!

After I pointed out all the obvious, she listed the specifics: junk food, munchies and snacks for the between meal occasions. Ahh… Those are food, right!

Bread is not a snack, it’s a breakfast food; ice cream is dessert and one does not eat dessert before dinner and dinner is, well, dinner.

I cannot win. Double sigh.

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