All About Your Child

Being a parent is having to wake up at 5am in the morning with eyes half open and mind still asleep, holding a dustbin infront of your coughing child, ready to catch whatever vomits that is going to come splashing out of his mouth like the merlion.

Then due to over-exertion, your little flesh and blood couldn’t hold his bladder and water came out from below at the same time as semi-liquids spat out from the mouth (OF COS THEY ARE OF DIFFERENT SUBSTANCE)

And you’ve got to wash the bedsheet, the bolster cover, the pajamas even before the sun is up. Clean him up real good to make sure he doesn’t smell like an unwashed toilet bowl and finally gave up your own bed for him to rest while you hang the washed mattress out of the window, waiting and hoping for the sun to do its magnificent work on that wet mess real soon.

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Being a parent is having to go through a conversation like this:-

Kid: “Mommy, why Henry’s Mommy buys toys for Henry even though its not his birthday?
Mommy (who is determined to stick by her principal): “Is Henry’s Mommy your Mommy?”
Kid: “No.”
Mommy: “Would you like to be Henry’s Mommy’s Son?”
Kid: “No.”

Mommy: “But if you become her son, you don’t need to wait till it’s your birthday to have toys.”
Kid: “I don’t love her, I don’t want to be her son.”
Mommy: “So do you love me?”
Kid: “Yes”
Mommy: “Do you want to continue to be my son?”
Kid: “Yes”

Mommy: “So if you love me and wants to continue to be my son, what should you do?”
Kid: “Listen to you.”
Mommy: “So what did I say about buying toys then?”
Kid: “You will buy toys only on my birthday.”

Mommy: “Agree?” (Sticking out the pinky finger)
Kid: “Yes” (Hooking his pinky onto the mommy’s pinky finger)

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Being a parent is having to harden your heart to give appropriate punishment at the appropriate time.

And after 5 minutes of ‘Quiet Time’, you come back and see the younger one was actually having fun (while being punished) with his tiny feet in his PaPa’s shoes and then you extended another 5 minutes as you get that pair of big shoes far from his reach.

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Being a parent is having to come up with a new story every night, with a good morale behind it and eventually made your little one cry because of your talented story-telling skills (*laugh* thick-skinned! But Binbin DID CRY over one of my made-up stories) and then wake up in the morning with wet kisses all over your face, good enough for a saliva-facial-treatment.

Being a parent is having to give up your leisure time, your me-time, you and your hubby’s lovey-dovey time and be the idol of your children completely.

Being a parent is having a couple of additional white hairs, a number of awful night rests, a hundred of worries, a thousand of laughters and a lifetime of bonded-love.

Panda eyes, worn-out body, additional stress, endless worries, challenging kiddy issues IN EXCHANGE FOR a bond so strong that only GOD could separate it (which HE would never do), this GAME OF PARENTING I’m all in! Are you in this with Me too?

(This is a continuation from the previous post. I strongly suggest that you read the previous one before going on to this…or else, you might be going “Huh?”, “How come?” , “What was that?”, “Why” as you read along) So please go ahead and read the previous post first….

The old folks say, “Its because he (Binbin) is a ‘2-eyed’ (on the top of his head) kid. ‘2-eyed’ kids are ALWAYS a difficult child.”

The superstitious say, “He could have been disturbed by the ‘unclean‘, hence he doesn’t rest well for so many days, afterall we ARE 10 days into the one month long Hungry Ghost Festival. Go wash him with ‘hong hua’ leaves and he will be fine.”

The logicalist say, “He may have over-played during the day or just before he sleeps, that’s why he can’t rest well.” (Hey it was many days ok! Not just one day, so I disagree with this)

Whatever it is. This HAD TO STOP. After what happened on the previous night. This morning at 1am, he started yelling again while I was blog hopping to finish off my 300+ posts-yet-to-be-read…

Remember my hint? I wasn’t asleep, so I wasn’t pissed. I was ready to play the waiting game. My mind was all set and geared up to the challenge.

I stepped away from my PC and walked towards the bedroom, he was jumping up and down on my bed with his knees bent. I asked him, “Are you ok? What happened?”

“Ahhhhhh…….MMaaaaaMMeeeee, I Want You!” he yelled in response.

“OK, I’m here. Come, Mommy hug you.” As I moved towards him, he backed off and hit his back against the wall and started banging himself against it.

It became my turn to back-off, till it was 1 meter away from him, that’s when he stopped the banging but still in the tantrum condition.

I kept quiet. I waited. I waited for him to speak first. I waited for him to tell me what he was truly unhappy about. He knows me well. He knows I am waiting for the answer.

After 2-3mins, he stopped moving. He stopped yelling. He stared blankly on my crumpled bedsheet. After another 2-3mins, he fell asleep.

I walked away, back to my PC. Managed to type but another 5 alphabets and it started again! He was banging and screaming.

“Yes Binbin? What do you want? Milk?” I begged for an answer, but completely at peace mentally, ‘cos I wasn’t sleepy.

“Yaaaeeeeeesssssss!” answered unwillingly and in an absolute angry tone, as if he felt he have lost in the Mastermind game whereby I read his thoughts so well.

Allan prepared his milk, but half the usual quantity, fearing that he may wet the bed at night if he fell asleep again while sucking his bottle.

Upon seeing his milk bottle, he yelled and started another tantrum which have stopped some seconds ago, “Don’t want! I don’t want! Waaaaaahhhhhh!”

I put it aside, without a word and again, he sat there motionless for minutes and dozed off in a sitting position with his legs bent backwards. So I went to my PC again, this time I managed to get another sentence on the comment box and there goes my 3 year old again at the top of his voice, whining away in attempt to wake all my neighbours.

I took the milk and put it in front of his face without saying a word. He backed off again. This time he stuffed his little bum into the gap between my bed and the wall. At that corner, he continued to cry, to whine, but much longer this time, as if to fight his tireness in order not to doze off again, but he failed. He slept with his bum stuck in that tiny gap between the bed and the wall.

Again I walked away, but this time, before I was even seated, he screamed, “I WANT MORE MILK MILK!”

OH! So that’s what he wanted. So I went to prepare a NEW bottle of milk, ‘cos the previous one prepared by the dad was way too cold for consumption already.

I put it in front of his face. He took it. Yeah! I thought. But I celebrated too early, the next moment, he threw it on the mattress and wet his own bed when the milk spilled out. I glared at him. Still keeping my mouth closed. I’m not gonna shout, not gonna yell and definitely not gonna do what I did yesterday.

Allan knew it was NOT a normal tantrum, he got up and took charged, he wanted me to stop the waiting game, he wanted to do the hard way, but gently. He carried the struggling kid to the kitchen. As Binbin kicked and beat his dad, the man was determined to get the unfamiliar kid out of the bedroom in fear of waking up the elder one who was happily talking in his sleep.

Binbin grew tired of struggling, ‘cos he knows in term of strength, he was bound to lose to his dad. He rested his tired body completely on the chest of his dad. Allan started to ask questions, “Binbin, we want to help you feel better. But if you don’t tell us, we can’t help you.”

“I DON’T WANT YOU!!! GO AWAY!! i WANT MOMMY!!!” screamed my boy.

But Allan know his little boy too well, he knew that it was a trick, he just want to fly out of his clutches. Allan refused to let go even though Binbin was kicking and beating even harder than before on the big-walking-punching-bag.

Allan suggested that I should switched on the Playhouse Disney channel for him, he thinks that that may calm him down. I obeyed. He carried the child to the living room from the kitchen and rested him on the sofa.

He quietened down and demanded angrily, “I WANT MY BABY BOLSTER AND MY CUTE LITTLE BABY!”

I did as commanded by my little sergeant. He lied down on the sofa, hugging his bolster and his little bear, sucking his milk with his eyes glued on the TV. I NEVER ALLOW THAT!!! Allan knew I was unhappy but he gave me the eye-signal, “just for this time, ok? just this one time…”

Allan was extremely exhausted, it was 3am in the morning, he went to bed and snored in seconds. I went back to my PC and typed yesterday’s post. When I was through, I heard the sound of the TV being switched off. Little foot steps were approaching me and when I turned my head, the little rascal was smiling at me, “Mommy, can you switch off the PC, I need to sleep already.”

That was the sweetest sentence ever for the entire day! He slept in less than 5mins, but I was wide awake still. I continued my blog hopping and at 4.30am, it was Keatkeat’s turn, he was up sneezing, mucus were all over his mattress cover and pillow case, my poor Allan was woken again!

We cleared up the mess but Keatkeat wouldn’t stop sneezing. I gave him the runny nose medicine and stayed beside him till he was back in dreamland again. By then at 5.30am, I was exhausted, that’s when I switched off my PC and went off to bed…

Its 9.45pm now, almost time for bed for the kids. My fingers and toes are crossed real tight. Will today be the 3rd day in a row, to have another crazy night with my 3 year old? *sigh* Will you keep your fingers and toes crossed for me too?