All About Your Child

After buying the piggy bank for Keatkeat – my little ‘money-magnet’, Binbin has been looking forward to a day he gets his own. Finally his wait is over.

We bought this from Mini Toons at S$3.95, pretty expensive (to me. Ah, me and my retail-stinginess), but his dad decided to go for it.

There were 4 other characters but we chose this because its green, one of Binbin’s favourite colour (for now). There were 3 words written on the back of the Froggy, “Less is More”. Allan and I had the same response when we saw it.

We couldn’t quite understand what does that mean, somehow the phrasing seems funny. It means that by saving a little at a time, eventually, in time to come, you would have saved more, IS that IT???

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Time flies. Indeed it does. We have received the notification that Binbin is accepted into the same school as his elder brother next year.

My little rascal is finally going to get his very first school uniform, be alone for more than 30mins without any of us (the familiar faces), start making friends on his own…..just seems so exciting, will he cry for the first few days, I bet he will!

His brother cried for a week, lets see if sticky-Binbin is going to break that record!

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I woke up with a bump on my pinky finger a couple of days ago, its still subsiding…

I used to get this almost every now and then when I was a kid and my dad used to have an unusual explanation for it. Now (it was my turn) I’m reciting the same story to my curious kids.

Binbin: “Mommy, what is that?”

Me: “The mosquitoe bit me and left his saliva inside my skin.”

Binbin: *Frown*

I used to burst it with a needle in order to squeeze out the liquid but no longer now, can’t be bothered already I guess, with so much things on hand waiting for me to do, even a few seconds is precious.

But seriously, does any of you know why does this happen? Is it caused by the mosquitoes?

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I enjoyed having my ear dug. It used to be something that my dad would do to my sis and I whenever his ears needed to be dug. I like the feeling of the ear-pick massaging the inner skin of my ears more than the thought of having my ears cleaned.

I noticed my boys like that feeling too, ‘cos they are ‘begging’ for their ears to be picked EVERYDAY, so I’ve decided to change the metal ear-pick to a wooded one so that its more gentle on their tender skin.

It has a cute top. The funny thing is, the moment the kids saw it, they shouted in unison, “La Bi Xiao Xin!”

*Laugh* I never saw the resemblance, but now I do!

But seriously, if you really want your ears to be cleaned by a ear-pick, please get the metal type, ‘cos the wooden kind is way too big and too thick. The chances of pushing the ear-wax further into the ear is higher than getting them out!

But then again, I’ve heard many say that it is not necessary to get your ears picked….oh well…so long as my kids are happy, never mind what others say, so long as I’m careful while doing it on their ears, right?

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?