I’ve been a bit busy

Three words.

Ipod, Limewire, Facebook.

Update: I’ve uninstalled Limewire, realizing it’s not the smartest thing to be exposing self to all manner of viruses.

Diaper changing is a contact sport

And I’m the reigning champion in this house.

If you can chase, tackle, pin down and wrestle a screaming toddler in mid-tantrum, you’d be one too.

And if you wonder why I insist of changing his diaper when he’s like that, it should be noted he got into this state precisely because we differ on when diaper changing should happen. Me – Now; Nate – Never.

Bah

There you have it. Nate’s first word. While he theoretically says “ma-ma-ma” and “pa-pa-pa”, we aren’t quite sure if he’s really saying it in reference to his parents, or just saying it randomly.

But “Bah” is different. It is “Bah” with a capital B. In reference to buses. Whenever he sees a bus, he will say “Bah!” in a breathy voice of wonderment, pointing to the oncoming vehicle. He will then quickly whip his head the other direction to watch the “bah” pass us, and once again, in a dreamy sort of way, exclaim “Bah!” as the bus pulls out of view.

Yeah. Bah.

Wasted

Walking into the kitchen, our three-year-old, always with a flare for dramatics, proclaims theatrically while gesturing to the kitchen towel roll on the counter:

“Mommy! The kitchen towels are wasting!”

What she was trying to get at was that we’re down on kitchen towels. I think her choice of “wasting” comes from the perpetual nagging she gets not to waste tissue.

Deep probing questions

It all started with bones. First it was her book on the bones in our body. And X-rays. And another book about a broken leg.

Then we got to talking about birds. We had watched some programme about birds earlier and she wanted to know what bird bones looked like.

So we surfed the internet for a bird skeleton. And she had this other query which I promised to show her – a camel. We had read about camels earlier and I promised to show her on the web because she couldn’t remember what they were supposed to look like. But she got creative, and asked about a camel skeleton instead.

Google showed us a decayed camel in the dessert. So she asked why the camel was dead. I had to explain that we can see the bones of animals and people only after they die (in response to her looking at her arm and saying she can’t see her bones). She obviously asked why and I then had to go into decay and returning to the earth. She suggested “fixing it” so that the camel wouldn’t be dead (I’m not sure what she meant here), but I had to explain that once the camel dies, it can’t come back.

That got us to a whole new territory. She wanted to know why we can’t come back after we die. I said we go to live with God. As long as we’ve been good. Which is why it is important to do the best we can everyday, so that if we’re good, we get to live with God when we die. She wanted to know why we can’t come back after we die. I said it’s just the way it is – we can’t. So she wanted to know what there was to do with God (she asks me everyday what we’re going to do for the day). I assured her that would be lots to do. She asked if she could bring something along when she went to live with God (she’s always asking to bring things along when we go out). I told her that she couldn’t, but that everything she needed would be there. Then I told her she needn’t worry – she wouldn’t be going to live with God quite yet. *fingers crossed*

It’s strange how one whole evening’s worth of conversations and books and TV programmes got us here tonight.

Ocean Park on a summer’s day

Is a bad idea. Very bad indeed.

Eyebrows

Danny and I were discussing eyebrows over breakfast. Mine, his, how Sara’s are nice and thick and how Nate’s are sparse like ours.

Me: Wonder where you (Sara) get your eyebrows from?

Sara: From God.

Right you are, girl, right you are.

Teetering on the brink

There is something about the persistent whining of a three-year-old and the explosive tantrums of a one-year-old that drive people bananas. Between having my older child impersonate a broken record, repeating “Mommy…” in the most annoyingly whiny voice possible every 10 seconds or so, and my younger child exploding into an awful rolling mess of tears, yelling and kicking several times a day, I am beginning to wonder at the wisdom of motherhood. Or more like, my judgement thinking I can handle motherhood.

I feel like I need another can of beer already. Someone, anyone, send me a keg.

Two little monkeys, swinging in a tree

No tree, no swinging, but definitely two monkeys.

Courtesy of Evi.

Back to school

I can’t believe it. I’m actually going back to school. I, who vowed upon graduation to never sit for another exam, am actually going back to school.

Come September, I will become a fully fledged member of the University of Hong Kong. I am taking a part-time postgraduate diploma in creative writing. Yes, I know, it’s a flighty thing to do, but it is something I’m genuinely interested in. This will hopefully push me to learn more about the craft and more importantly, force me to really focus on improving my writing. Not that I am sure I’ll ever get published (or even want to), nor that I will write anything longer than a 1000 word essay, but I am sure I will be glad that I did it rather than if I had passed this opportunity up.

Imagine that. A student again.