(a little note: about the part on the rattlesnake, coincidentally, an episode of The Pink Panther was shown after we’d read this a few times together, where the panther accidentally stole a basket containing a baby instead of food during a picnic scene and in an effort to pacify the said baby, now crying, he’d removed the end of the rattlesnake’s tail to give to the baby as a rattle, and i guess this left such an impression with the kids that they associate it with this particular rattlesnake every time.)

(also, another note: they will inevitably ask the same question in every story with illustrations – “where’s the daddy/mummy/baby?” not sure why but there’s always a concern for the whereabouts of a missing family member in the story.)

made me wonder how much my parent forked out for mine, coz i have NO idea. they’d split costs – mom paid for my brother’s overseas education, dad paid for my local one. and i was fortunate enough to not have to repay any student loans whatsoever either. (dear dad, thank you for giving me my education. and while i’m at it, thank you too for paying for my driving lessons. and basically, for everything you spent on me. as my brother would constantly remind me, i was a spoilt princess – still am, yeah i know. :S)

so anyway, we’d settled on a whole life and term policy thing, same as her brother’s. i don’t know, i’m generally not very good with money (seeing how i’ve not been made to handle much of it in my life growing up), and just hope that things will work out for them in the future…

meanwhile, in the present, was updated of the girl’s progress in child care (she’s in a half-day programme for now). all good things so far. she especially likes the home corner and dress up corner (oh the gurly gurl she is turning out to be), storytelling and art, conversing with friends and teachers, discovering things, always the one to help distribute others’ water bottles… and i’ll spare you of the superlative adjectives her enthusiastic teachers had for her. :p

one thing the teacher DID ask me to work on with her was fine motor skill, in particular threading work, which she, for some reason, did not like doing. i’m guessing she doesn’t have the patience yet for it, but since it seemed like another activity we could do together at home, what the heck…

and the last thing we talked about was toilet training, which we all agreed she was pretty ready for. the past few weeks, she’d cooperated on the potty before bedtime, and the previous weekend she’d woken up, walked straight to our bed and asked to pee in the toilet, so i think all that reading of Princess Polly’s Potty came to fruition after all. well, that and the fact she has her older brother to model upon, and me, whom she follows to the toilet all the time to observe. (yes, that open-door policy still stands here at izadnhana’s abode, sigh.)

and so, am happy to report that this was her third day in preschool undiapered, and doing pretty okay (minor mishaps, ie. half-accidents, notwithstanding).

so yey to less diaper wastage! (and to mother earth, sorry we didn’t get started sooner).

we went for a ‘thematic approach’.

we spelled, counted, measured, talked about what the ingredients did, passed around the vanilla essence for everyone to smell….

we scooped, stirred, broke eggs, took turns, resolved conflicts…

we rolled dough, created shapes, sprinkled rainbow sprinkles and chocolate chips…

and with the smell of cookies baking in the oven, we did some storytelling… bilingually, too.

and of course, we tasted the fresh, warm, home-baked cookies, nevermind the dubious hygiene level of the cookie-makers, lol. they tasted pretty good, actually, despite the fact that we didn’t follow the ingredients too closely (seeing how things kept spilling).

we balanced tea time with fruits and nuts and then it was free play…

and we got hungry again at dinnertime, so we made some pizza. the little chefs were actually more interested in piling stuff on the dough than eating the final product, though they did collectively run to the oven every few seconds to peep through the oven door. so the ones who eventually ate were the adults, who also got creative and designed their own satay pizza (izad’s family are in the satay business, so it’s a staple at every function – the satay and peanut sauce are awesome.)

inspired by the success of this playgroup session, we’ve assigned the daddies to take over the next one. something less domestic and more outdoorsy… though it’d be interesting if they could conduct, oh i don’t know… origami or scrapbooking, maybe?? :p

in any case, she seems to have a knack at lipglossing sans mirror, just like me. won’t be long before she too can do it WHILE driving.

it’s, err, genetic.

*no alien figurines were harmed during the filming of this video.

had the mid-year parent-teacher-conference with aniq’s teachers last saturday. nothing much we don’t already know, really. basically that he CAN’T KEEP STILL (his hands and mouth are always moving!), very expressive, not shy, and gets along with everyone… and no, he still doesn’t read, like 75% of his class (i asked!) but recognises most alphabets (though still gets some of them mixed up). and i suppose there IS improvement in those slightly legible chicken scrawls… lol. i know i’m not supposed to worry TOO much, and shouldn’t be comparing, and he IS a december baby, so tendency to have to catch up with his cohort… but he likes schooling and learning enough to not complain or whine about it at this point, and loves getting us to read to him, so i guess that’s good enough for now. (but dammit, off to phonics class you go to, little boy…)

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we kinda overlooked that part, really. back then, we only had the short-term view of ensuring that our location of residence would be in close proximity to my parents, for many reasons (other than the $40k grant) – the convenience of checking in on each other, the supply of home-cooked food, the default caregiver to our kids… in short, we chose our house solely for the family support factor, and nothing else. (well, we DO like this particular area a lot for the aesthetics too.)

only in later years did we realise, there were in fact many parents who chose/moved/rented houses for the sole purpose of being in close proximity to good, reputable schools, thereby increasing their chances of placing their young child/ren in them. it was a radical jolt to my system, this piece of info. i mean, we seriously never thought about it. “like, really? people would go to such lengths?” well that just goes to show how, err, ill-prepared we were with the realities of being parents of school-going children in singapore.

so then i heard about this whole fantastical system called the Primary One Registration that had these things called phases, and it was again, another rude shock to my shelled oyster. “what? there are priorities given to register kids in school OTHER than proximity?!” my mom never told me thaaaaat. (ok maybe she did but i wasn’t listening, and besides, times have changed since she retired… i think.)

all the horror stories began to fill my ears, of parents who lived across the road from a particular school but did not succeed in obtaining a place for their kid, of parents who performed volunteer work religiously yet did not get through the balloting, of HOW HARD it is to get into that particular school because it’s so reputable, neighbourhood status notwithstanding, that it’s oversubscribed every year.

i’m sure there are just as many, if not more, parents who don’t think much of primary schools, and are just boggled over the fuss in the first place. “it’s just PRIMARY school, many kids come out of normal, nondescript ones doing well too, big deal.” they’re right, of course. i admire that kind of brave confidence, actually – that their kids CAN do well no matter where they go to, that it’s only in secondary school where they’ll ‘bloom’.

my parents, for some reason, had sent me to a particular girls’ school in the east, which was, in that era, a somewhat popular one. i remember going to school together with her on the bus and watching her by the school gate as she leaves – that particular image of her still stirs in me that same sad feeling to this very day. (separation anxiety, you may call it.) and if anything, that’s testament to how powerful your emotions and experiences are in the primary years, that it stays with you throughout your life. and i guess that’s the point i’m making; i had such deep, long-lasting impressions in my formative years in primary school – of friends and teachers, and importantly, of learning (i had such excellent language teachers, and i have them to thank for planting the seed that eventually became my strength) – that those six years were the most memorable ones for me. they weren’t all necessarily good ones, but i think, important ones. (though, ironically, the one thing i still can’t fully grasp, despite ten freaking years in a girls’ school, is dealing with the dynamics in a group of girls, ha haha.)

in any case, i wouldn’t be able to put aniq in a girls’ school, so the parents-as-alumni priority phase is out.

i looked around and realised, while there were a few neighbourhood schools that weren’t too bad, on account of the accolades they proudly blaze on banners outside their school gates, i sorta wish for my kid to go to nicer-sounding ones, with established history and long track record, and i don’t know, knowing actual people who came out of there and had promising/successful paths, you know? i guess all that sounds superficial and unreliable as basis for my choice, because i’ve NO idea what would work for my kid, whether he’ll thrive or survive regardless of the environment, what kind of teachers he’ll get, what kind of friends he’ll be surrounded with. then of course, there’s still the matter of convenience and proximity and sheer logistics… (by now, you’d have me for the typical overthinking, worrywart of a first-time parent, and you’d be right – bah!)

for all the uncertainties, i figure, the least i could do is try to get him into a school which he could one day thank me for, one that will hopefully leave a positive influence on him, and who knows, i could create a legacy for him, some day make it easier for him when the time comes to register for his kids’ when they reach the ripe schooling age of seven. (forward thinking lah, right.)

and because i need some sense of being in control, i chose to do the beaten path of parent volunteering, a concept i never imagined i’d embrace (just like exercising – 2010 seems to be a year of new discoveries, it would seem).

we were duly warned that there were no guarantees despite clocking in that 40 hours of PV (or more, as some have done). i’m not even sure if it’s worth doing it, really. it’s not say, the top school (if anything, i’m easily intimidated by competition), it’s not affiliated to any secondary schools, and it’s technically a neighbourhood school which is out of our 2km range… but i have my reasons for choosing it.

i’m going in with no high hopes, in case this is all a futile exercise. heck, i don’t even know if i’ll be able to complete the 40 hours! i’ll just take it as… experience? experiment? yeah, just go with it.

anyway, clocked in my first four hours at their annual funfair on friday. that’s me, in a badge that says ‘parent volunteer’, sweating under a hot tent, touting and doling out food which the other parents contributed. the REAL, hardcore parent volunteers, the NON-40-hour ones, mothers AND fathers who’ve been at this for years! omg i’ve never known such a thing as their enthusiasm and devotion to a parent volunteering network, i’m a little.. overwhelmed.

so, dear aniq, this better be worth my 40 hours….

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and that’s how it feels like exactly, rupturing out of my mouth – exhausting.

i’d dived into liz gilbert’s ‘eat pray love’ with little expectations that it would create even the tiniest affect on me, yet it surprised me with the little nuggets of wit, wisdom, and colourful descriptions that she served among the pages of her constant neuroses, self-absorbed whines, and incessant prattle on self-discovery.

(i’m still midway through the book, so i don’t know how she ends up. well, other than being extremely rich, with an A-list hollywood star to act as her in the movie to boot.)

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A: “Tuhan… Tuhan is… everywhere?”
M: “yes, EVERYWHERE!”
A: “Tuhan is here? in the room? on my bed?”
M: “yesss, he’s EVERYWHERE, aniq.”
A: “everywhere? inside the body? inside my heart also?”
M: *pause – i never thought he would think of his heart, or his body for that matters, as a physical residence, but…* “YES, of course he’s inside your heart, to protect you. that’s why you don’t need to be scared when you sleep! see, you are not alone, because he’s always watching you. you just say Bismillahirahmanirahim and don’t worry, no bad dreams, no nightmares. just say that before you sleep. (and must wash feet also.)”
A: *thinks* “then, Tuhan got watch tv or not?”
M: “no lahhh, how can he watch tv? he has to watch everyone. EVERYONE, aniq! how is he going to watch you, and auni, and mummy, and daddy, and your friends, and everybody if he’s watching tv??”
A: “ohhh. then can teach me how to say again… bis-mi-yah…?”

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and i sorta had an epiphany – maaaaybe the reason why i never warmed up to this whole active lifestyle was because my parents didn’t really bring me out to do sporty activities as a kid, or supported my school sports’ events? i don’t know, just a theory. (so what DID we do then? i think i was indoors a lot. my childhood’s a little hazy – and apparently, lazy.)

anyway, the kids’ school had a sports league thingy, in line with their theme and i suppose, the upcoming youth olympic games, and i thought, what the heck, it’s one saturday morning that’s already thought-out for us. (we’re always racking our brains thinking up of things to make them tired on weekends, so they’d turn in early at the end of the day – not that it ever works.)

hey do you remember your school sports days?? the only thing i remember is the ICE COLD MILO they used to give out in small plastic cups! it tasted SO delicious back then, for some reason. of course, the rest of my memory is of hiding in corners of the bleachers with other anti-sports friends. heh.

speaking of friends, each school had displays of what they did to tie in with the theme, and guess who aniq introduced us to…

… the mysterious girfriend he’s always talking about. she IS real.

i liked that they highlighted little anecdotes and photos as evidence of what they did or talked about in class, coz i think most times, we parents have little idea what they do in there, five days a week. my daily question of “what did you do in school today?” has them invariably answering in the standard “i eat” / “i play toys” / “i donno”, or if i’m lucky, random ramblings of who pushed who, or who was naughty.

and importantly, we also got to see who they hang out with, five days a week.

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we’ve actually long stopped buying formula for him, and he’s been drinking fresh milk for a while (even that, upon request). oh well. have never been a big fan of powdered milk… though we were reminiscing fondly how we used to drink this particular brand as a kid, KLIM, which we only realised later in life, was MILK spelt backwards. anyone remembers that? now-defunct. probably because someone found out it STUNTED GROWTH. (ok, just a theory, so don’t quote me, lest nestle comes after me for defamation…)

anyway, this event was timely coz we’d run out of auni’s milk (yes, she still drinks it, of course, wouldn’t want to risk stunting HER growth), and being kiasu parents (don’t judge, you’ll know when you become economical parents), got a good deal, $99 for 6 tins. and confession: sometimes we give aniq her milk. i mean, milk is milk lah right? (another theory – different packaging for different age range, other than for infants’ milk, is just a marketing ploy… but again, don’t quote me.)

so, err, bottoms up…

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