a few things happening here, if you wish to observe:
- lil A, like most kids, especially girls, loves to dance.
- the part where the chicks go “cheep cheep here, cheep cheep there”, she interprets as “cheek cheek”, which is why she pats her cheeks.
- the twisting thing she does with her hands and wrists, that’s her trademark, reserved for songs she likes best.
- like most girls going wild on the dance floor, she gets jeered at by boys, in this case, a bigger boy, and in turn, her silly brother. the bigger boy started it, pointing out her diaper peeking out of her skirt, and the two boys went into hysterics over her diaper showing, for some reason. boys! *rolls eyes* she has no idea why they’re laughing at her, but whatever, maybe she’s hawt (she does have a thing for bigger boys, remember?), so she goes on dancing, oblivious and enjoying the attention. it’s all very paris hilton.
- her “quack quack” action is more like shaving her armpit.
- the girl beside her is older by a few months but she’s got to learn some moooves, man.
i gotta buy more loud nursery rhyme cds.
*-*-*-*-*
so it was adam’s 5th birthday, and his aunt and uncle (no, not us) wanted to surprise him with a party. so sweet of them to throw him one. then again, i think i’d do the same – if i haven’t had kids myself.
he’s not close to me as much as i’d like us to be, but circumstances being so (he’s taken care of by his other grandma and only visits my mum once a week, at most), i hardly get to see him, or his brother, often. sad coz i remember when mum looked after him as a baby, i used to rush home from work, or steal away during lunch time, just so i could play with him, and i’d be all :( when his parents reached there before me to fetch him home.
and he’s so big now. very smart. very articulate. still shy. i gave him a book entitled “how to talk to girls”. i’m sure his parents won’t let him read it. (yes, he can read.)
the boys who used to fight for attention and toys when they were babies and toddlers, are crazy about each other when they meet. they go into animated chatter and form their own games only they get. i wish for them to keep bonding through the years. imagine them as teenagers! they’d surely cringe at these. *chuckle*
not sure why, but when she saw my 11-yr-old nephew, she flashed herself – and kept doing it when she met him another day (means she remembers him specifically; she doesn’t do it to anyone else… i hope). then she kept tugging his shirt from behind, giggling when he carries her.
omg. smitten with boys at 18mths?? :S
speaking of reaching 18 mths, have been thinking of placing the lil one in either her brother’s previous playgroup for a daily 3-hour programme, or half-day care at his current childcare centre. asked him if he would help look out for his sister if she were in his school. he said he would. “adik can go in baby class,” he says.
i like that the boy is largely independent, too curious for his own good, mischievous to no end (!!), but loving and lovable in his own rambunctious way. his sister has somewhat similar traits, but a girl being a girl, has a certain… je ne sais quoi that makes her a bit more adorable AND annoying at the same time. (how do you explain the nuances of ‘mentel’ and ‘menggeramkan’ in english anyway?)
sometimes we like to try to figure out who or where they get their particular traits from – her hard-headed stubbornness from mummy? his playfulness from daddy? – then give up, because it didn’t matter; they’re a mishmash of DNAs, each the way they are as a result of personality, circumstances, environment; a cocktail concoction of nature and nurture. and as they say, the whole is more than the sum of its parts. besides, i’ve asked mum on several occasions whether i was ever like either of them in terms of behaviour, and she could never confirm or deny, excuse being she “can’t remember”. i wish i knew, coz from the few unsmiling pictures of me, i figured i was quite a grumpy child. (not much has changed then.) on the other hand, EVERYBODY on izad’s side of the family tells me he was the naughtiest and most mischievous of the lot, so looks like that part didn’t skip a generation (darnnit).
so anyway, back to my so-called ‘planning’ and ‘strategies’. sure, letting the lil one hang around at home would be the easiest solution. it’s not so much for lack of support from the grandparent or hired help that i seemingly ‘banish’ them to playgroups and childcare. but rather, for the chance to explore, discover, adapt to other activities and people, big and small, in the expansive world out there, outside of the house and the gogglebox, that i wish to contribute to their whole, with whatever limited means that i have. do they really need it? will they be deprived otherwise? maybe, maybe not. i don’t know, i lean more towards the ‘let’s-expose-them’ camp than the ‘let’s-shelter-them’ camp.
but meanwhile, err, let’s not over-expose yourself there, lil one, and STOP FLASHING YOUR BRITNEY BITS!
we used to do this on aniq to amuse ourselves, now it’s her turn.
==================
(purely for recording purposes):
i guess i should note for posterity, like i did the last time with the elder one, that she’s weaned herself off b/f-ing at around 16 mths (11 of which were exclusive). a mean feat? i think so, seeing she wasn’t as much of a guzzler.
guess we both didn’t have the drive to keep going till she turned two years after all. which was just as well, coz the supply had gone dismal, and we’re both happy being independent off each other.
so yeah, no more baby hanging on mah titties! *throws confetti* (though there’s actually little for celebration, as i’ve learnt the last time, re: deflated boobs, slower metabolism, etc.)
quite possibly my favourite pic during our short (by our standards) convoy raya visiting this year. courtesy of our in-house ‘art director’ and resident perv.
watch out for that ass! *szzzzzz* (sizzling sound)
too many last minute things cropped up among us this time round – so much for advanced planning. but important thing was getting to meet, catch up, salam-menyalam, peluk-memeluk, maaf-bermaafan (ahem)… and, of course, MAKAN!
“come, adik natra, since you can’t eat the yummy kuihs, i share with you my milk, ok?”
“ok, kakak auni. can’t wait for us to grow big and look silly like our mommies.”
after a morning of inexplicable crying and fussiness, we brought her out for a few visits, and she was distracted enough to momentarily forget why she’d been so irritable.
then something set her off, and she went cantankerous again. PMS much?? :D
we made a discovery the other day, while we were writing down our orders at eighteen chefs.
no, our little boy did not suddenly break into a calligraphy of a shakespeare’s sonnet. no, he did not even manage to list down his own order of cheese fries and hot chocolate.
well, you have to start somewhere. chicken scratches are a start. even though chickens are known to never end up writing great script.
it’s the letter A, yo!
it’s funny coz of all the things we never got around to doing, is to shove a pencil in his hand and force him to churn out the alphabets on demand. so it was something of a surprise for us. i was hoping it’d be something he’d pick up on his own when he’s ready. so apparently, he’d already picked it up in school… somewhat. (coz the letters ‘A’ and ‘I’ are about as far as it goes, lol.)
and another thing we discovered was his ability to draw… stick figures. you know, with a head, eyes, a mouth, limbs. he calls it “alien” though. wth?!
needless to say, i guffawed to no end when i saw his artwork. (i still do.)
his daddy asked why his alien was hypnotised. (refer to googly eyes.)
when i was small, i remember being forced into one of those supplementary art classes in school on saturdays, and we were taught drawing methods in precise shapes to form figures like, say, chickens. you know, e.g. big circle for body, small circle for head, smaller circle for eye, triangle for beak, oval for eggs, etc. it was sooo weird. it was more like a math lesson. where was art, in its freeform style? sky – must be blue. grass – here’s green crayon. sun – yellow, of course. it’s a good way of finding out whether one has colour blindness.
as for my penmanship, that went pretty well. no chicken scratches there. teachers used to write in my report books commending my “neat” handwriting. like how important that turned out to be, in this age of perpetual typing and incessant texting. :p
oh well, if all mummy had WAS a backrub, we wouldn’t have anyone for abang aniq to torment.
and we wouldn’t have anyone else for daddy to dress up like a boy. (yes, this was all his work.)
she’s turning out to be quite a character, and developing quite a sense of humour too. this is the part i like best, where they discover they can purposefully make us laugh, and laugh along with us.
and just as soon as she’s perfected her nodding, she’s gone on to the next phase – head-shaking. which made me laugh the first few times she started doing it, till i realised that encouraging it probably wasn’t the best idea coz now she’ll start to refuse everything we want her to do.
two kids, outside my bathroom, banging down the door, hurrying me to be done with whatever i’m doing already. they can always sniff me out when i’m in there. internal gps, much? but, it’s mummy’s only sanctuary!
and if you can make out the big brother’s silhouette, he’s bending down to relay to his little sister that mummy is not done yet. (he also heard my camera phone in action and asked “why you taking picture?”. i was too busy giggling to explain.)
the blistering heat didn’t deter us from a bit of sizzling good time at the zoo on a public holiday. if we were on a giant grill, we’d have been pretty well done. auni’s toasted button nose and my broiled bare shoulders are your tender juicy evidence.
it was altogether a pretty good day nonetheless, as mentioned. if the children are happy, i’m happy. of course, happiness doesn’t come without a bit of prior warning. warning which sounded like this:
me: aniq, pls promise me two things today. 1) don’t make adik fall or cry. 2) don’t make mummy angry. promise?
aniq: promise.
they were pretty much kept on this particular day. when his sister fell on her own accord, he was quick to jump to his (self-)defence – “not me! not me! HIM!” (no, he’s not placing the blame on an imaginary assailant. he’s just still a little confused with gender-specific pronouns.)
on the boat ride at the zoo, he volunteered to carry around a snake skin for the rest of the passengers to touch and feel. before that, he was asked the two basic questions from the boat guide.
guide: what’s your name?
him (and by him, i mean the above-mentioned boy, as i am perfectly versed in assigning gender-specific pronouns, except with cross-dressers and transvestites, which are a different thing altogether, and i am meandering so far away from the course of my story now): aniq!
guide: how old are you?
him: 3 year old! (pls pardon his flawed application of plurals as well. he is only 3 years old after all.)
anyway, later on, as we were walking out of the zoo, the daddy and i quizzed him again, oh, for the heck of it.
us: what is your name?
him: aniq.
us: how old are you?
him: 3 year old.
us: where do you stay?
him: i stay inside my house.
me: HAHAHAHAHHAHAAAHAHA!
him: (in all seriousness.) *pause* mummy, not funny. not funny.
me: HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
daddy: aniq, next time say ‘tampines’.
him: pampinis.
kidzworld was crazy with kids running amok amidst the sprays and splashes of water, while the adults pretended to tend to the children but were actually secretly enjoying the cool swirls of water on their feet.
the girl made a bee-line to the water jets and never looked back.
sports illustrated – not!
i’ll keep a look out for the now-baby prawn’s smokin’ tan lines. speaking of which, she received at least 2 bikinis on her birthday. tiny, barely legal triangle pieces that would make even britney spears blush. i was tempted to try them on myself… but i digress. in any case, we’ll definitely have to make more trips to the pool, if only to make full use of her entire range of swimwear.
last but not least, thank you hidaya, who’s been a great ambassador to the zoo! :)
i think i remember ayu once said, in one of our crazy discussions on career choices, that she’d like to work at the zoo, even if it’s just to chop vegetables for the animals. looking at the people who actually work at the zoo, i think that might actually be pretty fun. i’d love to be able to talk to an audience like the animal show presenters there, they’re pretty impressive.
fellow zoolanders
ok, it’s almost 3am and my shoulders are tingly. i really should’ve heeded baz luhrmann’s advice and wear sunscreen.
which brings me now to copy and paste that brilliant song of his, which was, technically, not really sung, more like monotonously delivered, but brilliant nonetheless.
The Sunscreen Song
Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of ’97
Wear sunscreen
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be
it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by
scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable
than my own meandering experience… I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh nevermind; you will not
understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded.
But trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself and
recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before
you and how fabulous you really looked…. You’re not as fat as you
imagine.
Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as
effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing
bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that
never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm
on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing everyday that scares you
Sing
Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with
people who are reckless with yours.
Floss
Don’t waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes
you’re behind… the race is long, and in the end, it’s only with
yourself.
Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you
succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch
Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your
life… the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they
wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year
olds I know still don’t.
Get plenty of calcium.
Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.
Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children, maybe
you won’t, maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky
chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary… whatever you do, don’t
congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – your
choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s.
Enjoy your body, use it every way you can… don’t be afraid of it, or what
other people think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own..
Dance… even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.
Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.
Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for
good.
Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the
people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you
should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and
lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you
knew when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live
in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will
philander, you too will get old, and when you do you’ll fantasize
that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were
noble and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund,
maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one
might run out.
Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you’re 40, it will
look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who
supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of
fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the
ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.
record time: ten months and a week. not too bad, i guess. :)
she did wait for me to come back from work before she launched into a full-fledged totter towards me. she didn’t even show off to her oma whom she was with the whole day, so i think she must’ve been reaaally glad to see me at the end of the day. hehe.
meanwhile, glimmers of her personality have begun to shine through. she may look docile, but this is no girly-girl you’re messing with. numerous falls and bumps hardly faze her, and she’s even made bigger boys cry with her fierceness (and no, not aniq, who has been doing pretty well as the relenting big brother). perhaps it’s to do with being a younger sibling of a tough brother, a survival of the fittest, or in her case, survival of the loudest shriek and the strongest hold on a toy or an object, lol. hey, no one taught her, so it’s gotta be instinct. but don’t worry, we’ll work on rehabilitating her.
i have lots of raw video footage of my kids, never really have the time to edit most of them. i was just browsing my uploaded videos and i noticed that there are more videos of aniq than auni!
so to even out the score, i created a new video just for her, with special appearance by her brother of course! enjoy!!
… is what she is. unafraid of falls and bumps, just like her brother.
here’s their latest play activity together – the baby sister pushing her big brother on his toy truck all around the house. yet another form of entertainment for us!
let’s see if she can meet her brother’s milestone of walking at ten months too.
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