On being happy and nail polish

I have zero expectation on what I want my kids to be when they grow up. Well, I may have some expectations, but definitely not the what-you-want-to-be-when-you-grow-up kind. Parents all have this dream for their kids when they are all grown-up. "You will be a doctor". "You will be a football player". That is sooooo 1970s. Even the Ah Pek in me will disagree.

But, having said all that, I do have my set of wants. Like, for instance, I would like them to be moving out of the house and be free. I'm not joking. They can visit but I'd rather not have to share my shoe cabinet with them. 

They will need to study and earn their basic university degree. Here's where the Ah Pek in me re-surfaces. No dropping out nonsense like Bill Gates or Steve Jobs and all. No no. Never. 

After that, they can then pursue whatever the hell they want. As long as they don't come to ask for money because I will have none left by the time this tide blows over. That they stay out of trouble. You can do what you want, just stay out of trouble. 

Underneath all of that, deep down in me, my only wish is to see my kids being happy. Not just when they are young so they can be better learners but, be happy all through their adult lives, their grand-adult lives. I want nothing more than to watch my kids be the person that they are meant to be. 

So, when my 5 year old came to ask me if she could have nail polish on her nails, I was a little lost for words. I know, what's the big deal about them nail polish. What surprised me was she knew what the polishes were called..nail polish. She pleaded. I knew one day it will come. Just didn't think that day will come so soon. It would've been easier to answer her if she wanted a pony; not get her nail polish.

Anyway, I told her she can have it...when she turns 21. Then, she started to huff and grumbled - "kids can have too...not when old". Poor girl doesn't know that everyone wants to be 21 and being 21 is certainly NOT old. I stood my ground. SHe continued to huff and argued her case - "Isabelle is a kid and she has...". I explained that "you're not Isabelle and your nails look great! They do not need to be polished. Of course, she huffed and puffed some more and let out a oooohhhhh...before she got distracted by her sister doing the monkey on the couch and joined her sister on the couch and forgot about the whole nail polish thingy. Or so I think it is forgotten. She hasn't asked for it since. 

I realised then that my wish (of wanting them to be eternally happy) may not necessarily come true because I will be denying them of plenty more things to come. Ice-cream being one of them. I mean, I don't deny them ice-cream completely, but we kind of limit their intake. Now, it's nail polish. What's next? Tattoo..performing in the circus...become a Bursleque dancer....and 1 million other taboos.

Oh! For crying out loud, it's just nail polish!

The Bag Story

Let me just tell you right this moment that it's not a completely long and complicated story. I am not exactly a storyteller. I tell it as it is. And, the story is : I have a bag that is too big!

I have this this overnight-er bag that I love. I bought it when I went holidaying to Australia last year. It's a fantastic overnight-er bag. It does it's job well. Big and you can stuff in lots. But, I may have made the purchase on an impulse. When I saw it, I totally fell in love with it. Plus, the salesperson did a really good job at convincing me how great the bag was. I totally fell for it. SHe probably got a big commission out of it too. No, ok, the bag ain't that expensive but it's goodlooking?

Anyway, I am an impulsive shopper. But I am not a compulsive shopper. I do not need to shop ALL THE TIME. Just that when I do shop, I tend to get carried away. Even when the item cost alot and frivolous, I'd just get it. OK, costing alot for my standard la. I mean, I won't go out on a whim and buy a Ferrari which does cost ALOT (alot x100) and IS frivolous. Just..you know...random reasonable purchasable but a little cost more stuff. The case with said bag.

Besides, I thought the bag will be handy with me bringing all the baby (Mini was a baby then) things to playgroup and where ever. The bag was just the perfect mom-with-baby sized. Anything to just keep pushing the 'green' button.

WHen I came back, I found that it was a little too huge for a diaper bag. After getting all the baby stuff in, I still had room to shove the microwave in there if I wanted to. Sure, it will be good especially when I am out but honestly, will I have the strength to cart everything from China to Thailand? No.

So, the bag has been in the closet since. I also bought another more reasonable sized mommy bag after.

Now that Mini is no longer a baby and I usually have close to nothing in my bag except for a spare diaper, small packet of wet wipes and 1 set of spare change of clothes. That's all. Oh, and possibly a sanitizer. If she remembers, a random book. Plus, I don't go out that often. See my dilemma?

A mom with a bag issue. Surely there must be bigger issues like http://www.arvixe.com for reseller hosting to talk about. But, no, the only issue here is one that deals with my bag. I still love it, don't get me wrong. Just, need to find other ways to continue loving it that's all. 

Synchronized Swimming

My latest Olympics crave : Synchronized Swimming. I think that this sport is one (if not, the hardest) of the hardest sport to perform. I mean, the rules itself can kill you. You have to "dance" in the water, often times upside down. Your legs cannot touch the pool floor. You have to have to make the routine look flawless and effortless. In other words, even if you're tired, you cannot hold your legs. You have to open your eyes while under water without goggles. You need to have perfect coordination with your partner. I mean, the list goes on. It's no wonder there are NO men in this competition. YOu have men gymnasts but you don't have men doing synchronized swimming. 

I marvel at these girls. How do you even catch your breath with the mere seconds that you are actually allowed to stay above water? Besides, it's not as though you can catch your breath, take a break and all. YOu have to catch your breath while performing some ridiculous stunt like you see above. And what about those who remain under to propel those to the top? They will obviously have miss this chance to get some much needed oxygen into their lungs because the next step cues fairly quickly. 

So excited I am watching the event that I will pretend that I am a synchronized swimmer doing my routine. I lie flat on my couch, facing upwards. Then, I will hoist my butt up and try to mimic some synchronize moves with my legs. I try. Each time I do it, hubby looks at me like I'm some mental patient from the asylum. He probably thinks of sending me back there someday soon..

Anyway, tonight is the team event. My top 3 teams are the Russians, Spaniards and the Chinese. Technically the Chinese are pretty good; they just need to work on the artistic side cos they look very kaku and no inspiring moves (hahah..like I know!). But, wait...the artistic one is tonight. SO we shall see. But, if I may make a prediction : the Russians will win the gold hands down....yet again. They are simply too good!

My wish now is for the men to have a go at this event. Come on men! Show us some legs! heheh :-D.

The yearly check-up

I dread the time of the year. The pap smear is not my favourite term...ever. It's geli la. Hey, what am I talking about when I gave birth to 2 kids....naturally some more. hahha...gloat or just plain stewpig? 

When I think about people giving birth, the hospital, the medical carts..when I think about MY giving birth...my doc in space suit and construction helmet, the midwives, the nurses, the very cold room. And, oh the pain..the excruciating unbelievable wanting to poo-like/menstrual cramps (x100 times) pain. I don't know how I did it but I did. When you have to push, you just push the buggar out! 

My ObGy is an in-house hospital  doc so he doesn't have a clinic or shop elsewhere. To see him, I have to go to the hospital. Get my number, wait with other pregnant ladies. If he has to go up to the maternity ward mid-way, the wait will just stretch for another hour or so. If he's at the operation room, the wait could mean forever. Oh the waiting. It's the wait that gets to me. 

Oh well..one must do what one should do.