I was lurking around some mummies forum in Singapore and I chanced upon this thread, with someone initiating a picnic outing.

Picnic sounds interesting
I love meeting other Stay At Home Mum
Mal can play and I can gossip
What better way to spend the day !

So I went in to find out more …

To my surprise, what started off as a brainstorming session for picnic ideas was soon transformed into a ‘what does your kid do in a typical week’ session.
Very soon, this spiraled into a full blown discussion on enrichment programs for children.
What age did your child start ?
Where did you send your child to ?
Which is better ?
Is this enough ?
…

I found out that for a typical 5 year old girl in Singapore, this is her schedule for a week
- KI - daily
- Kumon - 3 times a week
- Arts - once a week
- Mandarin Speech & Drama - once a week
- Chinese Dance - once a week
- Story time at library - once a week
- Swimming - once a week

Very soon, the person who started the thread on picnic was forgotten
I guess a child has better things to do than to be running around wild in the sweltering heat of sunny Singapore.

So I am curious
How many enrichment programs does your child (age 1-6) attends each week ?

Are you curious too ?

(Note : I set up a nuffnang poll at my sidebar for this and there is no way for me to skip the 3 default questions set up by them. So do bear with them! )

I was busy preparing for the party

my mind racing through my to-do-list

I had forgotten about the flowers.

I could do without the flowers

But it was such a special occasion

and my mum ALWAYS HAVE FLOWERS!

So I send my duo for the mission.

I specifically listed a few options for the bigger one to choose from

As if to empower the smaller one with a bigger responsibility

I turned to him and said

‘Make sure you help to choose the nicest flowers for Daddy, ok? ‘

Half an hour or so later, they came back.

When I saw what they had gotten

My jaw dropped

I was shocked

I stood there in disbelief

I had forgotten to tell them the color !!!

and I wonder if it is just me ?!

It was my first attempt
I fretted over it for nights
but I knew I NEEDED it
as if to help ward off the bad luck and ill fortune
predicted for the Oxen this year

How superstitious can one gets
I know
I laugh too

It all turned out well
though not all was complete
fell short of shrimp crackers
which was really not that critical

I bet you can’t taste a diff
if you go generous with the vital
ground peanuts and toasted sesame seeds
are the trick to it

So
there we had it
our friends adore it
even though it was served
on aluminum wrapped cardboard on styrofoam dish

as if that was not enough
I needed my festive drink
to go with something as auspicious as this

so there I go again
presenting my favourite 8 Treasure Tea

We had a reunion dinner gathering at our place on Chinese New Year’s eve. We dressed up the house to the nines and cooked up a storm. I even had Mal put  on his traditional Chinese outfit to match the festivity mood but somehow I had forgotten about myself. I wanted to put on something  RED.

Every year, I would scorn at my mum’s superstitious beliefs on the DOs and DON’Ts on this day. Now, I realize how much I have taken to her bizarre customs. I can’t believe how much I am behaving like her. I guess I am after all my mother’s daughter.

So of course my mum used to make us wear RED on this big day. But the fact is, my wardrobe is loaded with solemn black and earthy colors of every shades. I have NOTHING  bright and cheerful, much less ching chong RED.

Then I caught a glimpse of red in the remote corner of my closet, something still wrapped in the cellophane bag, something I brought over hoping to give as souvenir.

I couldn’t care less.  I ripped it open and donned it on. I knew that was the closest I could get.

I ended up looking more like a kebaya girl.

I blame it on the phone calls

I blame it on my Mum’s exemplary example

I blame it on my feeble mind

I blame it on Malcolm’s enthusiasm

I succumbed to temptation

I gave in to cravings

….

….

….

and we baked THESE

and THESE

and THESE with sugar sprinkle

Did I say I need to jog ?!

I think I just set myself up !

HAPPY FEASTING !!!

I still remember my first visit to the US at a ripe young age of 21. There was this American party that I went to where I knew almost nobody except a few Singaporeans. Of course I did the Singaporean thing by trying to stick to the Singaporeans but as it always turns out, plans never go according to plans.

So there I was by myself, holding a not so cool non-alcoholic drink in my hands wondering what I should be doing next when this American guy came over to talk to me.

There I was, a Singaporean, a cosmopolitan who studied English as my first language since 6 years old, suddenly finding myself struggling really hard to make myself understood. I could barely keep up a conversation without straining myself.

Yes, my GP wasn’t that good, but surely I can socialize in English ?! We were not discussing the relevance of Socrates or Plato in modern society or anything like that. It was just this American guy trying to pick me up!

It dawned on me that I do not normally speak English.  Yes, it was quite a shocker. After more than a decade in school with English as the main teaching medium, it was shocking for me to realize that I do not normally speak English. I speak Singlish.

Most foreigners cannot understand me when I blabber in Singlish. The British speaks British English, the American speaks American English, and as a Singaporean, I speak Singlish.

Overseas, I may not be able to positively identify my fellow citizens by sight, but I definitely know when I hear one, even on the phone. Foreigners usually classify us as one of them Chinese, which is in a way true, for not too long ago, we were still one big family. However when Chinese from China speak to me, the differences in culture, thought and language are apparent and vast, even though we might speak the same language.

So, who are we if we can’t claim an unique culture, a heritage or even a “language” of our own?

Nowadays, I tell foreigners I meet that English is taught in school as the first language, but the daily spoken language is Singlish.  Then I reassure them that they would be understood in Singapore although it might sound like we are speaking Hindu to them.

Whatever the higher powers may think, Singlish is a powerful, complex and effective medium for social communication.  It is explained rather extensively and expertly on Wikipedia.  Did you know that there are several meanings to the ‘lah‘ that we use everyday without even thinking about it ?  Same goes for the ‘lor’ and the ‘ler’ and seven other discourse particles. The explanation for ‘kena’ is even more impressive.

I think Singlish is the heritage that Singaporeans created from nothing, thus as Singaporeans, we should cherish it.  Why try to nation build artificially when we already have something unique?  Why the need to forge a foreign accent when we already have one?

However I do recognize that we must be able to speak good English when we want to.  And Singaporeans should be aware that there is a difference between English and Singlish so that they can make the switch when necessary.

I am proud to say that Malcolm, a true blue Singaporean, is already a fluent speaker of Singlish.

So what language do you speak ?

And of course, Paris is bathing in a sea of RED, not because anyone bothers about Chinese New Year but because everyone is frenzied over the annual winter sales!

But the fact is, CNY is less than a week away. I could feel the festivity each time I call home.

Mum is busy making kueh kueh,  sis is giving the new old house a new coat of paint, dad is stocking up on new year goodies., the buzz in Chinatown, the over night market…I MISS HOME already !

So as if to get into the groove of things, I decided to spring clean our house.

I scrubbed, I washed, I mopped, going down on all fours. Yes, some part of me still lives in the 70s.

I did the laundry, folded the clothes, hung up new laundry.

Mal helped to fold his clothes, arranged them in his drawers and insisted on doing it HIS WAY.

He was anxious to show me his ‘easier’ way of folding clothes and of course I let him.

Next, he went around wiping tables, chairs and all the visible tops and corners with this little blue cloth.

He climbed onto the table, jumped onto chairs. Ran in the bathroom and out with his watering can for rinsing his own cloth and then happily exclaimed

‘Look Mummy, see how well I can clean!’ He was having so much fun. He absolutely LOVES IT!

By the time my husband reached home, I was totally exhausted. The house was squeaky clean except maybe for Mal’s drawers.

I think we’ve just found the momentum to kick start the Chinese New Year celebration.

We built this when we were in Wengen

For your information, it is really not easy to build a decent looking snowman.

Our snowman was skinny and tall, couldn’t seem to make it ROUND even though we had ALL the snow!

Anyway, he had fun, though he did complain that the pine leaves eye brows looked FUGLY.

I have never been the athletic sort

though many may have the impression so

perhaps due to my somewhat defined calves

which I inherited from my maternal ancestry

to some they are real assets

but I have yet learned to appreciate

Perhaps it was due to my weaker physique

I was never like my 2 little sis

who bagged home medals every year

almost effortlessly I would say

It was not hard for me to conclude

that the ability to excel in sports

is somewhat like my deceiving calves

inherited and genetically so

Somewhere during my working life

I found jogging

and jogging found me

it has since became a roller coaster ride

a love hate relationship that comes a long way

The motivation to jog started off as a vanity sort

flatter tummy, slimmer thighs and toner butt

was soon superceded by the energy boost that came with it

which inevitably made me  came back for more

During the onset of my 2nd trimester

I was diagnosed what once known as the rich man’s illness

somewhat unusual for someone as petite as me

almost all the preggies in my diet class

was doubled of me when it came to size

again it was  like my deceiving calves

inherited and genetically so

Frequent little meals, 6 times a day ?

sounds impossible for a hungry cow

I need frequent meals 6 times a day

not little but BIG

how else can I eat and keep those numbers down

but to turn to jogging once again

Soon later I became a mum

I realized I needed my stamina even more

to cook, to clean and to wash

and to catch up with my little bunny’s bounce

The easiest, cheapest and quickest way

was 1/2 an hour 3 times a week

and jogging helped to cure my woes

Now that my bunny had grown up

In case you may think

after all these years

I must have turned pro

the fact is that

I am never close

Should I ?

Could I ?

Would I ?

There are 1001 reasons to say NO

but just 1 reason to say GO

and nullify the 1001 that came before

bring me to the land of exuberant goodness

that is free for all

A battle fought

A battle won

Till the next battle we’ll meet once more

Note : Believe in and Inspired by CNN Hero - Ann Mahlum’s Back On My Feet

Some think this is pretty (picture from www.huonvalley.tas.gov.au)

Others think this is beauty (Malcolm at 22 weeks old)

Just before we conclude what we perceived as truth, it is interesting to note the following,

‘

The brain, with which you perceive the world, is made up of neurons “buzzing” at 50 cycles a second, while the world as it exists in reality, is made up of electro-magnetic radiation oscillating at 500 trillion cycles a second. This means that the human brain cannot nearly keep up with the ‘realness of reality.’

To compensate, the brain takes a preconceived idea about the object, then uses those preconceived ideas to see whether or not they are there.

The problem with attaining an accurate perception of reality stems from the fact that humans are unable to understand new information, without the inherent bias of their previous knowledge.

The extent of a person’s knowledge creates their reality as much as the truth, because the human mind can only contemplate that which it has been exposed to.’ ~ excerpt from Wikipedia

If such is true, how much are we closer to the truth since ancient philosophers to contemporary thinkers ?

I wonder.

So we are heading back to tropical Singapore in a few months’ time and I am having mixed feeling about our return.

One part of me is happy and excited about the reunion with family and friends and another part of me is fearful about the education system that Malcolm is going to face back home. I am but a  typical Singaporean, born and bred in our oh-so-familiar system. Being overseas kind of give me a breather, to be away from the competition, from the comparison and from the race.  I am glad that I find space to ponder on issues which may seem so obvious but without a  stronger belief that comes from within, it may just be another session of regurgitation from the text which may soon crumple and fall.  I have watched this video, thanks to Pauline, whom I met at a homeschooling workshop back in 2007.  I have read this article Take Your Time, Son and I admire Valerie for her conviction in her belief .

I must say that I have never been very anxious about sending Malcolm to school. For a while, I believe in keeping him by my side for as long as I could for I know when the day comes for him to formerly go school, he will be doing so for the next 10-15 years. I know the luxury of time we spend together will soon be gone.

I enjoy grocery shopping with him, I enjoy having Macdonald’s breakfast on a weekday morning with him, I enjoy having the whole children’s section at Borders to ourselves, I enjoy basking in the sun at East Coast when the whole world is working and in school, I enjoy sharing our favorite cheesecake on the  busy streets of Orchard Road, watching the world goes by. I enjoy his company.

During our return to Singapore in 2007, we decided to put Malcolm in school. Not so much for him to learn his ABCs and 123s but more so that he could socialize with other kids and get a glimpse into school life. So at 3 1/2 year old, Malcolm went to school for the first time. He was excited in the beginning but later resisted when he realized that it was going to be a routine. He was not really crazy over school and I must confess that neither am I.

My distaste stemmed from the fact that the school stresses academic performance even at a tender age.  There were a few incidents that led me to that conclusion which I will not be elaborating. But basically, the school expects a 4 year old to be able to write perfectly without making mistakes. The school offers music, art and phonics enrichment classes in the afternoon and Malcolm was encouraged to join since he was only in school for a mere 3 hours in the morning unlike most of his classmates who were there for the whole day. I declined.

Over a very incidental conversation with the teacher, I realized that parents were expected to teach their kids how to write at home so that they could do so in school. To me, it defeats the purpose of sending the kids to school. Such expectation may be the reason why many parents feel that their children need to be ‘ahead’ in their learning, so that they could catch up with their work in class.

Malcolm’s first stint of Singapore school life lasted for 6 months. Within the 6 months, he brought back numerous homework and I lost count of the number of projects that parents were supposed to do together with the kids. Soon after that, we came over to Paris.

The french schools were a vast difference from schools back home. Rain, shine or snow, the kids play at the playground, not once but twice everyday. Malcolm hardly do any writing in class except his own name. Every week, he will lug back some drawings , yet another aircraft or rocket with unfinished colorings. Crafts and projects were always done in school. He never had to bring back work. He enjoys his lesson in class but because he doesn’t speak their language, he has a tough time making friends at the playground. Each day, we look forward to hearing him tell us that he has fun at the playground.

From my experience, the french schools are centered around free play and crafts while the schools back home focus more on training children to excel academically.

Whether academically inclined or free play and crafts centered. We want Malcolm to face the challenge that awaits him. It is like dealing with the nasty  kids at the playground. It is sad but true that the society that we live in consist of good and bad. Schools may just be a miniature real world for him to learn the skills that he eventually needs.

It struck me that there will never be a perfect education system, no matter where we are.  Society will never be perfect either. This is a fact that we need to accept and thus equip our child with the right values and skills to deal with reality and be happy.  I don’t think the formal education system in Singapore is the best, but neither do I think that it is a failure.  More importantly, I want my child to learn that there is more to life than the rat race or academic excellence.

If you do not know by now

My 4 year old is an aviation enthusiast

HE LOVES PLANES !

If you ever need to get him interested

TALK ABOUT PLANES !

His eyes light up

His ears perk up

Fighter, bomber, passenger, bi, tri

He will go ON and ON

Type, parts, engines and speed

He will blabber NON-STOP

These gravity defying machines

thrill him to no end

If you ever see a boy

doe-eyed, button nosed, dimple cheeked

And wears a tail

Clutching on to an aviation magazine

Not one from the children’s section

Perhaps not even in a language he knows

It may be him

It is funny but we can’t stop him

And the irony of it is

His love for planes didn’t start from his frequent visits to flying squadrons

Nor opportunities to see fighter planes booming above him

He hated their loud noise

Uncles clad in bulky suits

never impressed him

He probably never liked the weird looking green costumes

with zips that could jeopardize their family heirlooms

He was 2 1/2

a lovely friend

a dear auntie

a thoughtful gift

of 2 simple books

Airport and Big Book of Airplanes

was all it took

to fuel his love for flights

and set his dream air borne

Back to the good old days

when play was all you do

and beef rendang, bean sprouts and sunny side up

at the tuckshop during recess time could make you smile all day.

If you are

off the diet plan

love spicy food

desperate for some sinful coconut milk loaded Malay food

doesn’t have a Malay food stand to run to …

YOU”VE GOT TO TRY THIS !

Ingredients :

1 1/2 lb beef cut into 2 inch chunks

4 cups coconut milk

2 stalks lemongrass, slightly crushed

2-3 turmeric leaves

3 tbsp vegetable oil

2 tsp sugar

salt and pepper

Blend :

4-5 tbsp chilli paste

1 1/2 inch fresh ginger, peeled, sliced

1 inch galangal peeled, sliced

1 1/2 inch fresh turmeric root, peeled, sliced

2 tsp coarse salt

Method :

- Season beef with salt and pepper, marinate for at least 30 mins

- Using a mortar & pestle or blender grind galangal, ginger, turmeric root, chilli paste and salt into a spice paste

- Heat wok on high, stir-fry spice paste 2-3 mins, add coconut milk, reduce heat and slowly bring to a gentle boil, stir often.

- Add beef and slow boil for 10 mins

- Add lemongrass stalk, turmeric leaves, sugar and season with salt and pepper

- Reduce heat to low, uncovered, simmer for 1-1 1/2 hours, stir often with a spatula, add a little water if it starts to dry up too quickly

- Add the toasted coconut paste during the last 30 mins of cooking

- when the beef is very tender - the gravy, thickens and oil starts to float on top - remove from heat and discard the lemongrass stalks and turmeric leaves

- Serve with steam rice

Paris, and many parts of Europe, welcomed the new year with freezing cold Arctic weather, temperature plummeting below zero, coating roads and pavements with snow and ice. We were told that Paris hadn’t had this much of snow for a long time. I guess we were ‘lucky’

First day of school for Malcolm began on a good note. He walked to school with falling snow and played throwing snowballs at the playground with his friends.

During lunch, he trotted home with a chunk of snow and insisted on carrying it INTO the house so that he could place it outside our window.

After lunch, he lugged the piece of  snow back to school. He was thrilled that the snow DIDN’T MELT. It’s amazing how a chunk of snow can make him so happy!

I hope this signifies a good start for him in school this term, with him making more friends and speaking more french.

Fingers crossed.

We were bored

I declined his shooting game

which is always

him, the Producer

and him, the Director

Instead,

I ploughed through our box of junk and  snorted

‘ THINK ! What shall we make ?! ‘

…..

‘An Army Tank !’

….

And we ended up with this

Note : The box of Swiss chocolate will go to …..

ANGELINE !!!