Eavesdropping Spud

On this one rare occasion, we allowed Spud to eat her small cup of chocolate ice-cream as she sat at the back of the car, in the comfort and safety of her car seat, while the car was still in motion.

As Spud was happily eating away , thrilled that she had the ice-cream all to herself while ignoring her little brother’s little whines as he  gave her his deathly stare and eyeing her treat rather unhappily, we suddenly heard this:

“Papa. Why you do that? How will I eat?”

I have been busy yakking with Silver Bullet until then and had missed that little commotion. Boy! The little lady sounded annoyed.As it turned out, Silver Bullet had hit a bump on the road. And so, because of the bump, she had been unable to spoon the ice-cream into her mouth properly!

We laughed, Silver Bullet apologized , told her he’d be careful and went on our merry way. We shook our heads and grinned our little grins; still can’t quite believe the words that were uttered and the tone that came with it.

What a kid.

There were no more bumpy encounters and she finished her ice-cream in no time at all; of course complete with a little mess on her face and shirt. She then fell asleep soon after giving me her empty ice-cream cup. And just like we had expected, the cheeky monkey woke up from her nap screaming her head off.

I don't think we expected anything less!

Spud's 3rd Birthday Bash

If Spud have had the privilege of her paternal grandparents visiting AND throwing her a small party when she turned two last year, this year, Spud has been blessed once again with a home-made birthday cake, complete with hand-piped frosting from her maternal grandmother when we were in Singapore over Hari Raya for a short visit last week.

Imagine that! A three-year old getting a slab of my Mom’s priced family recipe, time-intensive, no-egg yolk-no butter, steamed-for-4 hours- Rainbow Cake  and one of my favourite Hari Raya healthier- alternative cakes, is a treat I don’t even get for my own birthday. (I need to get the recipe!)

What an awesome treat that was!

While Spud didn’t want to blow out the candles and preferring to lick the bottom of the candles instead, she could not wait to cut the cake and sink her teeth into the multi-coloured slab before opening her present from us.

Spud's a lucky little girl  – that was her 2^nd birthday cake in a span of 3 days (the first was an advance joint birthday party celebration with one of her younger friends) with the promise of a 3^rd this coming weekend with her playmates "if she behaves".

Spud licking the frost off the candle

Spud cutting her cake as her Nya-i looked on

"Present! Is it a Cheshire cat?", she asked

Spud and Mr. Cheshire

She then spent the rest of the evening not only playing with her new Cheshire cat, but also chasing my Mom’s British Short-hair around the house as she attempted to smother the poor feline with hugs and kisses. I bet Coco the Cat feels utterly relieved now that  he is no longer victimised by 2 strange kids in his home.  

Spud cuddling Coco the Cat

Squirt wanted his fair-share of cat, too and Coco the Cat was not too amused!

 

Spud turns THREE

[Warning: A very lengthy post]

Dear Spud,

I hate to have to break this to you, but, you see, as our first born, you have been our little experiment. You have to understand that your Papa and I are both rookies at this parenting thing. We don’t always know what we are doing, we are more likely to be wrong in more ways than one, yet insist that we are (mostly) right and with you, we are always, always, always on a steep learning curve.

It feels like it was only a month ago that we celebrated your second birthday. And suddenly, just like that, you turned THREE right before our eyes. It hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbow all these 3 years (you made sure of that with your big personality), but despite us being such novice at parenting, we believe that we haven’t screwed up too bad so far.

We marvel at how much you have blossomed into this social butterfly and well-adjusted little tot who is just curious about the world. You have endless supply of energy and I get exhausted just watching you bouncing off the walls. Being quiet and meek are never your strongest points. You are boisterous to the point of being clumsy at times - falling over, getting cuts and bruises all over the place just because you weren’t looking while walking or running.  With the bruises you earned yourself sometimes, I do wonder if there may be people out there who thought that your mother may have been smacking you way too much!

Because you are so quick at grasping things and seem more mature than you are for your age, I sometimes forget that you are barely three years old. Just about a month ago, you surprised us by rattling off your Papa’s phone number while we were at the cashier as we were paying for groceries - all 10 digits of ‘em! You have always demonstrated to us that you have an incredible memory and this recent incident completely blew us away. You were so happy that you got it right and you repeated it effortlessly. We will not be showing you how to dial those numbers on the phone just yet or you’ll be wanting to call Papa every 2 minutes. Since then, I've been rattling off my phone number to you every now and then, as I do think that it is only fair you know your Mama's phone number too, just in case. And, within a week or so, you surprised us again with your incredible memory!

Like your Papa, you have turned out to be quite the chatterbox. You talk about everything and nothing, and you say what is on your mind with ease. Sometimes you get frustrated if you cannot articulate it, but you keep on trying (although not without temper tantrums). You repeat what you hear so often these days, and more than ever, we realised that we have to be very careful of the words which come out from our mouths.   

You are into the princess phase for several months now (a phase which I find to be extremely annoying) and telling everyone you pass by, whether they know you or not, that you are a princess. I smile my wry smile (and secretly roll my eyeballs) every time somebody eggs you on it, and each time I reminded you that you are not, you again insisted that you are. I guess you can keep working on that. I can only hope that you get out of this phase soon because I am so done with this princess crap.

But then again, I realise this is not about me. This is you trying to create your own identity and find your ways about the world. I need to respect that, understand that you are going through a phase and in fact, I should fuel your creative imagination. I promise you I am all for it… as long as you stay away from all those princessy, girly crap which I equate to being unnecessarily high-maintenance. OK, OK. I will bite the bullet for as long as it takes, but sorry, but your Mama has got her quirks,too.

These days, you are very quick to “appease” us with your ready answer of “Already” every time we ask you to brush your teeth or  put on your dress to name a few. Clearly, you haven’t quite figure out yet that your mother is actually able to see if you have put on that piece of clothing you said you already put on. But that’s OK, you are only 3. You will eventually be able to figure out that your Mama can actually see through you soon enough.

You love singing and not a day goes by without you belting out a song or two every 5 minutes. Whenever we are in the car, you would say, “I don’t know how to sing”, every time the music came on the stereo.  You sound annoyed because you cannot sing along. There have been moments when your Papa realised that he’d have to skip certain songs because the lyrics were just not meant for kids in the backseat. But be patient, my child. Very soon, you’ll probably be belting to Green Day, Pearl Jam, Pink Floyd and the likes of those classics!

Darling Spud, I know that I have never been your most favourite person. You rejecting me when you were 10 months old for over a year was a very tough pill for me to swallow.  I keep asking myself what I have done so wrong that made you repel away from me.  I want to go into that little head of yours and find the very source to understand what I can do better to make it right. Every morning I wake up hoping that you would come to me first, but that’s like asking for a cow to produce chocolate milk au natural. You would be upset if you don’t see your Papa but would think of nothing if you don’t see me. Sometimes I just want to disappear, feeling unworthy to be a mother, especially when you blatantly refuse to allow me to even hold you, let alone touch you, when you crawl into our bed. When you fell or hurt yourself, you refused to come to me for comfort even when I was sitting right next to you. Instead, you went berserk if I tried to comfort you and you would run away as you search for your Papa, even though he wasn't in plain sight. While I try my best to keep my cool and telling myself that it was nothing personal, I can’t help but feel hurt every time you push me away. People tell me that I could only smother you with love, kindness and to never give up, and I tell them I’m trying so darn hard. Every.damn.single.time. It’s always easy for other people to make comments about what I should or shouldn’t do when rejection happens because they are not the ones dealing with you day-in, day-out…but sometimes Little Spud, it would help if you cut me some slack.

We have come a long way where this rejecting crap is concerned and I believe that both of us are healing in our own little ways. You have actually been quite sweet to me and I thank you for that. Your rejections, if any, have not been as violent, and while there are some pockets of resistance every now and then, I hope these rejections will desist for I am so bloody sick of being rejected and feeling like the “lesser” parent all the time. You are my child, I am your MOTHER and nothing can change that. If you don’t like me, then bloody tough luck – go find another Mummy who would take in all your crap, cook your favourite meals, clothe you and love you all the same the next day!

Now THAT is out of the way….

I know being 3 is tough, Little One (guess what! It ain’t gonna get easier...), and you being Spud would want everything done your way if given a chance. But we know you cannot always have that, and sometimes like us, you would have to suck it up. The last one week had been particularly trying as you upped your ante with your over-the top tantrums that appeared to have come from nowhere. So ridiculous those tantrums were that at one point, I just wanted to burst out laughing because I thought your screaming were just too ridiculous to entertain. You drove your Papa up the wall and tested his patience real good.

Meanwhile, know that I am trying my darnest and as a mother who is on a permanent apprenticeship, I sometimes falter as a parent. I am sure you sometimes cannot understand why I scream at you when you push my buttons. To be honest, I don’t get it either and I blame it on a few screws missing in my head.

I remember that one time I almost, almost, almost hit you with a plastic tail-tub because you made me so, so mad while I was showering you as you were engulfed in one of your epic temper tantrums.  I swear that scared the living daylights out of me!  I then diverted my anger by slamming the tail-tub full-force on the floor…the force was so hard that my hand hurt for a few hours. You cowered away as you wailed, probably frightened at how I reacted. The moment I regained my composure and realised what could have happened had I not been able to control myself, I broke down and drew you close to me. I felt horrible. I realised how much I love you and that I would never want to hurt you in any way. I later apologized to you for my unreasonable behaviour and I am ever so glad that you can be ever so forgiving.

You have taught me so much, my darlin' child. In the last 3 years, our life together is anything but boring. You taught me the virtue of a little bit more patience when I thought I had none left. You taught me that losing my head in a screaming fit isn’t cool because apart from stressing myself out, I achieve nothing from it. You taught me empathy when I thought that I am just an emotional fuckwit and most importantly, you taught me the importance of forgiveness when I thought that I have ruined it all and you let me try again so I can be a better parent.

We don’t know how you will change or who you will eventually become. And till then, we’ll just have to wing it. I want you to have the bestest childhood you could ever have and milk that childhood for what it’s worth. I want you to play till you collapse, sing till your throat is sore, dance like there is no tomorrow, get and give hugs and kisses like your life depends on them and never ever let the pressures of society define who you are. You are learning, and as long as we have blood running through our veins and our hearts are still beating, we will learn and we will soar.

You still have to go to bed by 6.30 pm though.

Happy Birthday, dearest Spud. The best years have yet to come.

Fun in the office

1 small bull-dog clip, 1 paper-clip, a bunch of multi-coloured markers and sticking 2 blunt pencils into holes on a plastic chair with a broken back made for a very fun day in the office from an almost 3-year old toddler's perspective...

 

...top that up with a little cam-whoring to inject a little bit of fun and excitement to entertain life's simple pleasures of being a kid is just priceless.

While I'm glad I won't have to drag Spud to the office any more since Summer school is over, I will miss this little tête-à-tête we have been having in the last 3 weeks. It is not out of the ordinary, but it has been special.

Dinosaurs

It’s the Summer break at this time of the year. With that, Spud has been enrolled in a Summer School which doesn’t start till 9 am while I usually start my day at the office by 8.15 am after the usual dropping Spud off at school.

As it was too early to be dropping her off, I have been taking Spud to the office with me first. (I tried on the first day – we got to her school before 8 and there wasn’t a soul around till after 8.30 am!)

I think Spud loves her morning with me at the office. She sits at my big desk (it's not big-big, but big enough for a tot her size!), she enjoys pulling the little chair to sit right next to me when I set up for the morning and she gets to play with all of my stationery. She hummed a tune, ate my leftover snacks I left on the table, made sure she used each and every one of the various coloured pens and markers I owned, and then scribbled and drew on recycled paper I provided her.

On her very first day at my office, she produced a piece of art which she proclaimed to be drawing of Dinasours. She was very proud of it, and she was all smiles and laughs when she told me what she was doing.

Spud's "Dinosaurs"

No one is usually around in the office at the time we are in, and on one of the days, I wanted to show Spud the wonder of paper shredder and photocopying machine. Big mistake - she hated the sound of them, thought that they were big and scary and noisy and refused to go anywhere near them!

Instead, she retreated back to my desk and was happy again to be able to scribble, drink her 20 baht orange juice which I got her from the street, ate my snacks and helped herself to my colourful pens and markers.

I really love a child’s imagination and its simplicity.

Eavesdropping Spud

The comments in Spud’s daily journal written by her Homeroom teacher the other day left me scratching my head. The last sentence left me a little confused, and I thought I should speak to her teacher to understand what had really happened when I dropped her off the next day. I did not see any cuts or bruises on Spud when I tucked her in bed that evening.

I think her Homeroom teacher had the same plan, for when I got to the school, her teacher was ready to explain to me what had happened.  She explained that Spud was sitting all by herself in the classroom while waiting for the school bus. All of a sudden, she fell off the bench (or chair) that she was sitting on and hit head on the corner of a cupboard nearby. Being the clutz that Spud usually is, I am not surprised and I told the teacher so. And this is where it got interesting.

The story told by her teacher went like this:

Right after she fell off and hit herself, Spud had apparently gotten very upset. She cried quite hard, and as her teacher attended to her, Spud was wailing her guts out with a, “I fell down like Humpty Dumpteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

Oh boy. How I guffawed! Spud who was standing next to me while her Homeroom teacher was relating the story started laughing as well. With a big, cheeky grin on her face, she then promptly repeated that she “had fallen like Humpty Dumpty yesterday”. Still laughing away, I then teased her if she could be put back together again; to which she promptly replied with a yes.

Laughing as heartily as I was, her teacher then said that they sing the Humpty Dumpty song every day, and Spud always enjoys the singing and dancing session. It then occurred to me that perhaps, just perhaps, Spud must have played the whole Humpty Dumpty song in her head (action and all) as she was sitting idly on the bench while pretending to be Humpty Dumpty.

Of course, that was only my theory, but it is exactly stories like that makes my day. If only I can see what actually goes on in that pretty, toddler head of her!

Fearless Spud

It was my turn in the pool for a Sunday make-up swimming class and I remember the moment clearly. 

After asking Spud if she wanted to dive in to pick up the toy at the bottom of the pool a shot, while fully expecting her to say “No,”, Spud surprised me by giving me a nod. She then stood with her knees on the edge, confidently raised both hands to the front of her head, made a dive and as I gently gave her a little push downwards, she eased herself to the bottom of the pool, picked up a sunken toy, swam back-up and gave me her biggest smile ever. 

She was beyond proud of herself – the sparkle in her eyes and her contagious grins right after she bobbed out of the water convinced me so.

And I was beaming with joy. 

I was smiling and laughing and telling her how cool that was and that she has done it! I didn’t have to ask, for as soon as she realised how fun that was for her, she wanted to do it again on her own accord.

And again.

And again.

And again.

She must have done it no less than 5x continuously. She was fearless.

She loved diving in to fetch the toy at the bottom of the pool so much that she created a small ruckus when her session was up. She really did not want to go (and I wasn’t beaming with joy so much at that!)

Coaxing Spud to give it a go like that has never been easy. In fact, it has taken us months of periodic coaxing to convince her to pick up a toy at the bottom of the pool whenever we take her to her swimming class every weekend.  

Her answer has always been a standard “No,” and even if the toys were placed on one of the shallower steps in which she would be required to do a small dunking in, she had, for quite a while, refused to negotiate herself into it; sometimes preferring to pick it up with her feet instead (!).

And then suddenly, just like that, Spud decided that she was going to swim to the bottom of the pool after months of refusing to even bother with it.

I guess this was just a classic case of she’s ready when she’s ready.

The most amazing thing for me really is the fact that she is doing things that I don’t (or can’t) even do and she does it at so much ease. When she had made up her mind, there was no moment of hesitation and whatever doubts she had months ago had probably dissipated because she felt safe and she KNOWS she is safe.  

It is an incredible feeling to witness that first hand. And, even though this happened more than a week ago, I still beam with joy just thinking about it.

Me proud.proud.proud.

That's Spud floating on the surface while trying to get to the bottom

Being Spud

When Silver Bullet decided to keep his precious guitars out of Squirt’s curious hands - little hands that kept plucking the strings, retuning his guitars and turning the knobs unnecessarily -  Spud did not waste too much time and was quick to claim the vacant spot as her own...

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Talk about being opportunistic!  

Needless to say, when Silver Bullet placed his (now covered) guitars back to where they belonged, she wasn’t too happy about it. In fact, she whined and whined and insisted that HER guitar be placed back at the guitar stand. She was not going to have her way; her Papa made sure of that.

I watched the entire episode unfolded with a cheeky grin plastered on my face. I thought the whole thing was hilarious. Cute, even.  

His two precious instruments are now placed in their rightful spots.

 

Somehow, the colourful plastic guitar did look endearing when placed over there. It sorts of brighten up the room too, don't you think? :)

Eavesdropping Spud

Spud loves a little bit of a chatter whist having her meals, and being the natural chatterbox that she is, she takes every single opportunity to yak. That usually means, talking with her mouth full – even if she would be talking to herself. And at which point, we would tell her that she should not be doing that because it is impolite.

With her Papa sitting next to her and feeding her one evening, Spud did what she usually does while eating – talking with her mouth full. Even though I was sitting at the same table, I was busy with Squirt and was oblivious to the entire conversation. It was only later that Silver Bullet repeated the following conversation to me:

Silver Bullet: Don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s impolite.

Just when Silver Bullet was about to give her another bite, the little imp said, in Dutch,  “Nee nog niet. Ik wil eerst praten!”

Translation?

“Not yet. Want to talk first!”

I could only laugh my head off in amusement. The little imp is catching on fast!

And here's a moment with her Oma from our last visit. Come to think of it, "loves a little bit of a chatter" is an understatement. Actually, Spud, like her father, is quite the chatterbox and the only time she is quiet is when she is sleeping.  

Eavesdropping Spud

Spud has, in the recent months, picked up a very annoying habit of sounding like a spoilt brat who is just barking orders and being demandingly rude whenever she asks us for something that she wants. She would literally go, “Give me this”, “Give me that”, while putting out her hand, and in a tone that we don’t really appreciate.

I am not so sure where she might have picked that from, but since we heard her saying that, we have been trying to get her to ask for things nicely with  a “Can I…please..Mama/Papa/whoever” or a“ May I..please…Mama/Papa/whoever” rather than just “barking orders”. Whenever she slips up, we tell her that saying "Give me" when asking for things is not polite. We will then encourage her to repeat herself nicely for us to accommodate her wants. She would then willingly correct herself.

When I came back home from work one evening, Spud came to me and went, “Mama, Mama! Nanny says “Give me”. Nanny says “Give me. Not polite”"

While a part of me was trying to make sense of what she said into context, a part of me wondered if the Nanny has been telling her the same thing as we did, or if Spud was, in fact, telling on the Nanny ! When I acknowledged Spud, she then rattled on with a, “Give me pleeeeaaasssee. Say thank you.” (The emphasis was on the word please, and it felt like I was hearing myself!) 

I then verified with our Nanny and it turned out that the Nanny confessed to saying “Give me” whenever she asks Spud for things. I reckon, it is not something the Nanny does consciously but that day, the Nanny said that Spud had “scolded” her and told her exactly what we told Spud: That “give me is not polite” and to  please say, “can I have it please…!”

We both had a good chuckle and I suggested to her that we should refrain from saying “give me” from then on whenever we want something from her, and that we need to teach Spud to be a little bit more polite with the words that are coming out of her mouth.

Never, ever underestimate the honesty of a child.

I feel like a very  proud Mom - and I believe we taught her well. I am, indeed super pleased. :)

Eavesdropping Spud

Spud was due for another vaccination some time last month, and after the deed (which she cried really hard the moment the poke her with the needle), I thought I’d indulge her with us having dinner outside before we came home.

It was nothing fancy – I took her to a food court at the hospital, and for Spud, that in itself is a novelty as it eating out seemed like a treat as opposed to eating at home. Barely 5 minutes into her meal, she then decided that she had to go to the bathroom for a pee. I was a little surprised, given that she had already gone to the bathroom before we sat down at the food court - which was barely 5 minutes ago!

I couldn’t say no. With the toilet being quite a distance away, and given that there were only the two of us, there was no way we could leave our stuff (along with newly bought, almost untouched food) on the table to head out to the bathroom.

I didn’t want the cleaner to clean our table, and I was lucky to be able to inform one of the cleaners not to clean our table just yet before I rushed Spud to the toilet. To Spud’s credit, she peed.

We then walked back to the food court to finish off her meal. Barely another 5 minutes passed since we claimed our spot at the food court again , Spud announced that she very badly needed to poo. I asked if she could wait, but that was merely a rhetorical question.  Arrgggh!!!

Again, I couldn’t say no – but it was inconvenient to say the least. We had to leave her food twice in a span of 10 minutes! When she finally sat on the toilet, not 5 seconds had passed and Spud looked at me with her dopey eye and went, "Poo not coming anymore. Poo went back inside.”

This was the part when I wanted to bang my head against the toilet door. I couldn’t get angry, and couldn’t decide whether to laugh or to cry.

I choked a chuckle. I then hung my head in defeat…what’s a mother supposed to even say to that?! 

The ice-cream monster

Born to a chocoholic mother who also happens to find a lot of contentment from a bowl of good, creamy ice-cream, it is not a big surprise that Spud is now slowly gravitating to liking such treats.

In fact, she has been showing a lot of interest towards both chocolates AND ice-cream, and asking for them quite often. (I have stash of M&Ms, and these days, I have to hide my M&Ms from her and make sure that she doesn’t see them!)

She does get such treats every once in a while – usually for good conduct or for eating her meals- and only in small quantities. There was however, one fine day when I took her out, bought her an ice-cream , thought “what the hell!” and gave her the autonomy to hold the ice-cream cone, which resulted in her polishing off ALMOST the entire one scoop of ice-cream in a cone all by herself!

You should have seen the light in her eyes - she absolutely loved the experience, and since then she would not want anyone to hold her ice-cream for her. In fact, when she knows there is an ice-cream for her, she would tell me, “No. not for Mama. Only Spud.” Such a cheeky little monkey!

While she loves the colour pink and would occasionally asked for “the pink one”, she changes her mind when we let her taste it because they tend to be the berry-flavoured ice-cream (raspberry) and are usually quite sour .

Her favourite ice-cream, so far? It has got to be the blue or the green coloured ice-cream. And that’s usually mint and chocolate chip ice-cream for you; a flavor I was surprised that a little tot like her would like. But I can’t complain, mint and chocolate chip ice-cream is my favourite flavor too.

I guess it would only be a matter of time before Spud would refuse to share her ice cream with me.

Eavesdropping Spud

Spud has recently gotten into the habit of asking people around her if they are OK. Several times in a row. They usually tend to come out of nowhere, and a typical conversation would go like this:

While having a meal:

Spud: Are you ok, Mama?

Me: Yes, I am ok. Are you OK?

Spud: Yes.

And a few minutes and several times later,

Spud : Are you ok, Mama?

Me: No, but I’ll be if you start putting the spoon in your mouth and eat your meal! Or, yes, I’ll do much better if you start listening to me more or No, I’ll be happy and dandy if you stop taking your brother’s toys away from him while he is still fiddling with it!

You get the idea.

And so one morning, this conversation happened while I was walking Spud to school

Spud: Are you OK, Mama?

With a wry smile, I replied: Hmm..not really Spud. I feel quite sad today. (I had a bad day at work the day before and it was eating me up. Not that Spud knew any better, but as soon as I said it, I thought that perhaps, it was not something I should have "imposed" on a little child) 

Spud: No, no sad, Mama.

I then squeezed her hand and gave her a smile and said I’m OK. She then went, “You need to go to the doctor!”

I had to laugh real hard. Bless the ignorance and innocence of a young child.

Eavesdropping Spud

While we were driving to the kids’ swimming class on our usual Saturday morning, we heard Spud chiding her little brother from the backseat.

Spud (in a somewhat stern voice): No, Squirt. NO swimming for you today.

Both me and Silver Bullet looked at each other;we both had a really puzzled look on our face, not quite understanding what it was all about. I then turned my head and gently interjected with a, “Why, Spud? Why can’t Squirt go swimming?”

Spud: Squirt throw the toy. Toy on the floor.

Looking down on the floor, I realised that Squirt has indeed threw all of his toys on the floor of the car.

We can’t help but burst into laughter. Spud was just mimicking us – after all, we tend to always warn her of the privileges she’s going to lose if she continues to throw her things for no reason in the midst of her temper tantrums.

In this case, it was a little difficult to explain to her that Squirt was just doing it because that’s what a 9 month old baby does…

And here's a shot of our two little monkeys at the back of the car. Sometimes we hear the both of them laughing and cackling, mostly with each other. We would have no idea what was so funny, but apparently these two kids can already entertain each other.

At least there has been no fights. Well..not yet.

Superhero Day

When we received yet another letter from school to please allow Spud to come to school – this time, in a superhero costume for their Superhero theme activity, I had to scratch my head.

Firstly, superhero characters are mainly for boys. Secondly, a girl super heroine is either tacky or just too girly. Hell! I cannot even think of a girl superheroine without having Wonder Woman, Cat Woman or Power Puff Girls coming to mind! Big nay. Thirdly, I don’t even know any other Superheroes besides the usual Superman, Spiderman, Batman (Does Wolverine count??) and just where do I get such costume at such a short notice?

Sharing my sentiments with one of my colleagues, he offered his suggestion that I could make a costume for Spud. He suggested that I could use a small blanket as a cape (nice thought!), make her makeshift armour for her arms out of cardboard boxes and then do a simple logo to be pasted on her chest. He then added another sentence that had me burst out into laughter - make her wear her underwear on the outside.

I could deal with the makeshift arm armour and silly logo and all, but for the life of me, I cannot, cannot make my child go to school with her wearing her underwear on the outside.

Although I admit to entertaining the suggestion in my head for a little bit and thought that it was quite funny, I felt like it was quite a cruel thing to do. Not only would I be making my little girl wear her underwear on the outside if I ever choose to do it, but she would also have to wear that while walking to school! While the thought made me chuckle at the hilarity of it all, the image had me shaking my head at the same time.

Bless my colleague – the idea was quite original, but the thought of letting my daughter wear her undies on the outside in the name of being a superhero is just not done.  I don't think I could bring myself to subject my little child to such an embarrassment at such a young age. 

I opted to hunt for a superhero T-shirt at one of the make shift tent- market near my office and found this...

This Spiderman outfit came with a web-looking thing that looks like a pair of wings. It only cost me 50 baht - and she does not have to wear her underwear outside of her pants.

Spud's prediction

“It’s going to rain, Mama!”  Spud exclaimed while looking up to the sky as we walked out of the apartment building.

I looked up and while I thought that the morning was not as bright as the previous days, it wasn’t as dark either. There were no dark clouds and there was no wind; and it did not appear like it was going to rain anytime soon. In fact, it was way too bloody hot to even expect a drop of rain.

But I replied with a, “Really? You think it’s going to rain?”

And to that, Spud replied with a confident, “Yes!” .  To which I replied, “I’m not so sure – I don’t think so though, it is way too hot for rain. Quite unlikely, I think.”

We then walked on, and halfway to her school, Spud decided that she has had enough of walking and wanted me to carry her.  The weather today was extremely humid, and by the time I dropped her off in school, I was perspiring like crazy!

Already almost drenched in my own perspiration, I continued walking to my office. And just about halfway there, the rain came pouring down without any warning. Big, giant droplets of rain, too! I was walking in a wide open space with no access to any nearby shelter.  I had no brolly and I had nowhere to run and hide.

As I let out my biggest sigh, I quickened my pace and resigned myself to getting wet from a flash-rain that came from nowhere.

There then came a realization: Spud has been right about the rain after all – and, I should have probably listened to her!

The rain pretty much stopped the moment I stepped into my office building. Figures.

Eavesdropping Spud

So there is a saying that goes, " Scars remind us of where we have been" and looking at a still visible 3.5-inch scar on my leg from a cat scratch, I was being reminded of yet another of Spud's antic that I thought is worth a post:

“You OK, Mama? Oh, oh..oh no. It’s scratch. It’s itchy,” says she as she examined a fresh gash accidentally left behind by Fudge on my leg. Then she went, “It’s ok, mama. It’s ok. Only a scratch,” and tried to kiss it.

After which, she went to Fudge and went, “Fudge, why you scratch Mama. Mama itchy. Why you scratch, Fudge?”  and she went on and on and on, cornering the poor little feline into one of the shelves.

Isn't that the sweetest thing, or what!

Related post(s):
Eavesdropping Spud I
Eavesdropping Spud II

Spud's first hand-painting

More than 2.5 weeks post Valentine's Day - a day which our family don't hype too much about - I stumbled upon this painting in one of our cupboards while I was searching for other things:

OK, I'm biased, but isn't that just the cutest thing!

I then took it out of the cupboard and showed it to Silver Bullet - funny that neither of us had seen that before - and as I beamed away, we thanked Spud for making us such an interesting card. I then asked her about it, and she gleefully took it from me and showed me how she did it.

She then immediately dropped the card on the floor and went on her hands and feet, just to demonstrate to me how she had done it while trying to verbally explain to me what she had done.. It may have been more than 2 weeks, but her memory is pretty amazing!

It didn't not take her too long to explain to me that the red patches were ink prints from her hands, and the green "stems" were done using her feet.

We may not be the biggest advocate of celebrating Valentine's Day just because it is so commercial, but this is one of those V-Day cards that is worth a post.

Not to mention that this would be one of those first paintings worthy of a frame on its own.

Thank you, Spud. We love you too.

Eavesdropping Spud

More of Spud's blabbers:

“Sit over here for 2 minutes ok. Stop crying,” says she to her bear, or her little fisher price doggie in a stern voice as she walked away from them during her pretend play session; mimicking our time-out for her whenever she misbehaves badly.

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“Are you happy, Papa?” says she to her father while in the backseat of the car right - a moment after Silver Bullet unleashed his wrath  at some motorist cutting him off while he was behind his wheels to drop her to school.

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 Just a few more of her antics which continue to amuse me!

Related post:
Eavesdropping Spud

The one with caffeine overdose

"Caffeine can be unhealthy for kids. It can cause them to lose sleep, worsen anxiety and raise blood pressure”

Source: my healthnewsdaily

And everyone knows that giving coffee to a little child, especially one that is barely 3 years old is a complete no-no…

…or is it?

OK. The thing was – towards the end of our Sunday brunch last week with the family, I decided to order a chocolate milkshake for both Spud and me to share. Spud loves milkshake, and every once in a while, she gets to enjoy the occasional milk shakes (and sometimes a few M&Ms and ice-cream) as a treat.

The moment the beverage arrived at our table, Spud pretty much polished off at least ¾ of the milkshake there was, in a rather decent sized glass. I had a little sip of the milkshake when she ventured away from our table and had immediately thought that it tasted a little “off”. By “off”,  I thought it tasted more like coffee. Thinking I could be wrong, I even asked Silver Bullet to taste it but he verified that it wasn’t. In fact, he convinced me that it could just be “chocolate chips”.

When the bill came, I almost jumped off my chair when I saw “COFFEE Milkshake” being printed on there – confirming that my gut about the beverage not being anywhere near chocolate as I ordered was right. I was already annoyed with our whole Sunday breakfast experience at the restaurant, and so, seeing things I hadn’t need to see on the bill tipped me off the edge.

I was appalled. In fact, I was livid.

“Chocolate chips” my foot!  I was convinced that those bits were actually hardcore crushed coffee beans and nowhere near any chocolate chips. So I asked for their manager and I complained. I told them that I didn’t know where to start and that their service sucked. I let it ripped, and told them that serving me Coffee milkshake instead of the chocolate milkshake I originally ordered for the consumption of my daughter was completely unacceptable.  How CHOCOLATE translated into COFFEE in their minds was beyond me.

They did not charge me for the milkshake and few other things on the bill – but in all honestly, it was not about the money. I was MAD that my hyperactive daughter had consumed a large amount of caffeine unbeknownst to us and I was afraid for our sanity that she might start bouncing off the walls in her most fashionable temper tantrums. I was anxious that my child who has a penchant for not liking sleep will now never sleep! 

We paid, and left. By then, there was nothing we could do but watch Spud like a hawk for any signs of the caffeine effect on Spud – something which we hadn’t witnessed before. We had to brace ourselves up for the inevitable.

The strange thing was, nothing actually happened. In fact, scarily enough, the opposite happened. Spud behaved really well after that. She was mellow. She listened really well and was pleasant to everyone. The best part of it all was that when we got home, she went for her nap when we told her to without any fight – a little unusual considering that she has been fighting sleep and had dropped her afternoon nap several times; one being just the day before!

She still woke up from her nap wailing that day, but otherwise, her temperament was even. When dusk set in, she had ants in her pants and was comfortably back to her old hyperactive self again. She was a little restless initially when we put her to bed, but had slept pretty well that night.

Looks like caffeine had no adverse effect whatsoever on our 2.5 year old Spud. We even joked that perhaps we should start giving her a shot of caffeine every now and then as it seemed to have a calming effect on her.

I googled on this several days later and stumbled upon several articles suggesting that caffeine do have an opposite effect on kids with ADHD.

Uh-oh.

Hmmmm