tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689267628798330062024-03-06T14:55:08.927+08:00LoopyMealsA few fries short of a Happy Meal!ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.comBlogger597125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-19059100646607236462014-02-21T19:13:00.001+08:002014-02-21T19:13:53.469+08:00What the Hell?If Hell had a showroom, our bedroom is it.<br />
<br />
At nights, I go to bed in the hottest place on earth. These days, in this weather, we're clocking about 30-odd degrees Celsius.<br />
<br />
Mae doesn't like the cold one bit. She also hates moving air, hence the fan is kept at the lowest speed. We also don't open the windows because my lovely wife is convinced that right outside, is a swarm of vicious mosquitoes hellbent on killing her.<br />
<br />
<i>"Honey, no matter how cold you get, you can always put on another blanket, or another layer of pajamas,"</i> I reason with her, <i>"but I can't do anything more than removing all my coverings."</i><br />
<br />
But no, Mae likes it Hellish.<br />
<br />
Despite the unforgiving temperature, for some reason Jesse and Maddie like to bunk with us. That's when we get to experience a little of the "<i>wailing and gnashing of teeth</i>" as well.<br />
<br />
<i>*sigh*</i> What's up with the weather anyway?ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-31879121923841591302013-02-19T19:26:00.002+08:002013-02-19T19:27:21.853+08:00Another Year of AbundanceIn all, I've done over 10 Lou Sangs. So you can imagine the rest of the stuff that came with it. The whole lot of it. And unfortunately, you can't consume all that food without any backlash.
<br><br>
It took me 3 months to lose 3kgs <i>(okay, so I wasn't as gung-ho as I could have been)</i>. And all of it came right back in just seven days. Life is unfair. Or fair, depending on how you look at it. <i>*sigh*</i>
<br><br>
In any case, Gung Hei Fat Choi. See? There's a "fat" in that greeting. How apt.ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-58410354178513100072013-01-07T09:15:00.001+08:002013-01-07T13:05:26.028+08:00Dark DayIt's Maddie's fourth day at school. Last week was okay, but today didn't start well.
<br /><br />
<i>"Daddy, you stay with me, okay?"</i> she asked, all the way to school. I try not to lie to her. <i>"Only for a short while, Baby,"</i> I said reassuringly. But she was anxious all the same.
<br /><br />
A short little trip to 7-Eleven was supposed to be a clever little bribe, but my little girl was cleverer. <i>"Coughing cannot drink Vitagen,"</i> she tells me. Even her favourite Tic Tacs weren't doing the trick.
<br /><br />
In the end I carried her all the way to her classroom. Teacher Mary Ann recognised the problem and attempted to carry her away. Maddie clutched at my shirt, fear and trembling in her eyes, like a tragic scene from a movie.
<br /><br />
<i>"Tell your girl it's gonna be alright, Gordon,"</i> Harvey Two-Face snarled, waving his gun menacingly as he held on to my child. <i>"Lie,"</i> he hissed viciously, <i>"like I lied."</i>
<br /><br />
Every impulse in my body wanted to react. I wanted to grab my little girl, clutch her close to me and run out the door. And I would have taken out whoever tried to stop me. <br /><br />
That would have been the Daddy she deserved, but not the one she needed right now.
<br /><br />
<i><b>Addendum:</b>
<br />
I abandoned my little girl at the verge of tears today, and it was eating me up just a little bit. But as it turns out, she was all happy and cheerful when Mommy picked her up. See, Babykins? Daddy did it for your own good. :P
</i>
ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-48481584361014214452012-10-25T12:48:00.000+08:002012-10-25T12:55:20.895+08:00Adult EntertainmentOkay, so the title is sensationalist, but the subject matter isn't all that far off.
<br><br>
Recently, Maddie's kindie threw their year-end concert. My little girl's class 3-year-olds sang "It's a Small World". Leading up the the big day, she had been rehearsing industriously - singing her harmony part during mealtime, bathtime, playtime and even potty time. It was the cutest thing, and we were certain it would be a cute little performance.
<br><br>
Then came the big day. When Maddie entered the stage with the rest of her classmates, we realised this was gonna be something else altogether. Firstly, it wasn't a familiar version of the song. This one had that pumped up thumpity-thump base going. Our little girl was dressed in a midriff-baring, spaghetti-strapped, sequined little black number.
<br><br>
And that was pretty much the theme for the whole affair. Little girls in all their revealing, sequined dresses, while most of the boys dressed like waiters at a karaoke joint. Somewhere in the program was a Bruno Mars song, and there was another class dancing to David Guetta. It was all very adult. In fact, if I didn't know any better, I would have thought this was some Kelab Malam Kanak-Kanak somewhere. <i>Heheh.</i>
<br><br>
Maybe I'm old fashion, but shouldn't kids do more kiddy things like dress up as little animals, bugs or plants singing cute kiddy songs, like <i>"I've been working on the railroad"?</i>
<br><br>
Okay, maybe not that one. That's a nursery rhyme about Dinah whom, I'm sure, is some two-timing slut who decided to rendezvous illicitly with another man in her kitchen. <i>*tsk *tsk</i>
<br><br>
Incidentally, Maddie was fabulous all the same. I think the kid's got entertainment in her blood. ;)
ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-87992823139044433282012-10-20T20:20:00.001+08:002012-10-20T20:20:35.594+08:00NightmareJesse came into our room early this morning, crying.<br />
<br />
"I'm so scared Daddy," he sobbed. "I had a terrible nightmare." At this point, I'm supposed to say, "It's okay son, it's just a dream." But then, that would be so not me.<br />
<br />
"What did you dream about," I asked.<br />
<br />
"I dreamt I went into a portal," he explained, "and I was teleported to another planet."<br />
<br />
"Then what happened?" I was intrigued at the colourful contents of the recesses of his 8-year-old mind.<br />
<br />
"I couldn't breathe," he continued, "and then I died."<br />
<br />
Man. Awesomest nightmare ever.ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-72890542151405660032012-10-09T10:20:00.000+08:002012-10-09T10:21:18.730+08:00RepriseIt appears I'm back to not blogging again. And so this is a quick fix to that problem. Sort of an instant redemption thing.
<br><br>
I recently met a blogger who told me he makes it a point to blog often. He's a pretty busy guy, doing sales and all, so he manages some time in between appointments. So far, it's worked out pretty well for him.
<br><br>
But me, I'm anal. I like to nitpick at the stuff I write, going over the sentences again, tweaking it a little here and there, molding it and crafting it. I like it to read just quite right, so anyone reading can grasp the meaning, as well as the emotions attached. Can't help myself, really. It's a career habit.
<br><br>
But today I'm gonna try not to do that. Or at the very least, let some of it slide. Like, despite how that last paragraph makes me sound like some wanky aging hipster wannabe, I'm gonna let it slide.
<br><br>
Ah, the hazards of speed blogging.
ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-86015622573544155372012-08-27T17:29:00.000+08:002012-08-27T17:29:20.975+08:00Babykins<i>"Hey Babykins,"</i> I call to Maddie as I have done countless times before. She is, after all, the baby of the family, and at 3-years-old it's a cute little term of endearment.
<br><br>
<i>"Don't call me Babykins!"</i> she replies, <i>"I'm not a baby anymore, Daddy."</i>
<br><br>
Maddie can't wait to grow up. And you can see it in every little thing she does. She feeds herself, what little of it she chooses to eat. She wears her own shoes, although once in awhile, she slips up and gets them on the wrong sides. She wakes up at night on her own to take a pee, and she wipes her own poo.
<br><br>
In fact, she so self-reliant that she's all but ready to move out on her own and never look back. And that breaks my heart just a little. Yes, yes, Daddies are supposed to learn to let go, but she's three I just need a little more of my Babykins just a little longer.
<br><br>
<i>"Can't you just be Daddy's little Babykins for a little while more?"</i> I pleaded. This was not looking good for me. This is exactly how Daddy get wrapped around their daughters little fingers. But alas, it was futile.
<br><br>
<i>"Daddy, I'm a big girl now,"</i> she said as she looked earnestly at me, as though assuring me that Daddy's little girl is all grown up and that everything was gonna be alright. I was almost resigned to the fact that Maddie was never gonna be my Babykins anymore, when I remembered I still had a trump card up my sleeve.
<br><br>
<i>"Ok Sweet Pea,"</i> I responded, <i>"but how about Daddy bathe you now?"</i>
<br><br>
<i>"I want Daddy to bathe me,"</i> she squealed. And right there in the bathroom, we're back to being Daddy and Babykins once again. :)ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-1102029426386626022012-08-08T20:33:00.003+08:002012-08-08T20:34:59.101+08:00Aunty YitThere was a time I ate only eggs and not much else and no one could tell me different. I was eight at the time, and I pretty much ruled the world. That was, until I met her.<br><br>Aunty Yit was Dad's 2nd wife. She was a beautiful woman, but it was a nasty kind of beautiful. She had a death stare like the worst of them, except hers was accentuated by a pair of tattooed eyebrows - the sort that was perpetually in a state of fury. And, she didn't take shit from bratty little 8-year-olds.<br><br><i>"Eat!"</i> she boomed. My blood curdled as I quickly raised my fork and stuffed a glob of lifeless, overcooked spinach into my mouth. It tastes like shit. Shit, seasoned with the salt from the sweat of my brow. I gave it a couple of feeble chews and gulped my misery down.<br><br><i>"Eat!"</i> It was the very word that would shape my life, and unfortunately my adult body. <i>(Which is overly large, in case you were wondering.)</i> It was the word that heralded the beginning of my relationship with her.<br><br>Aunty Yit was toughs as nails, intelligent and funny all at the same time. And she loved children as much as she loved tormenting them. Although I painted her as the embodiment of the wicked stepmother in my childhood, I would learn over time, that she loved me as one of her own. And she loved Mae, Jesse and Maddie too.<br><br>Aunty Yit passed away on 6th July 2012. She had lived 65 years but the last six of those she spent battling cancer. She spent the last few months putting her affairs in order and gave us explicit instructions that her funeral arrangement was to be simple, cheerful, and full of eating. Aunty Yit was cremated and laid to rest in the ocean. And immediately after, we ate.<br><br><i>"Eat!"</i> she said, and we did. And with that, Aunty Yit left my life as she came into it.<br><br><i>Footnote: A day after the funeral, we tried explaining to Maddie what had happened to her Grandma. "Do you know where Grandma is?" we asked. "Grandma is sleeping in the oven," she said. Hahaha. If Aunty Yit had lived to hear that, she would have enjoyed it immensely.</i>ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-20302387205059096642012-08-02T11:06:00.000+08:002012-08-02T11:08:01.495+08:00Under Where?<i>"Daddy,"</i> my son suddenly said in the elevator as we were heading out to school, a solemn look washed over his usually cheerful disposition. He continued, <i>"yesterday was <b>reaaalllly</b> bad."</i><br><br>Jesse is 8 which, in my book, is still just a little kid. But sometimes he'd speak like an old soul, with all the right emphasis in just the right words, and the right look to match, creating all the right nuances in all the right places. Like this conversation we were having.<br><br>I was concerned, but I feigned a little callousness to diffuse the tension in the air.<br><br><i>"Why, what happened?"</i> I casually asked.<br><br><i>"Yesterday, when Mommy took out my clothes for school,"</i> he explained intently, <i>"she gave me Girl-Girl's panties."</i> At that point, he started chuckling, <i>"I didn't know until I got to school."</i><br><br>I laughed my ass off. How he managed to squeeze into his little sister's undies defies the laws of Physics. Maddie is just 3. <i>Heheh.</i><br><br>And no, you're not allowed to embarrass him about it when you see him. That's his Daddy's job. :PThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-65303911101601530722012-07-30T10:03:00.001+08:002012-07-30T10:04:27.267+08:00Back to BloggingYesterday, just by chance, I revisited a couple of entries in this blog. I started off looking back at what I wrote about Grandma, and one thing led to another and soon I was reading post upon post of what I wrote back in 2004.<br><br>
I miss blogging. Not just the act of putting down my thoughts for all to see, but also documenting down the events of my life, details of which I'd forget without LoopyMeals. (Especially since I'm not getting any younger)<br><br>
It's been an awfully eventful month. Heck, it's been an eventful couple of years and I have nothing to remember them by other than my age-ravaged memory. Hopefully I'll be able to do something about that. I meant the archiving.<br><br>
The memory thing is probably a lost cause now.ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-18210764469098773172011-10-06T12:15:00.002+08:002011-10-06T12:17:42.080+08:00The Loss of an iCon<center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thatjames/6216459148/" title="RIP Steve Jobs by thatJames, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6106/6216459148_2e9b0d7462.jpg" width="494" height="331" alt="RIP Steve Jobs"></a></center>
<br><br>
First Apple I ever used was the LCIII way back in 1993. Thereafter, there was a period shortly after when I used legit <i>(and crappy)</i> Apple clones. Of course, those weren't Steve Job's fault since he was absent from the company at the time.
<br><br>
Anyway, 18 years on and having gone through iMacs, iBooks, MacBooks, PowerMacs, an iPhone and an iPad, you kinda feel "invested" into the life and times of Steve Jobs.
<br><br>
So yeah, today Steve Jobs passes on. Looking at that pic from apple.com gives me a weird and unnatural feeling of, quite possibly irrational, loss for someone I didn't even know personally. But if you use a lot of Apple products, you might know what that feels like.
<br><br>
Goodbye Steve.ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-26205557841252946282011-09-13T09:04:00.000+08:002011-09-13T09:04:36.649+08:00Maddie Saves the DayIt was a day like any other. Mom had had an idyllic morning but somewhere in the deep recesses of her gut, was a feeling that all was not quite right. She brushed it aside as gas (<i>hehe!</i>) and went on about her chores.<br />
<br />
It was almost lunch and on this day, Mom decided she would fry a fish. Despite the main course being a dead fish, lunch was coming along swimmingly. Then, Mom decided to add in a garnish of Chinese parley from the fridge and so she reached out to open the kitchen door when she realised it was locked.<br />
<br />
We do our frying in a wet kitchen just a door outside the rest of the apartment. Whenever Mom cooked, she'd close the door to prevent smoke fumes from entering our home. This time, however, she had accidentally locked herself in the wet kitchen.<br />
<br />
<i>"Maddie,"</i> Mom called out to her 2-year-old granddaughter, <i>"open the door for Mah-Mah!"</i><br />
<br />
Maddie was in the living room watching TV, but our obedient little girl dropped everything and went to Mah-Mah's rescue. But alas, her tiny little hands still hadn't gotten the hang of doorknobs. The door remained shut and poor little Maddie started crying in futility.<br />
<br />
That's when the gravity of Mom's predicament hit her. She was locked in the wet kitchen with no key, no phone and no way of getting out. Maddie, on the other hand, was in the living room with everything but no means of using them.<br />
<br />
At 12:30pm, I received a call from my Mother-In-Law. She had picked up Jesse from school that day and had sent him home only to be greeted by Mom's situation. I scrambled to leave, darting out of the office. I was almost at my car when the phone rang again. <br />
<br />
<i>"Everything's okay now,"</i> MIL said in a sigh of relief, <i>"everything's okay."</i><br />
<br />
Mom has a habit of leaving the front door open, to let in fresh air. I used to heckle her for it, citing that there's no such thing as fresh air in the Klang Valley. Thankfully, this time around, she chose to ignore my words. On this day, she also chose to leave her house keys on the low cabinet within Maddie's reach.<br />
<br />
<i>"Maddie,"</i> Mom called out. By this time, Maddie had regained her composure and had resume watching TV as if nothing had happened. <i>"Maddie, take Mah-Mah's key and give it to Koko!"</i><br />
<br />
And outside, Maddie's Koko, Jesse was calling out in unison.<br />
<br />
My clever little girl shuffled over to the cabinet, reached out for Mah-Mah's keys and retrieved it. Mom, looking through the window from the wet kitchen cheered with joy! Outside, MIL and Jesse rejoiced.<br />
<br />
As Maddie made her way to the front door, suddenly her favourite song came on TV. And although Mah-Mah's instructions were explicit, there were more important things in life for our little girl. Like a good song on TV. And so, she paused for a moment to watch it before carrying on with her task. (<i>*sigh* I only wished I were there to witness this precious moment.</i>)<br />
<br />
And so, Maddie got the keys safely to MIL and Jesse who let themselves in and subsequently let Mom out of the kitchen. <br />
<br />
Strange thing though; according to MIL, the door was never locked. And try as I might, I just can't see how Mom locked herself in. Perhaps there's something unseen at work here. <i>WooOoOOoo...</i>ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-18122621694489564152011-08-03T13:46:00.000+08:002011-08-03T13:46:13.778+08:00Singing for LoveYeah. This is me blogging again. :) And it's an old story too, something I meant to note down for posterity but then life got in the way. <i>*sigh*</i><br />
<br />
Anyway, it was Father's Day awhile back. And like all Sunday mornings, the kids get up first. Maddie was pottering around the room entertaining herself like she always does on the weekends.<br />
<br />
I climbed out of bed and propped myself on the floor right in front of her.<br />
<br />
<i>"Give Daddy a kiss, Sweetpea,"</i> I said as lifted her chin a little to gaze into her eyes.<br />
<i><br />
"Doman!"</i> she snaps in her little baby-version of <i>"don't want"</i> and quickly turns to leave.<br />
<br />
<i>"Aww c'mon Baby, just a teeny-weeny little kiss, ok?"</i> I tried again.<br />
<br />
<i>"Doman,"</i> she asserts. Maddie don't do touches and hugs and kisses.<br />
<br />
At that point I felt a little vulnerable, I gotta admit. It was Father's Day and my little girl refused to acknowledge my place in her world. It kinda hurt a little bit. My little girl had brought her Daddy down to his knees. <i>*sniff*</i> <br />
<br />
<i>"But it's Daddy's Day, today,"</i> I pleaded.<br />
<br />
But her tiny heart of stone knew only one answer. <i>"Doman"</i>.<br />
<br />
Then I has a brainwave. I started singing Barney. <i>"I love you, you love me, we are happy family..."</i> When I got to the part, <i>"with a great big hug and a kiss from me to you,"</i> I emphasised it more than a little, and quite automatically, Maddie stepped up to me, hugged me and kissed me square on the lips.<br />
<br />
And just like that, it was a nice day once again.ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-88462020784243308862011-05-11T08:55:00.001+08:002011-05-11T08:55:59.438+08:00Hot 'Nuff For Ya?The weather in the last couple of days has been crazy hot. The nights are so hot it's almost impossible to sleep. <em>(I say "almost" cos there isn't any force on earth that can actually stop me from sleeping. Heh.)</em> It's so hot you can take a shower and come out sweating.<br />
<br />
And, as if that isn't bad enough, my room aircond's broken. It's not altogether cold, and the damn air fin thing that directs the air has a mind of it's own. I adjust it on the controller to direct the cool air right onto me, and in a couple of hours the freaking thing just decides I have had enough, and moves right back up, pointing the air to God knows where.<br />
<br />
And, as if THAT isn't bad enough, my fridge is broken too. Something's wrong with the freezer. It keeps the food cold enough so that it doesn't go bad, but it isn't cold enough to make ice. Hell will freeze over before the ice tray in my freezer does. In a time when I need ice most of all.<br />
<br />
So yeah, nothing's working. Except my hot water shower.<br />
<br />
I swear there's a conspiracy amongst my household appliances to kill me.ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-52703599473489318382011-04-26T08:53:00.002+08:002011-04-26T10:10:34.985+08:00Tech SavvyLast night, I came home with a nice little Disney Princess doll for Maddie. It's one of those cute little things that sings. This one sang a song in the tune of "I'm a little teapot". I figured, since my little girl is into singing now, she'd get a big kick out of it.<br />
<br />
She did. For all of 2 minutes.<br />
<br />
After that she ditches the damn thing, heads straight for the iPad instead, launching the YouTube app and playing some videos of nursery rhymes instead. <i>*sigh*</i><br />
<br />
Jesse is also big on YouTube. These days he's learning the words to Queen's "We Will Rock You".<br />
<br />
Back in my day, the only piece of tech I got was a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/View-Master">Viewmaster</a>. It was one of those toys that looked into like a binoculars, with a cardboard disc that had slides on it. You clicked on the lever, and it took you through some 10 to 12 slides. And that, impressed the shit out of me. <i>"Look Mommy, I'm watching a movie!"</i> Never mind that it didn't have sound and the pictures didn't move. It was magic as far as I was concerned.<br />
<br />
Our kids are tech savvy. <br />
<br />
Meanwhile, Mae still can't locate the YouTube app on the iPad. <i>Heheheh.</i><br />
<br />
It's okay Hun. One day when the world is decimated by a nuclear holocaust, and the world is relegated back to the dark ages, your rudimentary survival skills will see us through. Then you can show us who's boss.ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-26990867335196783452011-04-19T14:16:00.001+08:002011-04-19T14:19:48.354+08:00Loopymeals ReturnsThe Valentine of 2010 shall forever be a day of infamy. It was the day after Haloscan shut down for good and all the comments on this blog was unceremoniously dumped into Echo. Echo was fine as a comment system, but it lacked the elegant simplicity that Haloscan gave to blogs and commenters around the world. <i>(It also cost USD10 a month which was frickin' daylight robbery!)</i><br />
<br />
It took me awhile to ponder the fate of my comments. Do I pay the 10 bucks a month? Or risk losing my comments into the bottomless bowel of capitalism? I decided I could live with neither, and thus began my quest for an answer. <br />
<br />
In the wee hours of a February morning that same year, I chanced upon the answer in <a href="http://www.ellenshapiro.com/blog/2010/02/so-you-want-to-move-your-comments-from-haloscan-to-blogger/">Goat World.</a> It was a miracle. But poring through the sacred text that was to bring my comments back home, I was quickly overwhelmed by the complex ritual I had to perform to such effect. The simple fool that I am, I was not meant for such a mammoth task.<br />
<br />
And so I slipped into depression. I stopped blogging <i>(at least not regularly)</i>. How could I go on, when the answer was right before me, yet I had no foreseeable way of undertaking it? <br />
<br />
With a heart heavy laden with disappointment and dejection, I set out on a pilgrimage of self-discovery and meditation, and descended into a state of nothingness. I awoke in a prison in Bhutan where, after a scuffle with inmates in which I emerged victorious, it was made known to me of my assimilation into the clandestine and mysterious organization, the League of Shadows. Under the tutelage of it dubious yet charismatic leader, Ra's Al Ghul, I transcended the trappings of my ordinary life and found my thirst for truth and justice. Today, I return as Batman.<br />
<br />
<i>Heh.</i> The real story is boring as heck, so I thought you might enjoy a little drama. <br />
<br />
Anyways, all the comments and blog postings are back in one place, as it should be. It was a painstaking process that took me most of my weekend, but all 8,352 comments have been rescued! <i>*sniff*</i> I've also finally done some tweaking with the template. So I'm happy again. And a happy blogger is a busy blogger. Perhaps. Let's wait and see.<br />
<br />
<center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thatjames/5633269617/" title="Old Loopymeals by thatJames, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5021/5633269617_0ce574142a.jpg" width="494" height="321" alt="Old Loopymeals"></a><i>out with the old, in with the new</i></center><br />
<i>To <a href="http://www.ellenshapiro.com/blog/">Ellen Shapiro</a>, you are awesome. I ♥ you much much!</i>ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-33974990556215425792011-04-13T14:00:00.001+08:002011-04-18T16:38:00.352+08:00New & ImprovedOk. Not necessarily. But this is a new template on the blog.<br />
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I was tinkering with the template and trying to figure out how to tweak some stuff when everything just went south. So instead of trying to crack my head over how to restore everything, I decided to just click one of them free templates they give you on Blogger. So here we are.<br />
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I'll take me forever to tweak this template. Look at how long it took me to start blogging again, and that should give you some indication how long this next enterprise will take.<br />
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And yeah, I lost all the old comments you left for me. It breaks my heart cos I really liked that you took the time to stop by and log in a few words. *sigh*<br />
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Stupid crap Echo comment system. Anyone knows how to migrate my old Haloscan/JS-Kit/Echo comments to Blogger? I'll buy you a nice dinner. :DThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-54886877766514175792011-04-11T19:10:00.001+08:002011-04-18T21:32:12.600+08:00Don't CryMaddie is all of 23 months now. She's talking a lot these days, except the times when she actually wants something in which case she just wails her head off. <i>*sigh*</i> But yeah, she's picking up words and phrases and she parrots whatever we say to her. <br />
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But the cutest part of it is, she sometimes offers herself words of comfort, just like we would do whenever she was upset or afraid.<br />
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There was this episode when Mommy was leaving for work and poor little Maddie was being especially sticky. Mae tries to sneak out undetected, but unfortunately, the wife isn't quite cut out for such clandestine operations. Picture a buffalo stampede through your front door. <i>Heh.</i><br />
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And so Maddie catches wind of Mommy less-than-graceful exit, and starts crying for Mommy. And in moments like this, I have a place in her world once again. I pick her up and she buries her face in my neck, sobbing her little heart out. And right there in between sobs and sniffles my cute, sweet little baby consoles herself. <i>"Don't cry, Baby, don't cry".</i><br />
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Awwww. <br />
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<i>"Don't you cry tonight. There's a heaven above you, Baby. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zRIbf6JqkNc">Don't you cry tonight</a>."</i>ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-36790369921581717862010-08-26T17:40:00.001+08:002011-04-18T21:32:42.547+08:00Six Years of JesseJesse is six today.<br />
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It wasn't all that long ago when he was just <strike>an itch in my groin</strike> a baby. And suddenly, lo and behold, the boy is six.<br />
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Suddenly, he's all independent and stuff. Suddenly he doesn't need Daddy to switch on the lights for him anymore. Suddenly he's operating the DVD player all on his own, and working the iPhone. Suddenly he's Googling, and reading his own bedtime stories. Suddenly he doesn't need Daddy to wipe his ass anymore.<br />
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And suddenly I miss it all. Except maybe that last one.<br />
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He's even begun dictating the terms of his birthday celebration. <i>"Daddy, for my birthday, I want to go the the place,"</i> he explains, <i>"where we eat the fish on the leaf, with the Roti Canai and the sugar."</i><br />
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It used to be McDonald's. But my little boy is all grown up now. <i>*sniff*</i><br />
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In other news, Little Maddie is on her way into her McDonald's phase very soon. Ah, the stories I have to tell. :) More blogging!!!ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-91235565530630845582010-06-30T14:20:00.001+08:002011-04-18T21:33:13.459+08:00Calling Alvin!I've been thinking; how is it that there are so many Chinese guys out there named Alvin? It boggles the mind.<br />
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I know no less than 10 Alvins - in all their many permutations of the name. There is the original Alvin. And then there's Alwin and Alwyn. And Elvin, of course. I also know an Alvern. And perhaps the most unique of them all, Alwynt. <i>(I swear I'm not making this up.)</i><br />
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Somewhere along the Chinese anthropology, we decided that good ol' Ah Fook, Ah Keong and Ah Beng are just not cool enough. And so Chinese parents went looking for cool name to tag onto their kids. And we probably got some of these names from the Bible <i>(the Christian names, as we used to call them)</i>, and a whole lot from Hollywood and other popular culture. <br />
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Which brings us right back to the question, where in the world did Alvin come from? As far as I know, I never read about an Alvin in biblical times. If he did indeed exist, he sure as heck didn't do anything important enough to be mentioned. Which leaves us with pop culture. There are only two Alvins that I'm aware of. There's Alvin the chipmunk, and Alvin Stardust who sang one sappy hit song in the 80s.<br />
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Surely your parents didn't name you after a chipmunk, did they? And who listens to Alvin Stardust anyway?<br />
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So Alvin, can you ask your parents?ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-58374845860097347122010-06-28T12:19:00.001+08:002011-04-18T21:33:43.583+08:00Stealth KissesMaddie doesn't do kisses.<br />
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For some reason, our little girl doesn't liked to be kissed. Her lips are no man's (<i>or woman's</i>) land, which can be tough on Daddy cos she's got the cutest little lips that are just begging to be kissed. Heh. But when you come within stinky-breath distance from her face, our baby girl will take all necessary evasive action. <br />
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I've tried shaving, so that my stubble won't bother her. Heck, I've gone as far as to brush my teeth and gargle with mouthwash (<i>in the middle of the day, mind you</i>) to no avail. I come close and she'll twist and turn her head. Sometimes she'll even shove at my face. One time I swear she was trying to break my nose and shove the bone up my brain to put me out of my misery. <br />
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And then she shakes her head vigorously to display her disapproval. This is coming from a 13-month-old kid. So what's a Daddy to do, but to get creative?<br />
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Maddie has no problems kissing inanimate objects. Bring her dolly up to her face, ask her to kiss it and my little girl will crane her neck out to peck the doll. So I do that, but at the very last moment, I pull dolly away and steal a kiss, like a ninja. Score 1 for Daddy. She has since wised up to my ways and that trick's not working anymore. <br />
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I also found short-lived success by covering my lips with my hand or a sheet of paper, coming really close and planting one on her kisser. That one's not gonna work anymore, too.<br />
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Then one day while I carried her, I put on the most pathetic face I could muster and asked, <i>"Don't you love Daddy? Don't you want to kiss Daddy a little?"</i> She looked at me with a twinkle in her eye, leant forward... and gave me a friendly pat on the back.<br />
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<i>*sigh*</i> Guess I'll just have to settle. Until you're ready, sweetheart.ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-66287950172744955102010-05-28T08:57:00.001+08:002011-04-19T12:56:27.829+08:00Drawing Inspiration<center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thatjames/4645794961/" title="iphone_photo by thatJames, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4007/4645794961_bb98d2a1ea_o.jpg" width="447" alt="iphone_photo" /></a></center><br />
Jesse made me this drawing a couple of days back. "Take this to work with you, Daddy," he said, "and show it to your friends". The kid's a narcissist, I tell you.<br />
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The drawing made me laugh. It's his cute little attempt at spelling and his record of events and observations that entertains me no end. I think I'll teach him to blog next. That oughtta be hilarious.<br />
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As for the drawing, the boy managed to sucker Uncle Jeff into getting him the new Iron Man toy as a present when they were out at Tropicana City. He's also awed by the fact that Iron Man has a triangle arc reactor this time around.<br />
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I dunno, but I thought that deserved a blog post in itself. :)ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-77401791611681988222010-05-25T10:16:00.001+08:002011-04-18T21:34:38.444+08:00Maddie 365Maddie turned one 2 Sundays ago. As tradition, we had a little bash for the family. It was like a scene from <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0099685/" target="_blank">Goodfellas</a>. <br />
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There was Jeffrey and Stevie and Me. There was Gino from the family up north. There was Slicky Ricky and his brothers, Eric the Booze and Two-Tone Tony. There was Tall Joey, who was Lari's brother from the wife's family. Two Jasons. And you had Ashley The Eyes and his gal, Cotton Candy. And Jeremy 2K, who gets the nickname because he owes me 2K. <br />
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It was all in the family, but you get the idea. Now enjoy the photos. :)<br />
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<center><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3300/4627664387_b85e79af12_o.jpg" width="447" height="585" alt="Maddie tries Vitagen" /></center><br />
It's Maddie's first birthday and we're a little liberal with her eating for the day. She gets a first taste of Vitagen and she loves the stuff. Check out the killer pose.<br />
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<center><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4014/4627664559_385381f94e_o.jpg" width="447" height="286" alt="Buffet Spread" /></center><br />
The spread. We catered this from D'Fortune and it was good. An order for 45 feeds 60, with some leftovers. Shhh...<br />
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<center><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4058/4627664655_5bf716eefb_o.jpg" width="447" height="262" alt="Upset" /></center><br />
Maddie complaining to Auntie Sue, "There's just too many people here, and they're eating my food!"<br />
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<center><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4064/4628267538_191c5aa863_o.jpg" width="447" height="252" alt="Sleeping with the aunties" /></center><br />
The Grisly Sisters (mine), watching Maddie sleep. There's something discomfiting about this picture, because you should never sleep in the presence of these two. Especially when they have marker pens nearby. Trust me on this. Poor Maddie.<br />
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<center><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4018/4628267744_901cefc76e_o.jpg" width="447" height="259" alt="Maddie's birthday guests" /></center><br />
The whole village. 60 of us, Grandfathers, grandmothers, grand uncles and aunties, uncles & aunties, cousins, etc. And this is not even the whole family! They came, they ate, they left. Just like locusts, except that we like them and they brought gifts. Heheh.<br />
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<center><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4050/4628267906_6b93dabdf6_o.jpg" width="447" height="243" alt="Birthday song" /></center><br />
One for the album. Everyone singing the song, but Maddie just wants cake.<br />
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<center><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3323/4628268106_1bc02d3e8a_o.jpg" width="447" height="298" alt="Kids attacking the cake" /></center><br />
Kids ravaging the cake. This one comes from The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf and it's got all kinds of goodies on top. The little horrors were just picking off the colourful treats, led by their leader, my son. :)<br />
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<center><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3317/4628268264_20ebdba8f3_o.jpg" width="447" height="279" alt="Flower Child" /></center><br />
A little flower power for my little girl. Maddie's totally into the cake decoration. She's also into her very first taste of cake.<br />
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<center><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3345/4627665455_dedc971ce0_o.jpg" width="447" height="234" alt="Maddie's Leftover Cake" /></center><br />
No it wasn't the kids. This was all Mae. Apparently it's extremely difficult to cut a cake that's got all kinds of candies on it.<br />
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<center><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4051/4627665635_24162eb0c9_o.jpg" width="447" height="231" alt="Cuppacake by Wondermilk" /></center><br />
Cuppacakes from Wondermilk. Mae bought a whole box of the stuff and ate it for a week. Yeah. Eww. Too much of a good thing, as far as I'm concerned.<br />
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<center><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3335/4627665775_8a07f3f4a0_o.jpg" width="447" height="254" alt="Maddie's Birthday Present" /></center><br />
Maddie gets her first birthday present. She loves it, if only to jump up and down on it.<br />
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It was tiring just looking at all those people. And in the end, it was more a party for everyone else than it was for poor little Maddie. <i>Sorry sweetheart. Daddy will make it up to you every birthday from here on, okay? </i>ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-16094476047620934872010-05-14T14:39:00.001+08:002011-04-18T21:35:03.189+08:00Reprise, Repeat, RepulsorI haven't blogged in ages and I figured I should. Aside from being a nice reminder of things that happened in our lives, it's also pretty therapeutic. And Lord knows I need therapy from time to time. Comes with the whole territory of being Hainanese. Heh.<br />
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Anyway, it's been over six years of blogging now. Or semi-blogging, as the case may be. Jesse's going to Primary 1 next year. Maddie turns 1 this Sunday. I'm pushing 40. And Mae is 25. (It's statements like this last one that ensures I get to turn 40.)<br />
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At this stage, if you've read this far, you'd realise I'm just rambling. Sort of a freestyle riffing. There is probably a point to this post, but it might take awhile getting there. It probably has to do with growing old and getting verbose. A few more years, I'll be recounting war stories and their many reruns from a rocking chair.<br />
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So yeah, this one's about growing old, and growing up.<br />
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I look back at the last six years of blogging and I don't recognise the blogger. I've grown awfully cynical and perhaps even somewhat bitter. I don't marvel at too many things these days. And people don't surprise me any more. I've grown to hate more things than I love. Because with age and experience, comes the ability to see through all kinds of bullshit. You know, the kind that suspends your disbelief in anything, allowing you to be happy and well-adjusted.<br />
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Growing old sucks. Cos you can't find the time to watch a movie at the cinemas. No wonder I'm bitter.<br />
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I need to watch Iron Man 2 before I self-destruct.ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-768926762879833006.post-46884817137266127872010-01-26T19:03:00.001+08:002011-04-18T21:35:37.615+08:00Eight MonthsWow. It's been awhile since I was last here. Yeah, I really should blog more, but somehow, life got in the way. And poor Maddie went through 8 months of her life without so much as a squeak. :( <br />
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<span style="font-style:italic;">Sorry, Sweetheart, Daddy'll make it up to you. I promise. With any luck, that could well be a nice convertible for your 21st birthday. But for now, it'll have to be a bunch of catch-up posts. Heh.</span><br />
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<center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thatjames/4305722241/" title="maddie-may-wjesse by thatJames, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4036/4305722241_590aa47af9_o.jpg" width="447" height="315" alt="maddie-may-wjesse" /></a></center><br />
Fresh from the farm, Little Maddie meets her big brother for the very first time. Although she appears nonchalant despite Ko-Ko Jesse's gawks, we suspect she's just holding back. In time she would develop the very same goofy stare <i>(complete with mouth agape)</i> for Ko-Ko as well.<br />
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<center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thatjames/4306465034/" title="maddie-june-haircut by thatJames, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4008/4306465034_bb70c94259_o.jpg" width="447" height="298" alt="maddie-june-haircut" /></a></center><br />
In the morning of her Full Moon party, Maddie gets her first haircut, courtesy of Grandma & Guys unisex salon. Despite my little girl's lack of hair, my mother takes another swipe at her barren locks at the very moment I had my back turned. Apparently, out of superstition. By the time I realised it, it was already too late. So, instead of stopping her, I stopped time. Via my Lumix LX-3.<br />
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<center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thatjames/4305722471/" title="maddie-july-sleep by thatJames, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2708/4305722471_9c6212d166_o.jpg" width="447" height="298" alt="maddie-july-sleep" /></a></center><br />
In her second month, Maddie sleeps. A lot. Didn't help that she woke only during the hours I was at work. Sometimes when no one was looking, I'd wake her up just so I could enjoy her waking moments. Shhh...<br />
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<center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thatjames/4305722571/" title="maddie-aug-botaks by thatJames, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2705/4305722571_a441f5c76c_o.jpg" width="447" height="325" alt="maddie-aug-botaks" /></a></center><br />
Three months on, and Maddie's still not doing terribly well in the hair department. We resorted to hats, hairbands, bonnets to help "girlify" her a little bit. In the end, I decided to lob off my hair too, just to keep my little girl company. Just so she can look back one day and say, <i>"Hey, Daddy had a silly haircut too!"</i> Mae hated the way I look. Silly woman.<br />
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<center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thatjames/4305722687/" title="maddie-sept-biting by thatJames, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4056/4305722687_00c0992e9a_o.jpg" width="447" height="298" alt="maddie-sept-biting" /></a></center><br />
After four months, Maddie starts practicing her bite. On anything, including her very accommodating big brother. She would eventually develop a couple of cute little gnashers.<br />
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<center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thatjames/4306465468/" title="maddie-oct-wmommy by thatJames, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2718/4306465468_e8c0189933_o.jpg" width="447" height="297" alt="maddie-oct-wmommy" /></a></center><br />
At five months old, our little princess develops a winning smile. She's also gained a lot of strength in her legs, kicking about every time you carried her, all the while grinning from ear to ear. Mae is all smiles too at this point, since she started to be able to squeeze back into her old jeans.<br />
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<center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thatjames/4306465594/" title="maddie-nov-vw by thatJames, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2762/4306465594_abe30329a4_o.jpg" width="447" height="298" alt="maddie-nov-vw" /></a></center><br />
Right on schedule, at the age of six months old, Maddie learnt to sit unaided. Here, we're prepping for one of those shots that was all the rage in the 70s. You know the put-you-kid-on-a-car shot? Helped that we had Mom's vintage VW at hand. This was also Maddie's first long-distance trip. We went back to my family home in Taiping. She cried most of the way cos she didn't want to be confined in a car seat. *sigh*<br />
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<center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thatjames/4305723021/" title="maddie-dec-ktinggi by thatJames, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4052/4305723021_fba1655b79_o.jpg" width="447" height="303" alt="maddie-dec-ktinggi" /></a></center><br />
For the Christmas holidays, we decided to take another trip. This time a short one to Bukit Tinggi, since Maddie wasn't terribly big on long car rides. The cool weather and the funky threads went down well with our little girl, hence the happy demeanour. BTW, those Vincent shoes she wears, we bought from FOS Kids & Teens. Cheap shoes for under 20 bucks. She can outgrow them without us feeling too much of a pinch. :D<br />
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<center><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/thatjames/4305723175/" title="maddie-jan-standing by thatJames, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2722/4305723175_219ce150ec_o.jpg" width="447" height="326" alt="maddie-jan-standing" /></a></center><br />
And finally, this just in. At a ripe old age of 8 months a couple of weeks back, our little girl is learning how to stand on her own two feet. Assisted by her own two arms of course. And as usually, Daddy is proud as hell. :)<br />
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So there. A pretty long post, after a long break. And with plenty of pictures too. A good restart, hopefully. :)ThatJameshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09807564881759660115noreply@blogger.com17