LoopyMeals

The Loss of an iCon

2011-10-06T12:15:00.002+08:00

First Apple I ever used was the LCIII way back in 1993. Thereafter, there was a period shortly after when I used legit (and crappy) Apple clones. Of course, those weren't Steve Job's fault since he was absent from the company at the time.

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.

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.

Goodbye Steve.

Maddie Saves the Day

2011-09-13T09:04:00.000+08:00

It 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 (hehe!) and went on about her chores.

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.

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.

"Maddie," Mom called out to her 2-year-old granddaughter, "open the door for Mah-Mah!"

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.

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.

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.

"Everything's okay now," MIL said in a sigh of relief, "everything's okay."

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.

"Maddie," Mom called out. By this time, Maddie had regained her composure and had resume watching TV as if nothing had happened. "Maddie, take Mah-Mah's key and give it to Koko!"

And outside, Maddie's Koko, Jesse was calling out in unison.

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.

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. (*sigh* I only wished I were there to witness this precious moment.)

And so, Maddie got the keys safely to MIL and Jesse who let themselves in and subsequently let Mom out of the kitchen.

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. WooOoOOoo...

Singing for Love

2011-08-03T13:46:00.000+08:00

Yeah. 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. *sigh*

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.

I climbed out of bed and propped myself on the floor right in front of her.

"Give Daddy a kiss, Sweetpea," I said as lifted her chin a little to gaze into her eyes.

"Doman!" she snaps in her little baby-version of "don't want" and quickly turns to leave.

"Aww c'mon Baby, just a teeny-weeny little kiss, ok?" I tried again.

"Doman," she asserts. Maddie don't do touches and hugs and kisses.

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. *sniff*

"But it's Daddy's Day, today," I pleaded.

But her tiny heart of stone knew only one answer. "Doman".

Then I has a brainwave. I started singing Barney. "I love you, you love me, we are happy family..." When I got to the part, "with a great big hug and a kiss from me to you," I emphasised it more than a little, and quite automatically, Maddie stepped up to me, hugged me and kissed me square on the lips.

And just like that, it was a nice day once again.

Hot 'Nuff For Ya?

2011-05-11T08:55:00.001+08:00

The weather in the last couple of days has been crazy hot. The nights are so hot it's almost impossible to sleep. (I say "almost" cos there isn't any force on earth that can actually stop me from sleeping. Heh.) It's so hot you can take a shower and come out sweating.

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.

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.

So yeah, nothing's working. Except my hot water shower.

I swear there's a conspiracy amongst my household appliances to kill me.

Tech Savvy

2011-04-26T08:53:00.002+08:00

Last 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.

She did. For all of 2 minutes.

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. *sigh*

Jesse is also big on YouTube. These days he's learning the words to Queen's "We Will Rock You".

Back in my day, the only piece of tech I got was a Viewmaster. 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. "Look Mommy, I'm watching a movie!" Never mind that it didn't have sound and the pictures didn't move. It was magic as far as I was concerned.

Our kids are tech savvy.

Meanwhile, Mae still can't locate the YouTube app on the iPad. Heheheh.

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.

Loopymeals Returns

2011-04-19T14:16:00.001+08:00

The 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. (It also cost USD10 a month which was frickin' daylight robbery!)

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.

In the wee hours of a February morning that same year, I chanced upon the answer in Goat World. 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.

And so I slipped into depression. I stopped blogging (at least not regularly). How could I go on, when the answer was right before me, yet I had no foreseeable way of undertaking it?

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.

Heh. The real story is boring as heck, so I thought you might enjoy a little drama.

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! *sniff* 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.

out with the old, in with the new
To Ellen Shapiro, you are awesome. I ♥ you much much!

New & Improved

2011-04-13T14:00:00.001+08:00

Ok. Not necessarily. But this is a new template on the blog.

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.

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.

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*

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. :D

Don't Cry

2011-04-11T19:10:00.001+08:00

Maddie 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. *sigh* But yeah, she's picking up words and phrases and she parrots whatever we say to her.

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.

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. Heh.

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. "Don't cry, Baby, don't cry".

Awwww.

"Don't you cry tonight. There's a heaven above you, Baby. Don't you cry tonight."

Six Years of Jesse

2010-08-26T17:40:00.001+08:00

Jesse is six today.

It wasn't all that long ago when he was just ~~an itch in my groin~~ a baby. And suddenly, lo and behold, the boy is six.

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.

And suddenly I miss it all. Except maybe that last one.

He's even begun dictating the terms of his birthday celebration. "Daddy, for my birthday, I want to go the the place," he explains, "where we eat the fish on the leaf, with the Roti Canai and the sugar."

It used to be McDonald's. But my little boy is all grown up now. *sniff*

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!!!

Calling Alvin!

2010-06-30T14:20:00.001+08:00

I've been thinking; how is it that there are so many Chinese guys out there named Alvin? It boggles the mind.

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 swear I'm not making this up.)

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 (the Christian names, as we used to call them), and a whole lot from Hollywood and other popular culture.

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.

Surely your parents didn't name you after a chipmunk, did they? And who listens to Alvin Stardust anyway?

So Alvin, can you ask your parents?

Stealth Kisses

2010-06-28T12:19:00.001+08:00

Maddie doesn't do kisses.

For some reason, our little girl doesn't liked to be kissed. Her lips are no man's (or woman's) 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.

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 (in the middle of the day, mind you) 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.

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?

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.

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.

Then one day while I carried her, I put on the most pathetic face I could muster and asked, "Don't you love Daddy? Don't you want to kiss Daddy a little?" She looked at me with a twinkle in her eye, leant forward... and gave me a friendly pat on the back.

*sigh* Guess I'll just have to settle. Until you're ready, sweetheart.

Drawing Inspiration

2010-05-28T08:57:00.001+08:00

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.

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.

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.

I dunno, but I thought that deserved a blog post in itself. :)

Maddie 365

2010-05-25T10:16:00.001+08:00

Maddie turned one 2 Sundays ago. As tradition, we had a little bash for the family. It was like a scene from Goodfellas.

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.

It was all in the family, but you get the idea. Now enjoy the photos. :)

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.

The spread. We catered this from D'Fortune and it was good. An order for 45 feeds 60, with some leftovers. Shhh...

Maddie complaining to Auntie Sue, "There's just too many people here, and they're eating my food!"

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.

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.

One for the album. Everyone singing the song, but Maddie just wants cake.

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. :)

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.

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.

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.

Maddie gets her first birthday present. She loves it, if only to jump up and down on it.

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. Sorry sweetheart. Daddy will make it up to you every birthday from here on, okay?

Reprise, Repeat, Repulsor

2010-05-14T14:39:00.001+08:00

I 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.

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.)

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.

So yeah, this one's about growing old, and growing up.

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.

Growing old sucks. Cos you can't find the time to watch a movie at the cinemas. No wonder I'm bitter.

I need to watch Iron Man 2 before I self-destruct.

Eight Months

2010-01-26T19:03:00.001+08:00

Wow. 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. :(

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.

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 (complete with mouth agape) for Ko-Ko as well.

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.

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...

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, "Hey, Daddy had a silly haircut too!" Mae hated the way I look. Silly woman.

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.

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.

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*

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

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. :)

So there. A pretty long post, after a long break. And with plenty of pictures too. A good restart, hopefully. :)

Maddie's 16-Day Milestone Report

2009-06-01T11:52:00.001+08:00

Day 1: Subject Madeleine is soft and squishy. Limbs and extremities look frail and fragile. Will probably snap under little effort. Must handle with care. Umbilical cord withering away, but still attached. Subject appears to need no constant nutrition, finding adequate sustenance from a short stint at subject's maternal mammary gland.

Day 2: Subject is excreting a dark, sticky matter from its posterior. This product is assumed to be Meconium. An assumption will be adequate at present time for the purpose of this report, due to this researcher's refusal to perform a taste and smell test.

Day 3: Subject has begun consuming and requiring a larger intake of subsistence. Its current diet of Colostrum, a concentrated nutritional lactative product, will soon be replaced by a higher volume dairy product. The Meconium production appears to be ceasing, much to the olfactory delight of the research team. Subject, however, has taken a slight yellow appearance on the epidermis. Subject will undergo a daily exposure of natural ultraviolet rays.

Day 6: Natural UV Therapy had paid off. Tests at the Damansara Specialist Hospital measures subject Madeleine's bilirubin level at 9.8mg/dl, a safe level. Subject has begun to respond to visual and auditory stimulus.

Day 9: Limbs and extremities have gotten firmer. Subject has also demonstrated increased strength, as well as increased suction power, as evident during feedings. However, it must be noted that subject's suction prowess is estimated on the basis of facial convolutions expressed by subject Madeleine's maternal lactation unit (also referred to as Mae).

Day 11: Subject's umbilical cord has dislodge from the main unit. Upon visual inspection, said umbilical matter is dried and withered, displaying a dark brownish-red transluscency similar to the processed combusted porcine aliment usually available during the Lunar new year festival. However, inhalation tests offer no such similarity, producing a pungent and putrid result. The research team has concluded that the unbilical matter is best disposed as biohazard and not safe for consumption, nor as accessorial ornaments.

Day 13: Registered at the National Registrar. Subject Madeleine will now fall under the purview of the Federal Government. However, subject will still be required to report to her parental units for all matters pertaining to cultivation and nurturing.

Day 16: Subject has begun to respond kinesthetically to stimulus. Her oral emissions in times of hunger are registering higher decibel levels oftentimes shattering the concentration of the maternal lactation unit. Otherwise, subject displays a calm, quiet demeanour, befitting of assumption regarding the female of her species. It must be noted that this assumption has oft been faulty with the researcher's own experiences with the female of the species.

This concludes the 16-Day Milestone Report on Subject Madeleine. In the final summary, the subject has shown remarkable growth and positive development. It's parental units, however, though positive in outlook, are showing signs of fatigue and weariness, but that is typical is studies like this.

Born to Twitter

2009-05-25T14:43:00.001+08:00

I love Twitter. If that isn't already apparent enough, here's one more reason.

On 16th May 2009, Baby Madeleine came out into the world. While she was always due on that very day, Doc had told us the day before that Maddie was most likely late. So we went about our Saturday like every other. But our Little Girl had other plans. I was just about done with my haircut when Mae called to say she was bleeding. No pain. No contractions. Just blood. We panicked. I called up our family members and told them. Told them also that I'd update on Twitter, which in turn updated my Facebook:

ThatJames rushing to hospital now. Slight bleeding. Baby due today, but could be false alarm.
12:21 PM May 16th from mobile web

mahyuni: @thatjames Hope it all goes well :) All the best to you and your family.
May 16, 2009 12:43 from TwitterFox

ThatJames Doc drew the curtains to inspect Mae. Jesse disappointed cos he wanna see. Kid doesnt realise he could be scarred for life.
12:46 PM May 16th from mobile web

ThatJames 4cm dilated. It's today. Mae getting prepped. I'm registering. Stress! Jesse doesn't understand why he can't go in. MIL coming to rescue.
12:55 PM May 16th from mobile web

ThatJames Registration taking forever. I need a shave. Stubble not good on baby girl's skin.
1:02 PM May 16th from mobile web

ThatJames Waiting now. Nothing's happening. Strangely, Mae is in no pain.
1:21 PM May 16th from mobile web

ThatJames http://twitpic.com/59qor - Doc giving epidural. Painful injection!
1:34 PM May 16th from TwitPic

ThatJames Stepmom called. Reminded me to call confinement lady. Lucky! My brain stopped functioning an hour ago.
1:44 PM May 16th from mobile web

ThatJames Didn't realise baby was arriving cos Mae didn't feel any painful contractions. Just the urge to take a dump. Weird.
1:52 PM May 16th from mobile web

ThatJames http://twitpic.com/59rrh - That spike was contraction. Mae felt it.
1:57 PM May 16th from TwitPic

ThatJames Water just broke on its own. Dad said when they told him my mom's water broke. He said, "That's ok, we'll get her another." Haha!
2:01 PM May 16th from mobile web

ThatJames should be updating until baby born. Facebook limits Twitter updates. If u see nothing, try http://www.twitter.com/thatjames
2:09 PM May 16th from mobile web

ThatJames From the charts, Doc says Baby very active. I think she can't wait to get out. Probably chanting, "Are we there yet?"
2:13 PM May 16th from mobile web

lord_ashe: @thatjames whoa. You've got my best wishes there. All the best! My wife is following your feed too!
May 16, 2009 14:20 from mobile web

ThatJames Thanks for the wishes. Will reply later. Not easy doing it from my cheap-ass Nokia. I need an iPhone but spent all my money on baby. Ha.
2:35 PM May 16th from mobile web

ShaolinTiger: @thatjames congrats mister, we want twitpics after birth. Time for a Nokia E71 or a Crackberry.
May 16, 2009 14:02 from web

lord_ashe: @thatjames haha thats what an iphone is for! i was watching the in room tv DuRInG delivery. Memoirs of geisha.
May 16, 2009 14:41 from twibble

ThatJames Abandoning Mae. Going for lunch. Hungry. Gotta choke down my food before baby arrives!
2:43 PM May 16th from mobile web

kimberlycun: @thatjames have a safe labour to you and mae!!!! more twitpics!
May 16, 2009 16:08 from TweetDeck

ThatJames Got me a Gillette at the shop downstairs. Now clean shaven enough to greet my baby girl when she arrives.
3:09 PM May 16th from mobile web

ThatJames Turns out water didn't break. Doc came and burst it by hand. Would have taken a shot if wasn't momentarily dumbfounded. Nasty!
3:36 PM May 16th from mobile web

ThatJames It's slow. Doc expects it to happen only by 5 or 6pm. Mae's sleeping. I wanna sleep too. Wish I had a portable DVD player.
3:43 PM May 16th from mobile web

ThatJames CellSafe guy calls me to see how we're getting along. They're the new guys we're banking Baby's stemcells with. Good service so far.
3:49 PM May 16th from mobile web

ThatJames http://twitpic.com/59wkp - Contractns make Mae pukish. Hence tray.
4:09 PM May 16th from TwitPic

ThatJames turns puke-catcher! Mae blew chunks of Roti Canai & Dhal into a tray that's way too small. Thank God nurses got here b4 it overflowed.
4:26 PM May 16th from mobile web

ThatJames 10cm dilated. It's time!
4:43 PM May 16th from mobile web

jasonmumbles: @thatjames Prayers for both mum and baby. Keep us updated, James!
May 16, 2009 16:45 from TwitterFox

ThatJames http://twitpic.com/59y1i - Push. Rest. Repeat.
4:59 PM May 16th from TwitPic

jasonmumbles: @thatjames Mae looks like she's going to kill you for taking her picture at such time. Heh! Push Mae, push!
May 16, 2009 17:01 from TwitterFox

ThatJames http://twitpic.com/59yh5 - She's out!
5:13 PM May 16th from TwitPic

jasonmumbles: @thatjames Congratulations! Woohooo!
May 16, 2009 17:22 from TwitterFox

akiraceo: @thatjames Gratz ^^ !!!!!!
May 16, 2009 17:25 from TwitterFox

ThatJames http://twitpic.com/59ywb - Madeleine Tan. 2.9kg Born 16.5.09 17:05
5:28 PM May 16th from TwitPic

yvonneslyeoh: @thatjames - ah! lots of luv & kisses going her way....Congratulations to ya both!!!
May 16, 2009 17:34 from web

eyerizzz: @thatjames Congratulations! The live minute-by-minute updates were... er... interesting. LOL
May 16, 2009 17:37 from TweetDeck

lord_ashe: @thatjames well congratulations! Welcome to the world. My first twitter birth feed lol.
May 16, 2009 17:43 from twibble

kimberlycun: @thatjames hi madelein! Welcome to the world :)
May 16, 2009 17:46 from twibble

nileshbabu: @thatjames congrats!
May 16, 2009 17:51 from TweetDeck

mottgirl: @thatjames http://twitpic.com/59ywb - Oh man.... she's gorgeous!
May 16, 2009 19:47 from TwitPic

ThatJames http://twitpic.com/5a1d8 - Thanks for the love! Mommy, baby, fine!
6:51 PM May 16th from TwitPic

melodysong: @thatjames Congratulations to you all! They both look lovely:)
May 16, 2009 18:54 from TwitterBerry

sivinkit: @thatjames A Big congrats!! God's blessings be with your family and esp. mommy and new arrival.
May 16, 2009 19:49 from TweetDeck

ben_israel: @thatjames hey congrats!
May 16, 2009 19:53 from TweetDeck

ThatJames http://twitpic.com/5a38j - Jesse very thrilled to meet baby sis.
7:52 PM May 16th from TwitPic

meeshly: @thatjames Congrats mate!
May 16, 2009 19:55 from web

ThatJames is home for a quick shower, a Maggi Mee dinner and to pack some stuff. Staying at the hospital tonite!
8:52 PM May 16th from Twitterrific

ThatJames is so tired that even the hospital-issue 'hubby bed' looks inviting. Goodnight folks. Thanks for the well wishes!
11:15 PM May 16th from mobile web

So yeah, our little girl Madeleine was born to a small Twitter audience last Saturday. Her arrival was also duly announced in a blow-by-blow account over at Facebook for our friends and family to follow.

It was quite a ride, and for all you fellas who happened to be on Twitter and Facebook that Saturday, thanks for your support and comments. It was pretty amazing to be able to share the moment with you. Thanks to Twitter, Twitpic and Facebook. Does this make me some kind of New Media Whore?

Oh yeah. Come follow me on Twitter. :)

It's Now

2009-05-16T14:29:00.001+08:00

It's 2:20pm now. Came in at noon cos Mae had slight bleeding, and turns out that Madeleine is coming out now. As it stands, Mae is 5cm dilated. We're still waiting. And hence this blog entry from my phone. Yeah, it's boring here. Hehheh. If you're interested, I'm updating on Twitter. That's on the right hand sidebar.

Launching

2009-05-12T18:16:00.001+08:00

The heavy oakwood doors swung open to Launch Complex 13A. Flight Director Mae Khoo steps onto the Mezzanine and pauses as she surveys the command centre, her team looking up from the floor below.

At 38, Mae cuts an imposing, although lately, a somewhat rubenesque figure. To commemorate the momentous day ahead, she wore dark slacks, a crisp white shirt and her signature white vest which her mother had made. Although crudely put together with low quality fabrics, likely a fashion disaster on a lesser female, Mae was a handsome woman who wore everything well.

She took a deep breath and walked to her command post. She switched on the console before her and put on her headset as a million little bulbs lighted up on the control panel.

"Project Madeleine flight controllers, listen up," she spoke sternly over the headpiece, "Susanna, give me a status report and the rest of you, a Go, or No-Go for launch!"

"Project Madeleine is stocked, docked and locked," reported Dr Susanna Huam, the head of Project Diagnostics, over the intercom, "we are Go for launch."

"Guidance?"

"We are Go, Flight" confirmed Guidance Director Vivienne as she flicked her thumb up.

"What's the status over at Backup ?"

"Affirmative!"

"Domestic Maintenance?"

"Yes Maam, we are Go."

"Camera"

"Yes, Maam," came the crisp reply, "Camera is all set for launch!"

"How about you, Support?"

"Yes," replied Fraternal Support Department representative, Jesse Tan. It was his first launch as Head of Support and you could hear the nervous anticipation in his voice. "We are go, Flight," he affirmed forcefully, determined to make the his mark on the team. Mae smiles at the rookie and gave him an appreciative nod.

"Transport?"

"Transport is Go, Flight Director."

"Finance?"

"All accounted for, Flight"

"Over to you, Management," said Flight Director Mae as she prepared to call the launch codes. She flicked some switched as she waited. This was the last confirmation she sought. However, she was met with silence.

"Management?" she repeated. "What the heck's going on down there at Management?"

"We're... um..."

"Speak up, man," snapped Flight over the intercom, "are we Go or No Go?"

"Um..." a voice at the other end trailed, "well, can we... um... we're not... um..."

"What is it this time?" Mae barks into the microphone.

Project Management was most crucial for launch, and yet it was run by the most incompetent slob in the team. If ever there was a screw up, Mae could usually track it down to this department. And there had been plenty. Finance was stretched thin, thanks to this guy. Thankfully they managed to pull through at the last minute. There was also a lot of indecision on his part where Transport was concerned. And Support got very little support from this asswipe. Then there was the issue with Camera which almost resulted in Camera's absence from the project. And now this; right at the brink of launch, Project Management was not ready, probably due to something trivial, Mae thought.

"Answer me now, Management," Mae yelled, "don't make me come there and abuse your inner child!"

"I... I... I..." the Head of Project Management replied, his face blue and his hands clutching at his crotch, his knees shaking vigorously, "I gotta pee."

...........................................................

4 days before the big day. Or anytime now, the doctor says. I'm nervous. Can you tell?

Jesse In Love

2009-05-02T22:49:00.001+08:00

Who's this Carmen, and what spell does she hold over my boy? And yeah, pardon the voice if I sound like a wuss. That's my son's spell over me. :P

A little background to what you'll be watching: We're talking to my Jesse about a name for his soon-to-be-born little sister when I decided to mention the name of his kindergarten classmate, the object of his affection.

A Rose by Any Other Name

2009-04-24T15:02:00.001+08:00

"I like Madeleine," Jesse proclaimed of his choice for his baby sister's name. Mae and I are not convinced that he could be so sure, so we decide to throw him a few other suggestions.

"How about Madison?" I asked the boy. I actually did like this one. It is a very cool, very comtemporary name, I thought. "That's a silly name," Big Brother said with a chuckle. Mae concurred, shrugging her shoulders. Mother and Boy were right, of course. Most Malaysians are likely to think we named our kid Medicine - and no kid's name should ever be associated with sickness and suffering. There was also that little issue of how it would sound with our surname. Unfortunately, Madison Tan would sound like "Maddie Lays an Egg" in Mandarin. *sigh* And so this one was out.

"How about Elena?" Mommy asked. As a kid, she had always wished that someone had named her Elena. Of course, she probably also wished that someday a prince on a white horse would sweep her off her feet. And look where that got her. Nope, I didn't like Elena. Neither did Jesse.

After that, we were just throwing names just to see if he'd change his mind about Madeleine. "How about Augusta?" I offered. It was just a name from a list starting with A that I had found online. "That sounds like Octopus," the kid countered. And he just went on and on with his smart-alecky answers for every name we threw at him.

"Annette?" I suggested, reading from the list. "Annette is for catching butterflies," my clever little son said. And if my boy can catch a humour in that name, so will poor little Annete's school friends, subjecting her to a life of taunting and teasing.

It was one of our major criteria of rejection. No taunt-worthy names. We've known of too many people with names they parents must have chosen for them when high on drugs. Like poor little Diana Saw, or sad little Harry Kok, or poor little Chow Chee Beng.

So Madeleine it is. Sure, some cruel (but wildly creative) kid in school will probably think of something, but for now, we're happy to be calling her that.

Ah, Madeleine. Sounds like a nice French pastry. :)

Fat Hopes

2009-04-21T21:22:00.001+08:00

"I know why you're trying to lose weight," the Wife said with a smart-alecky hmph, "Hmph!"

The fact is, I am.

When I hit my 30s, so did my waistline. And the way these things go, it just creeps up on you. One minute you're the kid everyone calls Bones, and the very next minute you're a tub of lard. I went from being a 50kg teenager, to a 60kg college boy, to a 75kg groom to a 91kg hippo during Chinese New Year this year.

For the last couple of years, I had been clocking in at 86kg - 88kgs. Wasn't going up, and I was certainly not getting any thinner. But then came CNY, the big-ass feast in my house, and I found myself at a whopping 91kgs. That's when I decided to shed some serious poundage. (But not before stuffing my face one last time on CNY leftovers, heh!)

Anyway, after weeks of counting calories, I'm now at 84kgs. It's That's 7 kgs down, but I'd really like to be 75kgs, or thereabouts. Or at least 80kgs by next month.

"You wanna be thin for your Baby Girl!" Mae said, as she laughed her ass off.

"Well, why not?" I asked the silly monkey woman. "Baby deserves to have a thin and handsome father."

Mae argues that Baby will never know the difference. But that's not true at all. Some day our little girl will grow up and when she gets her hands on her baby pictures, holding her in his skinny arms will be her thin and handsome Daddy. (Right next to her tubby Mommy, of course) Bwahahaahah!

It's probably time to hit the gym. Or I'll never hear the end of it.

Things You Never Wanna Hear

2009-04-14T09:16:00.001+08:00

Trust me on this. There are some things you never, ever wanna hear your pregnant wife say.

Number 3
"Honey, can you bring home my placenta, once I deliver?"

What is the protocol for such a thing? Are they gonna bag it, tag it and let me take it back home with me? Or do I have to bring my own Tupperware?

Number 2
"Would you cook it for me?"

Seriously. Where does one even begin? I'm thinking, this is gonna need copious amounts of peppercorn and probably a whole lot of vinegar. Perhaps we can just take it like that, with some fava beans and a nice Chianti. Do they have anything on this on the Asian Food Channel?

Number 1
"You can eat some too."

Look, I am of the opinion that every woman deserves to be eaten by her man (or woman, I'm not judgemental about anyone's sexual orientation), but this is bordering on good taste and cannibalism. "No no no no no!" I protest. "I'll be good for your receding hairline," Mae hits me where it hurts. But no. I don't care if it turns me into frickin' Brad Pitt, I'm not having any, thank you very much.

...............................

I hear it's an acceptable practice to eat your woman's placenta in some parts of the world, simply because it's good for you, but the whole idea is just plain icky to me. What happens if I develop a taste for it? It'll bring fresh meaning whenever I tell the silly woman, "I love you". It'll be like an episode of True Blood, minus any of the coolness and all the beautiful people in it. And of course there is that small detail of eating a placenta as opposed to drinking blood.

Anyway, as I write this, I have a colleague who has stated in no uncertain terms that she wishes to be invited, when we eat my wife. And we talk about it as though we're discussing livestock. Hahah! This is my wife we're talking about, not some pig, dammit. (I'm fighting really hard not to make some clever remark here, just so that I can live to a ripe old age. Haha!)

So, would you or wouldn't you? State your case in the comments, kiddies!

ADDED: Placenta cooking tips, in case anyone's interested. :P

Baby Wants Out

2009-04-08T00:01:00.001+08:00

"Look, Look," Mae calls out to me excitedly pointing at her belly. She had pulled up her shirt to observe our little girl in action, and the little tyke did not disappoint.

Baby was moving about in the belly, her every move visible as she stretched her way around Mae's overtly bulbous belly. Every now and then, she'd even yank at the umbilical cord or something, causing Mommy's now protruded navel to sink back in. It was the weirdest thing! Just like that extra-terrestrial creature right before it popped out of John Hurt's stomach in Alien.

"She's always moving upwards too," Mae complains, "and that always makes me want to puke."

I think she wants to come out through Mommy's mouth. Either that or via the emergency hatch though Mae's belly button. Which explains why she keeps on yanking at the ejection seat lever.

This is gonna be one fiesty little monkey girl. Just the ideal companion for the agile little monkey boy we already have.

Out for a Stroller

2009-04-06T16:10:00.001+08:00

We're in the market for a stroller when we stumbled upon this thing of beauty. The Quinny Zapp is a Dutch-made stroller that works with a car seat. And when Baby grows up some, just say "hey presto" (and pay another 900 bucks or so) and Quinny Zapp magically turns into a stroller for toddlers. Best of all, it folds into a really compact little package!

This is currently going for RM899 at Planeté Enfants, for the structure and the Maxi-Cosi infant car seat. RM899 is pretty pricey, but then again, it is both a stroller as well as a car seat. After all, a good infant car seat is about RM300 - RM400, and a baby stroller is about that much as well, which is the argument I make to Mae. Because I'm totally in awe of it, this wonderous thing of beauty and genius. So much so, you'd think I was getting into it.

And later, we can add another 900 bucks or so, and Baby can get into if until she's 5 or 6. Or we could take the whole lot now for just RM1699, as opposed to its regular price of a little over 2 grand. But damn, even at RM 1699 it IS a lot of money to spend on a kid.

But I want it so badly. And by that, I mean I want it for my Baby so badly. Heh. So badly, that I'm willing to starve my sorry ass for a few months to make this happen. Should I?

Budding Artist?

2009-04-01T14:22:00.001+08:00

drawing inspiration?

Every since Jesse could hold a pencil without attempting to ingest the damn thing, he'd been drawing. And, for a five-year-old, I think he's got potential. Then again, I am his father and am allowed to be biased so you'll forgive me. :)

If he ever develops this skill, let it be known that he got it from my side of the family. The Tan family are genetically creative. Jesse great-grandpa, my grandad used to paint movie posters in Capitol Cinema in Taiping. Yeah, way back before large-format printers, this stuff was hand-drawn, and my grandpappy was the man to do it. My uncle is also an accomplished artist, and Mom was always good in sketching and craft. I inherited a little of it too, which put me in my present vocation as a graphic designer. Jesse's Uncle Steve is also a pretty good artist, while his Uncle Jeff is... erm... well... a nice guy. Heh.

The shot above is the boy's sketch of his hero, Bruce Lee. He's put in quite a bit of detail here. Bruce has got hair, angry arched eyebrows, a mouth, 2 nostrils and five digits on each hand. He's also made sure to give Bruce Lee two nipples and a belly button. Hahahah! You can't teach stuff like this! No parent ever told his kid, "Hey, draw some nipples in there, and don't forget that bulge in his pants!" Nope, it's gotta come from his own observation.

Jesse also does a mean Iron Man. Yeah, that's my boy. :)

Motherparker

2009-03-27T10:41:00.001+08:00

This is a long, whiny one!

On Wednesday, I had a presentation to do at the client's. It was 2:30pm and I had a half hour to make it there, so it was all good. But when I got to my car, someone had double parked behind me.

Now, anyone who's ever been to Damansara Perdana will tell you that parking is a nightmare. There is so little space here that people double park. But we have an unwritten understanding about this; you park behind someone, you leave your number or a namecard.

I called the number on the dashboard. No answer. I called again. Still nothing. At this point, I was getting a little annoyed. Don't block someone's car if you're got gonna pick up the phone. And then suddenly I got an answer.

"Could you move your car please," I asked, trying my best not to sound irritated. I had always thought it best to be cordial in any situation. Unfortunately, the bitch on the other end of the line had other ideas. "Hmmph!," she grunted rudely, as though I had inconvenienced her. And with that, she hung up.

Fine. As long as she's coming to get her car. I thought.

10 minutes later, I was still there, my car still blocked. So I called her again, intending to give her a piece of my mind. No answer. I called again. And again. And again. By then I was seething. And I was gonna be late for my appointment. I got my colleagues to call. Same result. I SMSed her. No reply.

"I dunno what your problem is... but you're blocking my car and I need to leave," the next message said. Still nothing. By then a half hour had passed. I pressed on the horn incessantly, until passers-by stopped to offer me advice. I told them the situation.

"Smash her window," someone said. "Scratch her car," another advised. "Get a towtruck," still another said. It was all tempting, but I was never the violent sort. And so I waited. Another hour passed. More calls. More SMSes, and still nothing.

"Go ahead and do the presentation," I told my colleague who was waiting for me at the client's. I wasn't getting anywhere and my blood was boiling. Sure, I could have just gone back up to my office and chill out, but I didn't want to miss seeing this bitch face-to-face just so I can scream at her.

In the meantime, I see suspicious characters coming out of my office building, pretending to look around, and then turning to look at her car. I could only assume that perhaps these guys were her colleagues sent to check if the coast was clear, and if she could safely move her car without anyone yelling at her. I was now even more determined to see this woman!

Finally, my cousin suggested I call the municipal council. Apparently, they can bring a tow-truck around and deal with the problem. Unfortunately, however, it was storming in PJ and the trucks were pretty much grounded that day. But the nice lady at MBPJ offered to call the errant owner of the vehicle that was blocking mine.

It was 5pm and I had waited a full 2 and a half hours. I wasn't leaving without a fight.

The call to MBPJ must have worked. She calls me and puts on this fake apology crap, "Am I blocking your car? I'm sorry... sorry!" But I was having none of her shit. "Just get down here and move your car now!" I screamed into the phone.

She comes along some 2 minutes later, and I finally see this thorn in my side. She had one of those wannabe-high-society-arrogant-and-bitchy-datin-looks, the kind of face that had been fattened and pampered by kickbacks and corruption... well, you know the type. Although this one drove a Proton Persona. She looked so hateful (probably not her fault if she was born that way), and that just drove my anger into overdrive!

"What the hell were you thinking!?!?" I yelled, my face convoluted into what was probably a horrible sight to behold. (Not that I'm the hallmark of beauty, but you know what I mean.)

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she pleaded. "I was in a meeting and I didn't have my phone!" She had the cheek to lie, despite the fact that she actually answered my call much earlier on.

"BULLSHIT!!!" I screamed into her face. "You bloody answered my call but you just REFUSED to come down! I've been waiting for you for THREE BLOODY HOURS!!!"

At that juncture, she was still trying to weasel her way out of with some bullshit story or other, sounding all whiny and snivelly which served only to further aggravate me. I was having none of that.

"Move your *bleep* car now!" I yelled. I dun like yelling profanities at a woman. I had told myself before she came down to refrain from calling her "bitch" in her face, and to omit any f-words I might be thinking about. But in the heat of the moment, I just lost it. I felt a little bad about it even as I said it, but I had a... erm... momentum to maintain. Oh well. Can't say she didn't deserve it.

As she struggled to open her door, I gave her one last good one.

"Don't you EVER park behind my car!!!" I snarled, "YOU UNDERSTAND!?!?" She drove off in a hurry. And that was that.

I would have been a lot more gracious if this had been an honest mistake, if she had really left her phone somewhere else. But this piece of shit actually answered my call. She grunted very rudely when I asked her to move her car, and that in itself is not acceptable. And to top it off, she made me wait almost 3 hours.

People like that must never reproduce.

Last of the True Taste of Taiping

2009-03-26T17:35:00.001+08:00

ckt at its best - charcoal-fried

No prize for guessing what I ate in Taiping last week.

While most Malaysian's are familiar with Penang Char Kuey Teow, not many know of the Taiping variant of the dish. It's very much like Penang's, except ours is far superior. Heh. This is attributed in no small part to the fact that the best stalls in Taiping make their CKT on a good ol' fashioned charcoal stove, lending the dish a nice, smoky flavour. Unfortunately, it's a dying trade. Most hawkers these days take the easy way out with a gas stove.

My favourite place is no longer there. The poor lady who use to ply her trade in Taiping's Greenhouse Area, had been plagued with all kinds of health problems. Last time I was there, she was still recovering from a gallstone removal. These days, she's no longer there, and I fear the worse.

But all is not lost. In the old market square of Pokok Assam, the Fu family is still going on strong, having been here for over 20 years now, doing it the old-fashioned way. Old Mother Fu (heh!) is still doing this, and thankfully for us Taiping CKT lovers, her son, Chong, is taking up the mantle. Not nearly as good as my favourite place, but it's a good enough substitute if you're looking for that authentic Taiping taste. Open from late evenings up till 1:00am, whenever they feel like it. To avoid disappointment, call beforehand.

Go here for the GoogleMap. Call Fu at 012-562 4088.

Mother vs Wife

2009-03-17T09:45:00.001+08:00

"If you mother and I both fell into the ocean," said an ex-girlfriend, carefully articulating her words, "and you could save only one, who would you save?" Hahah. Sure, every girl wants to know this, but it takes a special girl (namely the ones who should be enrolled into a special school) to actually ask it. But yesterday, this scenario played out in reality.

Mom had gotten her cataract removed last week. Between her boys, we all decided that we would take turns going home to care for her, and also to take her. Although cataract removals are far more advanced that ever, with laser technology, faster healing, no bandages and all, no mother can ever have enough of good ol' fashioned TLC. And so, we boys set out to do our filial duty.

I had taken a week off of work for my shift. I was all packed and ready to go when Mae woke up looking like wilted white flower in a shitstorm.

"My stomach hurts," she winced in pain, clasping her enormous belly.

Here I was, on my way to being a good son, and there she was, my wife, expecting me to be a good husband and father. It should have been an easy choice, but I was torn nevertheless.

"Ma, Mae is sick," I told her, my voice wavering in grave concerned, "I'm taking her to the Gynae. I might not be able to come back today."

I hated myself for disappointing her. I had been a shitty son for some years now, and just when I was about to make right with her, this was happening. But Mom, bless her, was bigger than that.

"I'm fine," she said. "Stay home and take care of Mae."

And so I did. I took Mae to Dr. Huam and both mother and baby are fine. Mom's fine too, cos I got Jeff to bring her down to my place so I can watch over all of them. Thankfully, Mom's follow up visit to her doctor isn't due for another couple of weeks. Jesse's happy too since he always looked forward to his Mah-Mah visiting. And so, all is well in the LoopyMeals household once again.

And yeah, back to that loaded question at the start of this post; there is only one correct way to deal with a question like this. Remember you heard it here first. :)

"I'd let the both of you drown," I told the silly arse of a girlfriend "then I can get a new girlfriend, and my mother won't be around to stop me."

EPILOGUE:
"Between my mother and you," I told Mae in mock seriousness, as we drove to the hospital, "I choose you." And despite her unbearable pain, she found the strength to answer me. "You're such an idiot!" But out of the corner of my eye, I saw it - a shit-eating grin from ear-to-ear.

Getting On My Nerves

2009-03-13T17:50:00.001+08:00

bone, drugs & disharmony

This was me last week. Actually, only the x-rays are me. The guy is Dr William Chan and he's showing me the error of my ways. Okay, no. I'm just being dramatic. I was in no way responsible for my own pain.

I got up some weeks ago with a stiff neck. Since I've had stiff neck for as long as I remember, I didn't think much of it cos this kind of stuff usually just goes away on its own. But no. Not this time. After almost a week of pain trying to turn my head, I had the miserable shitty feeling that I was not getting better. And as though I'm not suffering enough, I win a bonus pain in my arm as well.

As it turns out, I have bone spurs on my spine. These are nasty little buggers that grow out of your bones due to wear and tear. For some reason, that has caused one of my discs (that's the rubber jelly washer thing between my cervical vertebrae C5 & C6) to swell a bit. This has cause it to pinch my nerves, which leads to a whole world of pain in my right arm at the bicep-tricep area. This brings fresh meaning to the phrase "getting on my nerves".

I get a week off. Yay. And medicine for 10 days. Boo. And I go back for some comforting therapy. Yay. Which costs RM60 a pop. Boo. But I get goof off at home. Yah. But I gotta do the exercises for my neck. Boo.

So yeah, it's been a roller coaster ride for me.

Anyway, the medicine is long gone. I have also stopped going for the therapy. But it still hurts. And yet, I've decided not to see him again, at least until I can stands it no mores! Doc did hint at other forms of diagnosis and treatment, involving an MRI scan, injection into the spine, surgery, and other painful sounding procedures.

I hate getting old.

Brotherly Love

2009-02-23T16:11:00.001+08:00

On Saturday, we lost Jesse's jacket at the supermarket. The boy taking it off and putting on again, just for the fun of it and somewhere along the way, we must have dropped it.

On the way home, when the reality that his favourite jacket was gone hit him, he started wailing. And quite melodramatically, too. (He gets it from his mother, I swear). To further dramatise his loss, he starts imagining things.

"A baby took my jacket," he sobbed. "I don't like the baby anymore!"

We were a little disturbed that perhaps he might be laying some blame on his little unborn sister in Mommy's tummy. I had read that kids tend to feel threatened by a new sibling.

"You don't like our baby anymore?" I asked our son in the saddest tone of voice I could muster.

"No! It was another baby!" he protested, his crying now toned down a couple of notches. "Baby Madeleine is a good baby," he added assuringly and earnestly, "I love our baby very much."

It was heartwarming to hear that our little boy can have so much love for his little unborn sister. It was like the way we had loved him while we waited for his arrival. It might be a little too soon to tell, but I think they're gonna get along fine.

And incidentally, Big Brother has also decided that his baby sister is going to be named Madeleine because he's convinced that the name is wonderful for her. :) More on that soon.

Bad Moon Rising

2009-02-19T18:07:00.001+08:00

I was reading in the papers today about a sudden appearance of thousands of mudskippers in Gurney Drive. Apparently, some experts think that this is an indication of the cleanliness of the beaches in Gurney.

GEORGE TOWN: Penang’s famed Gurney Drive has a new slippery attraction for locals and tourists – thousands of spotted brown mudskippers can be seen flipping and hopping around the 100m-long mudflat just beyond the embankment wall over the past several months. The presence of the amphibious fish is believed to be a telling sign of the cleanliness-level in the coastline.

So, thousands of these little buggers are here cos it's so clean? Or is there, perhaps, another reason? How about the 400 dead turtles washed up on Bangladesh's beaches just last week?

Dhaka, Feb 10 (APP): Thousands of dead sea turtles are found being washed ashore along the coastal lines from Cox’s Bazar to St Martin’s island in the Bay of Bengal with bruises all over their bodies. The mass circulation Daily Star, quoting locals in Cox’s Bazar reported Tuesday, over 400 female dead turtles have floated ashore over the last two weeks alone. Experts say that these turtles meet their death as they travel the stretch of nearly 120 kilometres from Sonadia Island in Cox’s Bazar to St Martin’s island to lay eggs on the shore.

And it doesn't end there. Hawaii's got some stuff up their beaches too. Although it's a monthly affair, it's a little creepy that suddenly 700 jellyfishes are washed ashore.

HONOLULU - Officials closed Hanauma Bay on Wednesday morning because of the monthly influx of box jellyfish that washed onto Oahu's south shore beaches. About 700 jellyfish were found on Waikiki Beach with another 100 on Ala Moana Beach Park, according to the city's Ocean Safety and Lifeguard Services Division.

I dunno about you, but I'm starting to think that perhaps our seafood is trying to tell us something. Philippines's got a phenomenon too with dolphins.

Manila, Feb 10 (Xinhua) More than 100 dolphins were found stranded at the coast of a northern Philippine town early Tuesday, the local media reported.

It doesn't end there. Dead whale in France! And this was just 2 days ago.

CHERBOURG (AFP) — A French fisherman found the corpse of a humpback whale caught up in his net, excited conservationists said Monday, noting that the species is extremely rare in Channel waters. "It's a historic moment for the region. You could count the number of humpback sightings off France over the past two centuries on your fingers," said Gerard Muger, of the Cotentin Whale Studies Group in Normandy.

And just 2 weeks back, hundreds of live fighting conch shells wash ashore in Florida.

It looked like an amazing phenomenon on Bonita Beach, but it was really just a quirk of nature. Hundreds of live fighting conch shells washed up on the sand this morning. Many were flapping their hard, dark foot as if signaling for help. The shells lined the beach along the dry sand and the wet sand just above the water line while even more rolled in the shallow surf just inches from the beach. “I’ve never seen it like this,” said Paul Salay of Bonita Springs, who said he regularly visits the beach.

I got a bad feeling somethings going down. It's too much of a coincidence for these things to be happening within just two weeks. I remember reading reports of marine life being washed ashore just before the Boxing Day Tsunami of '04, and I'm thinking that perhaps these events over the last couple of weeks may be some kind of warning sign.

I'm staying the hell away from beaches.

Girl Power

2009-02-18T12:54:00.001+08:00

27 weeks and all girl

Last Friday, Doc confimed that we were indeed, without a doubt, looking at a little girl in Mae's belly. 100% sure. So it's no longer just a guess or wishful thinking.

That means we'll be buying plenty of dresses, hair clips, pink stuff, barbie dolls, chastity belt, and other girlie things. Which is a good thing. If we had yet another boy, the poor little guy will no doubt be inheriting a lot of Jesse's hand-me-downs. And the poor kid might feel a little slighted that Daddy and Mommy never gets him anything new. And that would eventually lead to resentment, feelings of inadequacies and expensive psychotherapy bills. So yeah, girl is good.

Also, it'll be a totally new experience for Mae and me. How do little baby girls behave? What do they like? How do they manipulate their parents? What do they eat? It's all very exciting.

Anyway, now that we know, it's time to get cracking on the shopping and stuff. We're steadily collecting a whole repertoire of pink things from mitts to booties, to jumpers, to towels and such. We'll also need to get bottles and diapers and a cot and car seat and playpen. All the ones we bought for Jesse have been either given away or are in bad shape.

Imagine that. A little girl of own, to complement our little family. It's wonderfulicious! Quick, quick, congratulate me again. :)

Valentine & Old Couples

2009-02-17T15:53:00.001+08:00

So yeah. Almost everyone online seem to be calling it Sucker's Day and we're inclined to agree that Valentine's Day is just another excuse for businesses to bleed your wallets.

But Valentine on Saturday was just another Saturday to us. We took the kid to The Curve and let him run loose. Meanwhile, young lovers (and suckers) were everywhere, dressed to the nines lugging around bouquets, gifts and other Valentine paraphernalia. As Mae and I watched with amusement, we were also painfully aware that this part of our lives is now over.

Let's face it. Mae and I are no spring chickens. Pushing 40, married for 7 years with a hyperactive 5-year-old in tow and another in the oven, we don't really get much more alone-time to be together anymore. In fact, it's probably never gonna happen until we ship the kids off to college and stuff. Sure, when Jesse was younger, we could always just dump him at my In-Laws and go for a movie or something, but now that he's bigger, we're never gonna get this past him.

Last Saturday, we took him all over and let him stay at the playground to his heart's content. He had a ball, running up and down like a monkey on speed. By 9pm that evening, the boy was out like a light. And so, after leaving the household under the care of our maid, TheaVy, Mae and I snuck out for our Valentine's Day Dinner. And, having the wisdom of our years (*ahem), we did not submit to the crass commercialisation of the day. There was no bouquet (sorry Honey!), no dressing up, no make-up and no pretenses. Instead, we ended up at our favourite Pokkari haunt in the Chow Kit area, in our t-shirts and shorts.

So there we were, right smack of the seediest side of downtown KL, surrounded by a community of traders, prostitutes, drug addicts and transvestites, backdropped by raging traffic and screeching Mat Rempits. And right there in the midst of it all, we were alone at last. And for a fleeting moment, we were like young lovers once again. Until the night air caused our bones to ache, that is. Okay, I was kidding about that last part! We're not quite that far over the hill yet.

So yeah, Valentine's Day may be Suckers Day to you, but hey, we old couples need this. If only as an excuse to drop everything for a couple of hours and pay attention to each other again. Tragic as that may sound. :)

happy valentine's day

Cookie

2009-02-10T13:12:00.001+08:00

Baby is in her 25th week now and she would be starting to hear right about now. So we talk to her every now and then. And just like we did with Jesse, Mae and I ran some names by our soon-to-be little girl just to elicit a little reaction from her.

"Hey there Baby Madeleine," I called to my baby. "That's Madeleine with the French spelling," I tell Mae, "cos it looks nicer that way." But Baby couldn't care less, or otherwise.

"Then how about Amelie," Mae tried, digging the recesses of her faulty pregnancy-afflicted memory of French movies we had seen. Still nothing. Nothing too for Hayley, Elena, Jasmine and Emily.

"Maybe we oughta try names that have songs written about them," I suggested to the wife. I reasoned that when Baby grew up we could just tell her that there's a song written about her. Heh. But Baby wasn't cooperating with any of it. Not Layla by Eric Clapton, Not Jezamine by the Casuals, Not Amanda by Boston nor Deborah by the Crickets. (Yeah, I'm THAT old!)

Nothing too for the girls of the bible - Rachel, Naomi, Esther and Delilah. Okay, okay, I was kidding about that last one.

"Then I guess we'll just call you Cookie," I proclaimed. And there it was, a kick. Mae repeated the name, and Cookie repeated the kick. So yeah. Cookie, it is.

"You think she'll like cookies?" Mae asked with a chuckle. "I dunno, would she?"

"Well," the wife reminds me, "Noodle likes noodles, remember?" Indeed he does.

Politics

2009-02-05T16:27:00.001+08:00

Let me first declare right here, right now that I am possibly the worst candidate for politics. So, if anytime in the future I should ever attempt to take office anywhere, you can print out this blog entry to make banners or placards to discredit me and destroy my campaign.

I have never seen 10 million bucks in my life. Heck, I've never even seen a million. But I'm pretty sure that if you offered me 10 million buckaroos, I'll gladly jump ship. In fact, for half the amount, on top of defecting, you can spank my ass and call me Mary if that's what pleases you.

Hmm. Maybe I am cut out for politics after all.

Reunion Menu 09

2009-02-03T15:12:00.001+08:00

year of the pig?

What an exhausting Chinese New Year. For the very first time, this year we hosted the Reunion Dinner, and since then, our kitchen had been busy on almost daily basis.

For the reunion, I SMS my siblings the menu:
Today's Reunion Dinner Menu:
1. Salted Vegetable Duck Soup,
2. Crispy Roasted Pork Belly,
3. Buttermilk Prawn,
4. Sweet & Sour Fish,
6. Tan Yoke Lin Famous Fried Chicken,
7. Steamed Free Range Chicken,
5. Roasted Black Pepper Brinjal,
9. Poached Baby Spinach with Oyster Sauce,
8. Stir Fried Mixed Vegetables, and
10. Canned Lychee for Dessert.

It was ambitious, to say the least. Cooking chores were undertaken by Mom, me, Mae and our maid, TheaVy with a little help from my sis, Jo for item no. 8.

Mom's Salted Veggie Duck Soup was a hit, even though she underestimated the amount of salted veggie she would need. She does this a lot, but hates it when I point it out. Hahah.

I got the Siew Yuk recipe from BabeInTheCity which got me started, and got more tips from HappyHomemaker88 who provided a very good step-by-step pictorial approach! It turned out fabulously even though I didn't manage to get a whole slab of pork belly which would have made it so much better. I'd try this again but probably not anytime soon, since my cholesterol levels have probably hit the roof over the New Year season.

The Buttermilk Prawn was disastrous. The prawns we got from the Hypermart weren't fresh and we further destroyed it by not frying it brown enough. And getting the crispy bits of egg yolk right was a feat in itself. Ugh! We'll do better next year, or die trying.

The fish was ok, even though the presentation could have been better. At one point it looked like something you'd feed your cat. But the Sweet & Sour Sauce saves the day by camouflaging it all.

Mom's Famous Fried Chicken is legendary. It's always a hit and it was all gone before the rest of the dinner was done. Everybody loves Mom's fried chicken except for Uncle Eric and Auntie Winnie. We didn't invite them, hahah! However, Mom's steamed kampong chicken didn't get very far. I hate kampong chicken. It's tough and way too skinny to be any good. Imagine chewing on a rubber tyre. Kampong Chicken is worse than that.

The Roasted Brinjal was a little charred, but tasted fantastic all the same. Baby Spinach is a no-brainer as it would take a real doofus to screw that up. Finally, for the Mixed Veggie, our guest chef took over the wok and it was as it should be.

There was so much food we forgot to open the cans of Lychees we had bought. And there was so much work I forgot to take pictures. *sigh* Except for the Roast Pork Belly which I did much earlier in the day. Oh well. Maybe next year.

Que Sera, Sera

2009-02-02T13:42:00.001+08:00

Whenever I put the boy to bed (these days, in his own room), we usually have these profound conversations about life, love and... Bruce Lee. Heh. That's his new idol, in case you're wondering. Anyway, yesterday's bedtime was again, occasion for some talking.

"So what do you wanna be when you grow up?" I asked the boy.

"When I grow up," Jesse carefully articulated, "I want to be a man."

Heheh. At his age, it's all very simple. I was half expecting him to say Bruce Lee or Iron Man or something, but instead, my boy just wants to grow up to be a man.

"Why do you want to be a man?" I chuckled, as I probed him further.

"Because I have short hair," my boy said. I was taken aback a little about his answer, but he was under no pretenses about what a man should look like. Not wanting him to have stereotyped ideas about people and the way they look, I decided to set him straight.

"Men can have long hair too," I countered, reminding him of an old photo he had recently seen of me. He couldn't recognise me under all that hair (which was then falling below my shoulders a little), and when Mommy pointed it out to him, he pretty much laughed his ass off about it.

"Daddy had long hair too, remember?" I reminded my son, "You wanna grow up to be a man like Daddy?"

"Nooooo," he said matter-of-factly, "Daddy was an ugly man!"

I dunno... I'm thinking of putting him up for adoption.

Old Guy

2009-01-22T12:34:00.001+08:00

While waiting for my car to be repaired, I decided to take a quick breakfast at a Mamak Stall. When I got there, a little Chinese old man gestured to me to sit in front of him, and so I did. I have no idea why I did that, thought at the time I thought what harm could it do?

From what little conversation we had, it turns out that this Uncle lives in Jalan Ipoh, and every morning he'd hitch a ride all the way to Jalan Chan Sow Lin. It wasn't much of a conversation, since he didn't answer most of what I asked him but instead offered random bits of information. Like how Chinese New Year was 5 days away. Or how everyone should carry their IDs with them or risk getting arrested.

He also gave me the low down on public transportation fares. RM4.70 gets you on a bus to Seremban. RM70 is you take a cab. RM30 used to take him to Singapore where he used to work. But that was pretty much all the conversation we had, which he kept repeating, like how old folks are wont to do.

A hard-boiled egg cost 70sen at this mamak, so my new friend tells me. He then asks if I would treat him to one, to go with his Roti Canai and Kopi-O Ais. I obliged, of course. After all, how could you refuse a face like this. I did, however, evade when he casually hinted that no one had given him any Angpows for the Chinese New Year. I also took evasive action when he mentioned that he'd like a Chicken Rice lunch later. I thought that perhaps Uncle had identified me as his sucker of the day, for the day. (What can I say, I'm both cheap and cynical!)

When I got up to leave, I decided that I would pay for his whole breakfast and so I gestured the Mamak Guy over and asked him to charge me for Uncle's breakfast as well. But Mamak Guy would have none of it. Turns out that Uncle gets his complimentary Roti Canai and Kopi-O Ais from this Mamak Stall. Every single morning.

It humbled me. And completely restored my faith in mankind. Also made me feel pretty shitty about not buying him a Chicken Rice meal and an Angpow. (Although I rationalised that it was not CNY yet! Heh!)

Perhaps I'll try and bump into him this New Year and maybe give him an Angpow. And if conditions permit, a Chicken Rice meal.

Reunion Again

2009-01-21T12:29:00.001+08:00

Last year, while choking down a totally soul-less reunion dinner at a Chinese Restaurant somewhere in Kepong, I pledged that never again will we submit to the commercialisation of the Lunar New Year. And cut to a year later, Mae and I are in the midst of preparing to host this year's Reunion.

And for the last couple of weeks, all we have been doing is shop, shop and shop. Mini-markets, wet markets, supermarkets and hypermarkets. If there were such a thing as Ultramarkets, we'd have been there too. I have a newfound respect for my Mom who's been doing this year after year after year.

It's crowded everywhere. Everyone's buying stuff and the market folks are making a killing.

Large prawns are RM76 per kilo. That was last week. This week, I'm sure we'll by paying close to RM90. My colleague, Evelyne, buys her prawns 2 months in advance. She cuts them, cleans them, puts them in a container immersed in water and sprinkled with a pinch of sugar and freezes the whole ensemble. That apparently keeps the damned things fresh and springy come New Year's Eve. And she should know, since her family's in the F&B business. But Evil Evelyne decides to share this knowledge only now. So yeah. Evelyne sucks. Heh. Anyway, I'm getting my prawns from Tesco or Giant where it'll be half that price.

Arrowheads, or Nga Ku, is being sold at 36 sen per 100 gms (I think) at the Tmn Megah Market. Giant sells it at 26 sen. And if anyone tells you, "Nah, Giant's arrowheads are not fresh," slap them in the face. Cos it's the same thing. They even come in the same white cardboard boxes. And with that, I've officially joined the Auntie Club of Wet Marketing. You'll know you're a bona-fide member of the club, when you find yourself hanging around and joining in the banter between the likes of the fish guy, the veggie lady and auntie from SS2.

As for the Reunion Dinner, I'm trying to get everyone to hang out at the house from afternoon onwards - to help prepare the food, cos that's half the fun. But knowing the lazy people that I grew up with, they'll probably arrive just in time for dinner.

Maybe I'll spike the dinner. Heh.

Kickin' It Baby Style

2009-01-13T12:41:00.001+08:00

Little Tyke's been at it all night, kicking away at Mommy's belly. By now, she's developed a hearing so we're talking to her every now and then.

We also get Jesse in on the action. But he's not awfully clear of the concept, so he'll bring along his toys to "show" Baby. "Look Baby, this is my Iron Man toy," he'd tell her in his most educational tone, "boys like Iron Man!" It's the cutest thing ever to see him slowly slipping into his big-brother role. He's already decided that he'd wanna carry Baby and bathe her. :)

One night we asked the boy to put his face on Mommy's tummy to speak to Baby. "Go on Jesse," Mae advised, "ask Baby to kick for you."

"Give Korkor a kick-kick, Baby," he cooed in his baby voice. However, Baby wasn't quite ready to do that and so Mommy had to intervene. Mae tensed her stomach muscles to "fake" a baby kick and the boy was all ecstatic, his face glowing in wonderment of getting a response from his little sister.

Yeah, we cheated the little guy. But he was far too thrilled to notice. :)

Medi-Christmas

2009-01-06T15:49:00.001+08:00

'Twas a Tuesday 'fore Christmas, when all through the house,
The wife was moaning, groaning, "Oh, why do I feel louse?"
"In all the merriment, preparing for the season";
"Perhaps you're merely exhausted," I reasoned.

I led her to the room, and tucked her to bed,
And made sure she would get some rest instead;
"In the morning," I said, "You'll be feeling much better"
But as it turns out this was beyond mind over matter.

Came the night before Christmas, we propped Mommy at the table,
And served her a cooking of which we were able,
A dinner of Turkey and sausage and some baked potatoes,
And for colour, we even threw in some tomatoes.

The turkey was dry, and the dinner was quite crappy,
But there was still Christmas morn to make us feel happy;
But unfortunately, even that wasn't to be,
For the next morning her fever shot up a degree.

So we bundled Mommy off to the infirmary,
(But not before we opened some gifts for Jesse);
To the clinic she went and the doctor did gaze,
Upon the sickness that was written all over her face;

"I'm afraid, dear young lady, there will be no respite,"
Doc said, "when an Aedes Mosquito has taken a bite";
So she drew out some blood to quickly confirm it,
And it turned out to be Dengue! Confound it!

We sat there dumbfounded, but the doctor was quick,
To know that it was of our baby, we were worried sick;
"The baby is fine," said the Doc, "Just take care of your wife"
"Feed her 100 Plus and for God's sake, keep her alive!"

So we went home to rest, and I got round to thinking,
Of the doctor's statement, there can be no mistaking;
When I tell you my theory, in me you must trust,
That doctors must be getting commission from 100 Plus.

Yeah, we spent most of our Christmas holidays going in and out of the hospital but it's all good. Both Mae and Baby are fine. Thanks to crates of 100 Plus, coconut water and papaya leaves. And tender loving care, of course.

Beached

2008-12-23T13:45:00.001+08:00

For our vacation this year, we decided it might be nice to go to the beach again. Jesse loves the beach and since Mom was also in town, we took a short break at Port Dickson. This time around, we decided to stay at the Avillion.

all hands on deck

Avillion is lovely little resort in Port Dickson. Accommodations are wooden chalets on stilts. The balcony overlooks the tide, which is always a lovely thing. Jesse spent so much time out on the balcony that we had to keep it lock at nights in case the kid sleptwalk himself out and over. :)

pets galore

Despite being quite old now, Avillion still has plenty of things going for it. There is the chalets, of course. There is the open roof shower for some al fresco showering experience. There's a nice family pool, and one more for adults only. And there's plenty of activities for kids, including a game room, and a nice petting zoo.

beach bum

The highlight for Jesse, however, is the beach. This is a kid who really loves his sand. Thankfully, the staff at Avillion keep their stretch of private beach in great shape - removing ever single shred of rubbish by hand, including dry leaves and junk the ocean washes up. Strangely, however, he refuses to touch the water. Which is not a bad thing since PD water is kinda icky. :)

Two grouses, though. The damn restaurant's too small. Every morning, we have had to wait in line for 30-45 mins just to get a table for breakfast. It's a pain. The other complain is the lack of parking space on the vicinity. We had to park across the road and take a treachrous walk across a busy street just to get back to the hotel.

Anyway, it was a lovely idyllic holiday. Too bad we couldn't afford to stay another night. *sigh*

Sex Talk

2008-12-18T14:52:00.001+08:00

Sorry kiddies, its not that kind of sex talk. :) But seeing as to how family and friends have been speculating about the sex of our 2nd child, I thought I'd talk a little bit about that.

My father is convinced that our new baby would be a girl. "Just look at Jesse," Pops said, pointing to that twist in Jesse's hair where his parting line began. "It's off to the side." Apparently, if a kid's parting starts at the centre of his head, his sibling will be the same sex as he is. At least that what my father says.

Mae has her theories too. "Look at my breakout," she says pointing at her less-than-porcelain complexion. "While boys will give you beauty, girls will rob you of them," says my still-lovely-and-beautiful wife. *Ahem!

Mom is far less scientific. "I think it'll be a girl," she proclaims, "because I'd like a grand-daughter." She then crumbles under the pressure of her own prediction. "Maybe it'll be a girl," she says but only to finally settle for, "I hope it's a girl". Poor Mom had always wanted a girl but fate dealt her a three-of-a-kind Jacks instead, in her real life game of... erm... poker. Heheh.

big brother is watching

Anyway, during our last visit to the doctor, we had spotted a dark shadow between Baby's legs, putting the matter to rest, at least for awhile. Until yesterday, when we visited Dr. Huam again.

We looked intently on the screen as the good doctor carefully negotiated the handpiece all over Mae's tummy. As she did, Baby gave us quite a show, moving arms and legs about, yawning and just plain being cute. At least as cute as a foetus could be. Jesse was thrilled that he was starting to recognise bits of his little sibling on the ultrasound. Then came the highlight.

"I dun see anything there," I said. Doc nodded, "Yup, it looks like it might be a girl." And there was joy and laughter all around. In any case, we'll have to reconfirm on our next visit in January. Who knows, the little tyke may be hiding his family jewels. But as of now, it's a girl.

Good girl!

Moved To Tears

2008-12-02T13:35:00.001+08:00

We have finally moved house over the weekend. And no, it wasn't so much an emotional time, as it was frustrating. I hate moving.

I hate the whole deal about moving. I hate packing. I hate unpacking. I hate carrying stuff. I hate arranging logistics. I hate carrying stuff. Yes, I said that already, but I can never say it enough. I hate carrying stuff. The whole carrying stuff thing leaves an undesirable taste in my mouth, not to mention excruciating pain in my upper back and my heels.

Sometimes I thank God that Mom put me through school and whupped my ass whenever I floundered in school. Otherwise I might have ended up in a job carrying stuff and that would really, really suck balls. (And I don't mean that in a good way!)

But sometimes I ask for it. Despite hiring movers to help me get my stuff, the sight of three elderly guys carrying huge boxes of my crap guilted me into helping out. Unfortunately, I was the only one in my house up to the task. It was either me or my four-year-old son, my pregnant wife, my good old Mommy, or my skinny imp of a maid.

Anyway, the house is a mess, both of them. A lot of out stuff are still in boxes in the new place. Meanwhile, the old place looks like a post-apocalyptic wasteland. You'll be surprised how much junk someone can amass in seven years in a 900sqft apartment. Despite having thrown out bags of stuff over the last couple of weeks, we still have plenty left over to bring to our new home.

As for the new home, it'll be some time before it starts feeling homely. It'll also be awhile before we get around to having curtains. Heh. But, we're settling in. Jesse loves the place. Mom is thinking, maybe she's ready to leave Taiping for good. Thea Vy, our Cambodian maid is thrilled, despite the fact that she'll have twice as much floor to mop. As for Mae and I, this is a home 6 years in the making, and we may even start appreciating the fact once the horror of moving has worn off.

I'd upload some pics but I'm still reeling from the weekend that was. I'm sure I'll get around to it, eventually.

First Dibs

2008-11-12T18:46:00.001+08:00

They say kids will take over your life. And how.

Lately Jesse has impressed upon himself that he, and he alone, is the best person to decide our in-car musical entertainment. While we mostly play the radio in the car, our four-year-old has decided that CDs are better, if only just because he can play the same tune over and over. And over. And over. And over. Well, you get the idea.

One day, Mae was listening to a little Michael CW Smith. Mommy had her mind set on a little uplifting music for the soul, but the boy had different ideas.

"Mommy, can I hear 'Beautiful Day', please?" Jesse said as he handed us our U2 CD, his eyes sparkling with earnest sincerity.

"Mommy needs to listen to some Church music," Mae explained.

"And our Baby-in-the-tummy likes it too," I added, cleverly - or so I thought.

Yes, it was a little emotional blackmail which I thought might appeal to his brotherly love for his soon-to-arrive little sibling. A little under the belt, I know. But I thought that out to neutralise him for the duration of a few songs, at least. That, however, was not to be.

"But, what about Jesse-outside-the-tummy?", our boy enquired wistfully, reminding his lousy parents that their firstborn was right there, in the here and now.

And as the guilt-wracked strains of The Edge's guitar permeated the confines of our little car, our boy sank back into his seat, his face beaming with his toothy grin, as his new rock idol sang the very words that spoke his heart, which was, as Bono put it, abloom.

*sigh* We're never gonna get our radio back, but at least we can celebrate the fact that our boy has great taste in music.

Garlic Man Returns

2008-11-07T11:42:00.001+08:00

Once again, Garlic Man, the caped crusader of the culinary condiment comes a-calling. And along for the ride, his new trusty sidekick, Garlic Boy! Poor Mommy doesn't stand a chance.

Last weekend, I take the boy for a day out, just to give Mae a little peace and quiet. In her current condition, she's really not up to moving about and so Daddy takes over entertaining the boy. After a long day out, father and son, with maid in tow, decide to sit down to a nice meal of Teppanyaki.

Jesse hardly ever eats, and so when he started digging into his Chicken Teppan, I was elated. I was even more so, when he started walloping those lovely crispy garlic bits that come with every serving of Teppanyaki. My boy was eating everything now!

Unfortunately Mae doesn't share my enthusiasm.

"You fed the boy garlic?" Mae groaned, her face pale with disgust, "I can smell it off of the both of you." And this, despite the fact that we had showered and brushed our teeth.

And so, there was no love that night. Garlic boy slept and arm-length from Mommy while Garlic Man enjoys his newfound singlehood on the living room couch. *sigh*

Hanging In There

2008-10-29T21:59:00.001+08:00

We decided to go back to Dr. Huam, after a bout of bleeding. "Let's take a look," said Doc, as she fired up the Sonograph. By then, Mae and I were practically turning blue holding our breaths over the condition of our baby. We were worried.

The screen flickered as Doc moved the handpiece over Mae's tummy, trying to detect Baby.

Suddenly, the little tyke appeared onscreen and started threshing about, waving hands and kicking feet. "Lookit me, Daddy and Mommy!!! Look!!" Junior called out from the depths of Mommy's womb, as Mommy and Daddy stared at the monitor, bewildered at the amount of activity a 10-week-old could manage. It was like our child was reassuring us.

"Hey Doc," I asked, "think we could see the sex yet?"

"Oh, let's try," Doc responded enthusiastically, as she repositioned the scanner. As she did, I spotted it. There in between the little fella's legs was a little silhoutte. "It could be the umbilical cord," Doc reassured, thinking that perhaps Mae and I would be disappointed. But no, the wife and I stared at each other, grinning like a couple of well-fed hyenas. Boy or girl, we're gonna love this one to bits too, just like we do his big brother. :)

And no, it probably isn't the umbilical cord. Because, I could have sworn I saw a couple of nuts in that equation. Heheh.

No Easy Ride

2008-10-23T12:12:00.001+08:00

Mae is not having an easy time with our new baby.The morning sickness is as bad as it's ever been and she at it all times of the day. Whoever decided to call it Morning Sickness anyway? I'll wager it's a guy. *sigh*

Smells bother her terribly too. Our new place is ready but we can't move in just yet cos the smell of new paint makes her quite sick. The smell of her husband also makes her sick. Thankfully, she's only complained once. On the plus side though, she has a voracious appetite and wants to eat everything. But then, the down side to that up side, is that she pukes it all out after. *sigh*

There's also been a little bleeding. Perhaps a little too often for our liking. And the stress at her job isn't helping. Hopefully our baby will stay strong. :(

Hero Worship

2008-10-21T15:04:00.001+08:00

Boys will be boys. We like our heroes and we wanna be them. Jesse started off with Spiderman. He'd sing the theme song, wear the costume and play the toys. Then he progressed to Superman - to the extent of ripping off his shirt in public too. Heh. Then it was Batman. Then it was Ultraman.

I'm really not as excited as I look. Promise.

Ultraman lasted for quite awhile too. To the point where Mommy and Daddy were chasing Ultraman around town, when he made his appearance here some months back. We paid good money and lined up like idiots just for a shot with Jesse's hero. Bought him plenty of Ultraman toys too. Thankfully these are relatively cheap if you get the el-cheapo China-made knock-offs. Then suddenly, lo and behold, he's onto something else.

"Daddy, can you buy me an Iron Man mask?" Jesse enquired. "And also Iron Man shirt?" the boy added. I haven't seen these anywhere. And besides, even if they were available, they'd be frickin' expensive. "Daddy will make you a mask," I countered. And as quickly as I had said it, I forgot all about it. But not the boy. Kids are like elephants. They never forget.

"Serves you right for making promises," the wife mocked. And so I ended up putting in some overtime at the office last night keeping my promise. Heh. Anyway, I cheated a little on the construction, but I intend to make it up someday. Hopefully, before he's on to the next thing. Still, he's all hyped-up about it. Even gave me a hug of appreciation. :)

Tony, Tony, Bo-Bony...

Oh, BTW, you hardly ever hear girls say they wanna be Wonder Woman or anything. But I once had a cousin who did proclaim with conviction, "I wanna be Wonder Woman!" Today, he's turned out to be a very gay and happy man. But I'm sure that was purely coincidental. *ahem*

And hey, eat some Goofy Pills.

Humour

2008-10-16T15:44:00.001+08:00

Mae and I have been consciously prepping our boy for the arrival of his new baby sister or brother. And we decided, it might be cool to include him in some of our decisions pertaining to our coming attraction.

"What name would you like to give our new baby?" I ask Jesse, half expecting him to say "Ultraman Dyna", or "Tony Stark". But that was not to be.

"Ethan!" he answers. A little too decisively for a four-year-old, I thought. Mae agreed. And so she pressed on, "Why?"

"So that Jesse can ask him," our little boy carefully articulates, "have you Ethan? (eaten)". And he proceeds to laugh his ass off at the little joke he made.

"See?" Mae scowls at me, "this is the kind of stuff you teach him."

I was, of course, guilty as charged. I said that to him that one day when he came home from visiting his little cousin, Baby Ethan. He thought it was hilarious. And now he's decided to return the favour.

I had taught my boy humour. Am I cool or what? :)

First Look

2008-10-14T15:56:00.001+08:00

making a first impression

I gotta confess, both Mae and I had been so busy lately, we've been neglecting the new little one. We haven't really been thinking about what's happening inside. I suppose its all this familiarity of having gone through it all with Jesse, so perhaps the enchantment's not there anymore.

Even our visits to the doctor were very, erm, controlled. No sudden bursts of emotions. No stammering to talk. No nervous pacing in the waiting room. No gazing into each other's eyes in wonderment. Mae and I were just very composed.

And then, we saw her for the very first time on the sonogram. And suddenly I was reduced to a blustering idiot. "Look, look, look, th-th-that's her heartbeat!" I said to Dr. Huam, grinning from ear to ear. "Yes, you idiot, I know. It's my job, remember?" she replied impatiently. "Now getouttahere and stop getting spittle all over my expensive sonograph!"

Ok, so she didn't actually say that in words. But I could read her mocking eyes.

Anyway, all of a sudden, it all seems so real. All 22mm of her. And her tiny little heart thumping away. And only just 8 weeks and 6 days old yesterday. Brings a tear to my eye just thinking about it.

Weaning

2008-09-22T15:13:00.001+08:00

Chinese people are obsessed with weaning their kids.

When you successfully wean your kids off the pacifier, or the bottle or the diaper; old Chinese relatives will come up to you, shake your hand and lead you to your place in the hallowed halls of parenthood whereupon your name will be inscribed upon hugh marble tablets and displayed for the whole village to see.

On the other hand, if your child is at the ripe old age of 4 and still on the bottle and diaper, you will bring shame to your entire clan and distant relatives in an old forgotten shanty in the remotest part of China will commemorate this disgrace annually by thumping their heavy wooden clogs on a photograph of you.

Jesse turned 4 just last month but he still very much on the bottle and he needs his diaper at night. We decided early on to lay off his case and let things take their natural course. Besides, he's our little boy and we're not really rushing for him to grow up.

But last night, our little boy comes to that all-important decision. "Diapers are for babies," he proclaims out loud. "Jesse is a big boy already." And just like that, our boy is off the diaper. No fuss, no muss. His parents, however, are having trouble adjusting. Last night we slipped a plastic sheet under him, just in case. We also got up countless times to check the sheets. But no, he didn't need none of that. He was all good and ready.

Hmm... maybe next week, he'll stop using the bottle.

Heya

2008-09-16T20:03:00.001+08:00

September 16, 2008. Elsewhere, life goes on... :)

Quickie Updates

2008-08-19T16:18:00.001+08:00

Been MIA from the blog again, so here's some quick updates.

SICKLY BOY
Jesse's been sick a lot lately. Coughing like an old man. So much so, he actually puked a couple of time. One time, his Grandpa was buying us dinner at San Francisco Steak House and the boy was enjoying an ice cream dessert when he suddenly wailed. I knew at once he was gonna puke. I told Mae to take him to the toilet but the poor boy never made it. Thankfully he hurled right outside the toilet door, away from the other diners. I carried him afterwards and as he clutched on to me, he looked up at me all teary-faced and ask, "Daddy, what's wrong with me?" Broke my heart to pieces.

RENOVATIO
We're moving. And hence, renovating. It's a pain in the ass, especially if you're a nitpicky bastard like me. I can't decide if I want the wardrobe 6 inches wider, or the lightswitches half an inch lower, or the sink an inch to the right. These things bug me so much that I bring a measuring tape to bed with me, just so I can think about it. My indecision should cost me a lot of wasted time. But my contractor doesn't really give a damn, so it all works out in the end. Bleh.

NEW MAID
Anie's gone. By Thursday she will be out of our lives, and quite prematurely too. The sneaky girl somehow managed to secretly buy herself a mobile phone and kept it hidden for months. Turns out she had been calling up some guy at a minimarket near our home. It was all very clandestine and we're a little concerned. If she had been calling home, we might have been more understanding, and perhaps more forgiving. We decided she was a security risk and that she should leave. But at the same time, we feel sorry about sending her away. She's like family. Just family with secrets. *sigh* Jesse will be devastated.

PROJECT BLOG
As if I dun already suck at updating, I've been thinking about a new blog. One little space for the little projects I do - like decorating and renovating. And designing. And craft. We'll see. Maybe I'll procrastinate my way out of this one too.

PHOTOS
This could be a much nice blog if I can get off my ass long enough to scan some photos, or even to download them from my camera. Ugh. I have shots of Jesse and me with Ultraman Max. I got pictures of my contractor. I have shots of Jesse doing homework and it's really cute too. Heh. I suck at blogging. Oh, I said that already.

That's all folks. Till next time.

Hurled

2008-08-07T15:37:00.001+08:00

Last night, Jesse blew chunks. And right in our bed too.

According to Einstein's lesser known Theory of Abdominal Regurgitation™, the Ickiness index™ of human vomit increases exponentially with the age of the said human. In his infancy, a typical human child, during the occasion of any random gastrointestinal expulsion, will expel a projectile that is low on the Ickiness Index™. The quality of the said vomit will be of a transluscent white liquid, fluid consistency that emits a pleasant aroma - often associated with babies and breakfast cereal.

As the human child progresses in age, his projectiles will be higher up the Ickiness Index™ demonstrating a thicker consistency often coupled with solid masses. The colour will also be darker usually with a spectrum of hues, and the odour unbearable.

The poor boy must have drank a little too much milk. He'd gone to sleep for almost an hour when he started coughing and hacking. And the next thing we knew, the boy's supper was making a comeback. He sat up on bed looking all groggy and disoriented after the first wave, and I quickly recognised that as the calm before the storm.

I lifted my t-shirt up to his face and he let loose all over it. We quickly gave him a wipe down and a change of jammies and he went back to bed as though nothing had happened.

Meanwhile, Daddy spent the next hour (almost, I kid you not) spraying the gook off the sheets and the shirt. It was a light brown gelatinous liquid with half-digested Nyonya Kueh, corn kernels and a bloody blueberry. And it refused to come off.

Gross. And yeah, it's gonna get worse. *sigh*

Feeling The Love

2008-07-25T17:05:00.001+08:00

Today, it was my turn again to pick Jesse up from school. I was running 15 minutes late and was still only on the way. And so I call the wife for a consult.

"Oh my God," the wife mocks me. "You're such a lousy father!" she said with an evil cackle. She was having a field day getting back at me.

Meanwhile, I was a little worried that my boy might start to panic when I didn't show up at 11:45 am. People say kids have this inner clock that tells them when their lousy fathers are late, which in turn launches them into a panic attack. But thankfully, Jesse was all happy and cheery when he saw me. But I figured I would explain myself anyway.

"Daddy was doing so much work," I explained. I further went on to assure him I did the best I could. He listened intently. "Daddy ran to the car like a crazy person and quickly drove here to pick Jesse up!"

He looked up at me, whimpered like a grateful little puppy and cradled my left arm, nesting his head upon it appreciatively. Then he smiled as he repeated after me, "Daddy ran like a crazy person to pick Jesse up". And with that little gesture I could truly feel the love.

My little boy loves me for just showing up. *sniff*

True Lies

2008-07-22T09:45:00.001+08:00

"Ko-Ko Norman kicked me," Jesse lamented, "and I'm very upset."

Mommy had taken Jesse along with her to a friend's place and our little boy had been looking forward to it all day. Norman is 3 years older than Jesse, but he's a sweet little boy who had always accommodated Jesse. That is, until yesterday. Apparently.

"Norman didn't kick," Anie, our maid explained. As it turns out, Norman didn't touch our boy. He had merely refused to let Jesse play with one item in his stash and our son was miffed. I turned to Mae for confirmation and despite not being on the scene, she too felt that was probably what happened.

This troubles me.

Is our son framing Norman? Was Jesse so pissed off that he decided to seek revenge by framing an innocent kid? Where did he even learn to do that? He's barely 4!! Or could there be some truth to his story? I questioned him over and over and yet, he maintains his story.

I'm at a loss at how best to handle this. What if he was telling the truth? Shouldn't a father give his own son the benefit of the doubt? On the other hand, if I did believe him and he was lying, would this be the start of his life of crime?

*sigh* I don't know what to do. Maybe a little Chinese Water Torture will get some truth out of the boy.

Up Yours (Anwar's Song)

2008-07-17T13:58:00.001+08:00

Hey assmonkeys, here's a song for today to go with your serving of Famous Anus (see previous entry). Sung to the tune of "I'm Yours" by Jason Mraz. Oh BTW, if you think Mraz sounds like "more ass", I'm sure it's just coincidence. So, anybody wants to make an MTV? :)

UP YOURS (Anwar's Song)

Well you done done me and you bet I felt it
I tried to be chill but you got me ar-rest-ed
You said I saw your crack
And that I've been at your back
Before your stools done run out
You'd been up to your worst-est
Nothing's woulda stop me but divine in-ter-vent-ion
And then came the guys in black - bala-cla-vas and guns

(And) now I'm back in jail, oh no, oh no
I have to say, "Up Yours"

I said open your mind and see like me
But you opened up your ass for the world to see
Did you sell your butt to get love love love love?
Did they get to you and offer you for-tune and fame
And did they make you fa-mi-ly?
Why you did it, only God knows knows knows

I won't he-si-tate no more, no more
I gotta say, "Up Yours"
(Don't) take this lit'rally, oh no, oh no
When I tell you, "Up Yours"

BRIDGE:
Do-do-do-do-do-you, would I do-do-do-do you
Do you think I'm horny
Scooch on over further dear
Someone will play with your rear.
So-de-bop-bop, Whoaa....

I've been doing too much for too long, to be back in the slammer
You bending over forward just to try to get me closer
To get me to pop your ass - that just makes me laugh
I guess what I be saying is I have no de-sire
To rape your sorry ass and set my own on fire
If that's my plan, I won't run for P-M

(And) now I'm back in jail, oh no, oh no
I have to say, "Up Yours"

I won't he-si-tate no more, no more
I gotta say, "Up Yours"
Don't take this lit'rally, oh no, oh no
When I tell you, "Up yours"

Flavour Of The Month

2008-07-04T10:09:00.001+08:00

Ahem.

In other ass-related news, I have a cousin whom we sometimes call Anal Rampage. I can't remember why, but I think it had sometime to do with some porn we found in his keeping. We stopped calling him that for years now cos we eventually moved on to other things, but with all that's been going on lately, I feel inspired to reunite the boy and his name. :)

And that's the end of that subject. I know I'm a little behind time on this one, but hey, what are you gonna do? Anyway, I'll be back. And I mean that from the bottom of my heart.

I could go on. But I'll spare you.

Forgotten

2008-06-26T18:04:00.001+08:00

It was a dreary Tuesday afternoon and I was on the way to a client when I decided to call Mae.

"So how was Jesse today when you picked him up?" I asked the wife.

"What!?" she replied. "Didn't you say you were gonna pick him up!?!?" She was all in a flurry now. By now, my voice resonated with shock and concern. "But... but you said you would," I stammered.

"Wait a minute," I regained composure, "you're kidding me, right? You picked him up, right?"

"NooOooOo I didn't!!!" she shrieked in panic. It was 3 o'clock and we had forgotten to pick up the boy from school. The poor kid was probably feeling like his parents had abandoned him.

Or so it seemed. Heh.

Every now and then, I do take some time off from work to pick the boy home from school, whenever Mae and her mom can't do it. I enjoy it. And of course, every now and then, I also enjoy taking some time off my busy schedule to screw with the wife's head. Heheh. She loves it when I do it.

You can almost hear the affection in her voice when she said, "Don't ever do that to me again, you ass!"

Hahaha.

Kungfu Healing

2008-06-18T17:54:00.001+08:00

I've had a pain in my back for years now . It isn't so much a pain as it is an annoyance - y'know that feeling that something just ain't right? So, last year I decided to visit a Chiropracter.

I went into the room for a consultation, and got just that. Mr Fancy Pants Chiropractor made me stand up, sit down, and touched my back gingerly, and ascertained that I needed to have my spine straightened. "But not before you get an X-Ray," he advised as he wrote out a prescription for an X-Ray which I would have to get from a lab somewhere else. "Thereafter," he continued in his upper-crust, schoolmasterly tone, "you come back here and we can get started." But I would have to come back yet another time before he would treat me.

So it was, one trip for a consultation, one trip to the x-ray, one trip to get Bones to look at my X-ray, and finally a trip to get my back fixed. "One more thing," he added as I headed out the door, "treatment will be over the course of a few visits!" With that, I decided then that I would suck it up and live with it instead.

Then, my brother Jeff introduced me to his friend, Erik. Erik's father had been the founder of Hap Kune Do style of martial arts, and junior had picked up the family trade. Here was a guy who could kick your ass out of its joint and pop it right back for you. You'll be surprise how much kungfu he's got hidden behind that cheery demanour of his.

It was amazing. He cracked my entire spine with a couple of his kungfu moves and then some. That was Saturday. Yesterday, I went for one more round and I'm all good now. But most of all, I love how it was all a straight-shooting, no-bullshit, man-to-man deal. This is what the world needs - instant relief. Not more appointments.

Got a bone out of place? Look Sifu Erik up. RM 60 only.

Malacca

2008-06-11T20:07:00.001+08:00

I've been to Malacca a few times, but I can never find my way around. That, in itself, is an adventure. I once turn circles in Malacca for a couple of hours before I could find my way out of the damn place, but that is a story for another day. Today, photos!

Jeff was in Malacca for work and so he joined us. He claims to know his way around but the best he could manage for a dinner venue was the Malacca Chicken Rice Balls. Unfortunately it was the tourist trap place instead of the good one across the street which was closed at night. The dinner was crap. Jeff sucks. But Jesse loves him, so we let him stay on. :)

For our after-dinner entertainment, we got aboard the Taming Sari Tower. It was basically a vessel revolving around a long pole some 10 storeys up. It beats the crap out of riding on a glorified ferris wheel, I'm sure.

The following day, the wife cleverly suggests the zoo and from that point on, Jesse was determined to visit the zoo even if it killed his father doing it. The zoo is 3 times the size of Taiping Zoo, but alas, only half as pretty (though Mae insists it's better). We walked our legs off for two hours.

That night, Jeff redeems himself by taking us to the Portuguese Settlement for seafood. We invited Jason Mumbles to join us, but he had to work. Thankfully he gave us a good tip. Eat only at Stall No. 1. Stall No. 1 is the Sea Terrace and everybody eats here. Stalls numbers 2-10 try their darnest to get us to eat at their place. One guy from no. 6 even claimed to be from Sea Terrace. Sneaky bugger.

The Portuguese make some excellent crabs. This one's a Pepper Roasted Crab. It was so delicious I ate two whole crabs on my one. Reminds me of a time when I fell for a Portuguese girl back at school. Except that she gave me lots of crap, instead of crabs. Hah. Look, I made a lame joke.

On the last day, we decided we would do the whole tourist thing. We visited the Flor Del Mar. Then the A'Famosa. And then everybody got tired. Jesse never gets tired, so Daddy takes him and Kakak Anie up the hill to see St. Paul's Church. Meanwhile, Mommy and Grandma wait at the foot of the hill.

St. Paul's Church was cool. Despite the fact that everyone died and the place was in shambles, you could almost feel the richness of it's history. I was choking with emotion looking at the ruins. Okay, I lied. That was the heavy buffet we had at Everly Hotel.

After that, we proceeded to the Museum of Islamic Civilization. There, they dedicated an entire wing to display our elections - complete with election paraphernalia and photos, as though our electoral process was anything worth celebrating. *ahem*

After that it got pretty late, so we left for home. And that was our Malacca trip. Jesse enjoyed it so much, he wants to go back to Malacca. But for him, Malacca just meant Everly Hotel where Daddy took him swimming. :)

Idiot Char Kuey Teow

2008-06-03T17:03:00.001+08:00

There's a roadside stall in Taman Bukit Maluri, Kepong, where a husband and wife team serves up a pretty good Char Kuey Teow among a few other things on his menu. So good that their signboard audaciously reads, "Famous Fried Kui Teow" - weird spelling and all. Which is fine, except that the guy who fries the noodle really annoys the crap out of me. On most days, he can whip up a good Char Kuey Teow, but some days it can all turn to shit.

Case #1
Some days the guy runs out of shrimps or fails to get them at the market. This annoys me no end. How a CKT guy can run out of shrimps is really beyond me. To make matters worse, he doesn't tell you. Instead, he substitutes with chicken meat. Who the hell puts chicken in Char Kuey Teow!??!

Case #2
There have also been ocassions where the guy just takes off in the middle of the morning. Sometimes to take a dump. Other times, just to take a walk. Now believe me, I can deal with this. In anticipation of good food, I have been known to display the perserverance and patience of a monk. What I cannot deal with is when the wife decides to fill in for her man. She fries Kuey Teow as if she were flogging her stepchild. "Let's fry this bastard until it's all limp and lifeless!" *sigh*

Case #3
Today is the most annoying. Now I've always known this guy to have a short attention span. You can tell when you talk to him. But c',mon-lah, it takes no more than 3 minutes to fry a good plate of Char Kuey Teow. Can't you just stay focused for just 180 seconds, dammit!??

..........

Today, I'm sitting there patiently waiting for him to do his thing. It's 8am and I'm the only customer at the time. He starts by frying some garlic. The fragrance wafts through the air, teasing my palate. Next, he throws in a few fresh shrimps and I hear the rhythymic crackle of the boiling oil in his wok. It's all going beautifully when suddenly, an idiot shows up and starts up a conversation with the guy.

"Excuse me, where do you get your cooking gas from?"

And Mr. Famous Fried Kui Teow decides to entertain him, ignoring the wok. My breakfast was at risk and an idiot wants to know where the gas comes from, and stupid Kuey Teow man thinks that the conversation is more important than my breakfast. Who the hell cares about gas!?!?!? Meanwhile, my Char Kuey Teow overcooks in the wok.

"Hey, you cook first, we can chat later," the idiot tells the guy. But no sooner than that, as the CKT Man turns his attention back to his job, the idiot pops another question. And another. And another. And my Char Kuey Teow goes to hell from this point on. The guy scoops up everything on to my plate and suddenly realises that he had forgotten to add in the cockles. And so my overcooked CKT goes back into the wok for another round of torture.

By the time I get it, everything is dried and overcooked. The beansprouts are limp, the shrimps are harden, the cockles dry and the egg burnt. It annoyed the shit out of me, but I ate it anyway, cursing every mouthful. Seriously, if you cannot stay focused on your job for more than 3 minutes you have no business selling Char Kuey Teow. Sell Maggi Mee or something. It cooks in 2 minutes.

If you haven't already guessed it, CKT is a big deal to me. OK. Rant over. Regular programming resumes. :)

Another Quickie

2008-05-26T13:01:00.001+08:00

Been behind in my blogging so here's another round of shorties:

SCHOOL'S OUT
Since it's gonna be a long break, we decided to take some time off for a quick vacation. Nothing fancy - just a 3D/2N at Malacca by the beach. The boy's been re-enacting our last holiday by the beach, so we thought we'd cut him a break and actually bring him back to the surf and sand. Poor kid's been going around with his spade and bucket pretending to bury himself in the sand.

INDY'S BACK
Mae and I snuck out to see this last Friday. It's cool seeing Indy back in action. I came out entertained, but not sure if I liked it very much or just a little. Sean Connery should have come back. *sigh*

MOVING HOUSE
It had to happen some day and from the looks of things, probably in August or September. The place is much bigger, though still very much a condo. Renovation and furnishing will sap away all our savings. But a little change is good. We are preparing to transition Jesse into his own room. So far, he seems enthused by the idea.

XM IN THE SHOP
My beloved old junk, Citroen XM is in the shop again. Sent it in early in the year to do some wiring, despite it not really needing any repairs. Busy (and overly laid-back) mechanic took some three months to sort out the wiring and when I got it back, something didn't work quite right and now it's back in the shop. Been a month now. *sigh* I deserve this. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. I don't know why I do these things to piss myself off.

ULTRAMAN
Jesse's into Ultraman these days. He wants an Ultraman suit but the don't sell them anywhere. Thank God for small miracles. So far he's got Ultraman figurines. In various sizes. He's got the DVDs. He's got the pyjamas. Books. Stickers. He's even got an Ultraman watch. And that thing that let's him turn into Ultraman. (Back in my day, we called it the Beta Capsule).

NETTED A GNAT
I've been selected to participate in a product trial. Today, someone's coming to install a GNAT set-top box in my home. It's supposed to work like the Astro Max, but I hear its way cooler. To be honest, I'm not really sure what it does. Somebody asked me if I wanted one. "Is it free?" "Yup!" "Okay, I'll take two!" Nah. I'm getting only one. But hey...

OK, that's it. Thank you for reading another episode of Loopy Meals.

Testing

2008-05-23T14:00:00.001+08:00

mugging for the exam

This week was Jesse's last week of school for the term. It was also the week of his first school exam. He's only just four, but already in his second year at school and now taking his first exam ever.

"I'm not gonna make him study," Mae announces all week before the big day, "He's only four lah". But like any self-respecting soccer mom, she makes a last-minute, about-turn, the night prior to D-day. Thankfully, Jesse enjoys his school work, so he happily (even though the photo looks otherwise) agreed to Mommy's suggestion for a quick revision.

Despite telling myself that this was just a small little Kindie test, by the following morning, I was worried sick about my boy. I wasn't so concerned about his results as I was about how he'd deal with not knowing answers, if that should ever happen. How would he feel about it? What would he do? Would he get creative and start copying his friends' work? Would I be upset that he cheated? Or would I be proud that he dealt with it? Heh.

I would have thought all my exam-related anxieties left me when I left school. But it seems they have returned to haunt me. I loathe exams with a vengeance. I remember for months after my STPM exam, I woke up in the middle of the night screaming. But that is a story for another day.

Wisdom Teeth

2008-05-05T19:32:00.001+08:00

Last week, Mae and I visited a dental and maxillofacial specialist. You see, my poor wife's lower wisdom teeth never quite came out. Instead of growing upwards like all clever teeth should, these guys decided to grow sideways into the rest of the others. As you can imagine, this causes some discomfort and at times, immense pain.

Unfortunately for Mae, her teeth are resting on her nerves, making their removal quite a complicated procedure. In fact, most dentists she saw had recommended Dr. Ling as the man for the job. We were worried. What if a slip of the hand severs the nerve and Mae ends up with a paralysed jaw? What if a wrong move gave my poor wife a crooked face?

"The worse case scenario," according to Dr Ling, "is that you will have a numb sensation on your lips all your life." According to the good doctor, the risks are not terribly high, only 5-10%. And the chances of healing from such an event is 98%.

"Then she won't feel anything when you kiss her," said my colleague Rat, later that day.

"Is that all you women think about?" I said. Mae had said the exact same thing when we left the clinic, and I had told her as I told Rat, that there were more important things than kissing.

"What else is there?" Rat enquired.

I just gave her a shit-eating grin that spoke volumes. Heh. Despite my best efforts to prove otherwise, I'm afraid I'll have to concede that, like all men, I was just another bastard. :)

Jesse & The Chocolate Factory

2008-04-29T18:43:00.001+08:00

"Daddy," my boy asked of me last week, "do you want to go to the chocolate factory?"

I was fascinated. Partly because Jesse was adept at articulating himself; but mostly because we were going to a chocolate factory. Then, my mind swirled in a vortex of endless free-flowing, creamy chocolate syrup as I drifted into caramel-flavoured, candy-coated, sugar encrusted fantasy factory, whereupon a tall flamboyant gentleman (who looked suspiciously like Johnny Depp) in a purple suit and top hat greeted me.

"They're just going to the Beryl factory," Mae said very matter-of-factly. "It's that local chocolate brand," she added. Mae has this unique gift of making the most enchanting journey sound mundane. You'd think she was force-fed chocolates as a kid. Heh.

"Do parents get to go?" I enquired. It was, after all, a field trip organised by Jesse's kindergarten, but I remained hopeful.

"Yes," the wife replied, "but do you really think we should?" Despite the fact that she too was considering it, Mae reasoned that Jesse would stick to us if we did indeed go. That would deprive our clingy little boy the experience of enjoying the trip with his little friends. *sigh* Besides, most of the other parents weren't going.

And so, tomorrow, Jesse goes to a chocolate factory. Meanwhile Daddy will stay at work wondering what it would be like to visit a chocolate factory.

Kids today have all the luck. When I was a kid, my teacher took us on a field trip to a shitty little farm where we saw cows and stepped in their shit. OMG, I think I hate my childhood. :P

Sold on Stem Cells

2008-04-11T10:41:00.001+08:00

A couple of weeks back, I got a call from Sharon Low, the founder of StemLife. When she introduced herself, the first thought on my mind was, "Oh shit!"

"The first thing I want to say," she started, "is that everything is ok and the stem cells are fine."

Heh! Mae and I had stored Jesse's cord blood with StemLife when he was born. And if anything were to happen to our deposit, I would be devastated. The woman read me like a book. She was also spot on that I might want to attend a lecture on stem cell research entitled, "Applications of Stem Cells in Malaysia - Are We Ready?" What can I say, I'm a science geek, info-junkie and all-round nerd. It's either that, or her casual mention of "free dinner". :)

So yeah. Mae and I will attend this event tonight and by tomorrow, hopefully I'll be something of an expert in stem cell research. And perhaps you have a review here. Remember you heard it here at Loopymeals.

ADDED: 14 Apri 2008, 7:51am

On Friday I had a meeting scheduled at 3:00pm. I figured I would have plenty of time to get thru the meeting, go home and get spiffed up and still make it to Renaissance at 6:30pm for cocktails. Jesse was already safe at my Mother-In-Law's. It was all quite perfect.

Except, I only managed to get off work at 7:00pm. When I got home at 8:00pm, Mae was all dressed up, all made up and quite fed up. *sigh* Work is killing me. And in more ways than one.

Unremembered

2008-03-26T10:47:00.001+08:00

carbon copy?

I've been away from home too long.

There was the whole crazy couple of months of nights in the office. There was the company trip to Bali. And even when I touched down at KLIA on Monday at 6:30am, I came right back to work shortly after. And I have been at work since.

Last night was an all-nighter. And right about 6am this morning, I started to lose my mind a little, so I took a stroll around the office building. As I did, I thought about my little family. There was Mae, the wife. Long hair. Lovely complexion (most times). Strong nose. Nice eyes. Tall, almost my height. Slender. And sexy, as long as she doesn't wear those purportedly comfortable but definitely hideous checquered shorts she likes to wear at home.

Then I thought about Jesse. And suddenly, my mind just drew a blank. The wheel was stuck and the hamster inside was probably dead. I thumped the side of my head to reboot. I tried Alt-Ctrl-Del but nothing worked. Try as I might, I couldn't remember what my poor little boy looked like. Not at all. I got the name right, but the face just wasn't registering.

I panicked.

Thankfully I always kept a couple of his passport photos in my wallet. I flipped the billfold and there he was, just like I (can't) remember him. And then I quickly went back to my computer to look at our shots together.

*sigh* I don't think I can make up. Not ever. Looks like I'm gonna be wrapped around his little finger for eternity.

I gotta get my ass home.

Bali Mali

2008-03-20T07:42:00.001+08:00

I'm going to Bali. It's a company trip, so Mae and Jesse won't be coming along.

I hate the thought of leaving them behind, while I frolic in the sun and surf, and the guilt of that will probably make me miserable throughout the 4 days and 3 nights. Because it's a company trip, we've been working our asses off the last couple of weeks, so needless to say, I've been at the office a lot. Which left me little time to adequately prep the boy, so I'm not really sure how he's gonna take it.

I never thought I'd say it, but I kinda don't feel like going.

Police State

2008-03-18T21:55:00.002+08:00

Three years on and I'm turning out to be a shitty father.

Jesse is a good kid, by my standards. (Which isn't saying much, since I have always had plenty of tolerance for kids.) He doesn't demand for stuff, throw a tantrum in public, or behave like a little A-hole when he doesn't get his way. In fact, he's usually obedient and quite the charming kid. But that's all out the window when it comes to eating, and sometimes, school.

"If you don't eat your lunch," I'd threaten, "the police will come and catch you!"

Right about then, he'd usually look over his shoulder suspiciously, to make sure there are no cops about, afterwhich, he'd proceed to eat like a normal human being. It works for days when he doesn't want to go to school. He'd be crying and throwing a fit. Until his impending arrest.

"If you don't go to school," I'd tell him, "the police will come and catch you!"

And instantaneously, whiny-boy becomes shiny-boy.

When Jesse was still swimming about in Mae's womb, I told myself that I'd never use frighten my boy into submission. But three short years later, I'm breaking my word over and over. *sigh* Worst of all, it's so bloody effective I'll probably use it again and again. The way I see it, he'll probably grow up to hate me for it. Or he'll start slipping me fifty Ringgit notes to look the other way.

I'm sorry, son. Daddy loves you too much to yell at you. Not when all I want is for you to eat well and have a good education.

There's A Moral In Here Somewhere

2008-03-13T15:26:00.001+08:00

All that's been going on reminds me of a story.

Three buddies decide to go on a trek into the jungles of the Amazon. Like all testosterone-charged, hot-blooded males, the boys ignore all advice against their risky enterprise, scoffing at all tales of caution. However, like all good stories, the arrogant boys get their comeuppance. In the deep jungles of the Amazon, the guys find themselves in the clutches of a tribe of vicious Cannibals.

"You have to give us a fighting chance," pleaded the boys to their captors. The chief of the Cannibals considered a moment, agreed. After all, here was a man who liked to play with his food.

"Since it is the 21st birthday of my only daughter, I will let you off if you pass one simple test," said the chief. "If all of your three penises can measure up to 21 inches and beyond," explained the chief, "I will set you free."

"Okay, let's do this," said the first strapping lad as he confidently whipped out a whopper from his pants. 12 inches of meat, and the guys were off to a good start. The Cannibals were disheartened to see their catch slipping from their clutches. The second guy came in at a modest 7 inches, and their spirits were lifted, for surely their friend can manage more than 2 inches. However when the third fellow undid his pants, to the horror of his mates, therein laid a tiny little weiner. The Cannibals cheered at the prospect of a hearty dinner that night.

"Wait, wait," protested the third guy, "measure it!" The chief Cannibal came down from his throne and took to the task himself. To his disappointment, the last fellow measured exactly 2 inches, giving the boys a total of 21 inches. Begrudgingly, he set the three friends free.

"Thank God for those Penis Enlargement spams I have been receiving," said the first guy as they made their way back to civilisation, "otherwise, I surely wouldn't have managed 12 inches."

"I may not have 12 but I'll bet my 7 inches played a big role in saving our skins," said the second fellow, as the boys gloated about their good fortune.

"But we'd surely be dead by now," added the last fellow most earnestly, "if I wasn't having an erection."

I have never really had the stomach for politics because it all boils down to power and how much people hate sharing it.

C'mon people, play nice.

Memorable Birthday

2008-03-09T02:57:00.001+08:00

I remember my 19th birthday. I was 19, and it was my birthday, and I remember it.

I went to my girlfriend's house to celebrate that evening. I drove my ass all the way across town to see her, half expecting to get ~~lucky~~ a nice surprise. Well, I got a surprise. It wasn't nice, but it was a surprise nonetheless. The girl decided to dump me that night.

She could have picked any other night to do the deed, but maybe she wanted it to be memorable. It's a shitty thing to do to a guy, dumping him on his birthday. But she did it anyway. The bitch.

I wonder what's happened to her. Perhaps she's gone to live in the constituency of Sg. Siput. Heh.

Oh yeah, it's my birthday today. Wish me. And I swear this story is true, except maybe that last part. Any similiarities to current issues are purely coincidental.

Asskickery

2008-03-04T13:03:00.001+08:00

Over the weekend, we decided to check out the sale at Ikea. Jesse is all enthusiastic, cos it means he gets to visit Småland, Ikea's own kiddie playroom. We dropped him off and left Anie outside to keep an eye on him.

We had only just made it to the kitchen display when I get a call. "Your son is crying, sir," said the voice on the other end. I darted downstairs leaving Mae in a trail of dust. And there I found our boy in tears. In between sobs, Jesse poured out his grievances, but it was all disjointed gibberish. "Boy... took my ball... jump... I want to step on his head." We couldn't make head nor tail about anything, and so we asked Anie who had witnessed the whole thing from afar.

Apparently, Jesse was minding his own business playing with a ball when some ruffian kid decided to snatch it away. The little tyrant had also pushed my boy on the ground, which brought out the waterworks. Then our boy got up and punched his tormentor, which, of course ended with two boys crying.

"Punch?" I asked Anie, "bukan pukul?" I showed Anie an open palm. "No, tuan," she replied in English, "Jesse punched the boy!"

"Good boy," Mommy said as she stroked the boy on the head.

"Umm..." I interrupted, "I don't think we're supposed to encourage that."

At least not out loud anyway.

Don't get me wrong, we always teach Jesse never to raise his hands on anyone. And we don't want him to be a pushover either. So yeah, I have to admit I'm glad he taught that pushy little shit a lesson. Yet, I'm a little concerned with his, "I wanna step on his head" statement. It's got this whole 70s-kungfu-revenge-retribution-movie vibe to it.

We're not really sure how to deal with this.

Nailclipperphobia

2008-02-27T18:54:00.001+08:00

"Look at your nails," I grabbed Jesse's grubby little hands, "so dirty!" I pulled the boy onto my lap and grabbed a nailclipper, ready to make quick work of his Dracula talons. "NoOoOoo!!!" he shrieked, breaking away from my clutches, his face pale with fear.

"Daddy's not gonna hurt you, silly," I told him sincerely. But he was having none of that, folding his arms behind his back.

When he was about 3, I caught him playing with a nailclipper. I grabbed it from him and gave him a lecture that he could comprehend. "It's very dangerous," I explained. And then I had to go and add, "you could cut yourself and there'll be blood everywhere."

*sigh* I tend to over express myself sometimes.

It looks like I must have driven the fear of clipping nails in his young heart and from the looks of things, he may very well need therapy in the future. In the meantime, we'll have to cut his nails in his sleep and risk having him wake up screaming. It's either that or let them grow so long that they snap right off. At this stage, the second option sounds quite appealing.

Lim Kit Siang vs. Chee Cheong Fun

2008-02-25T13:40:00.001+08:00

Haha. Okay, so the title is a little sensationalist but it pretty much sums up my first encounter with the man.

The year was 1988 (or thereabouts, I can't rightly remember). It was teatime on a weekday and I was just stepping out of my house to buy Chee Cheong Fun when I noticed a commotion down the street. A crowd was building along Harrison Street, Taiping where I lived.

"Cheebye!" I called out to my neighbour. His real name was Chee Wai, but I was 17 at the time and at that age, it was entertaining to make fun of people's names. "What the hell's going on?" I enquired, seeing as to how he was making a beeline towards the DAP office near our homes.

"Lim Kit Siang is out of prison!" he called back to me, "let's go!".

"Nah," I scoffed, "Today, I'm voting for Chee Cheong Fun." I was always more epicural than political. *sigh*

That night, I discovered that Lim Kit Siang has been in prison for some ISA charge. I also found that the man had been going in and out of Kamunting through the course of his political career. The selfish bastard that I was, I could never understand why anyone would risk jail for their beliefs. But like I said, I was 17 at the time and not too bright.

Today I have grown to respect Lim Kit Siang and his colleagues in the Opposition, if not for their person, then at the very least, their tenacity to keep fighting. The rewards have been a few, and yet they soldier on. So I thought, on this occasion of our 12th Election, I'd like to dedicate this song to Lim Kit Siang and the rest of you Opposition fellas out there:

ROCKETMAN - Elton John

She packed my bags last night, preflight
Zero hour, nine a.m.
And I'm gonna be high
As a kite by then

I miss the earth so much
I miss my wife
It's lonely out in space
On such a timeless flight

And I think it's gonna be a long, long, time
'Til touchdown brings me 'round again to find
I'm not the man they think I am at home
Ah, no no no...
I'm a rocket man
Rocket man
Burnin' out his fuse
Up here alone

Mars ain't the kind of place
To raise your kids
In fact, it's cold as hell
And there's no one there to raise them
If you did

And all this science
I don't understand
It's just my job
Five days a week
A Rocket Man
Rocket Man

I think it's quite the appropriate song for the Rocketman himself. Just so you know some of us appreciate. :)

ADDENDUM
I figured I should link it here cos it's a really wonderful song. Three versions: Kate Bush's, voted the best cover version of all times; a really weird one by William Shatner, and of course the original.

New Heroes

2008-02-22T15:42:00.001+08:00

"I wanna be chowsinjji," Jesse proudly proclaims.

No more Spiderman. No more Superman. Now my boy wants to be Stephen Chow instead. And it's all Mommy's fault.

Mae decided she might want our son to be a little more interested in sports, seeing as how her Husband is a couch potato. And so she decided to start him on a diet of footbal TV. It's all very annoying to me, since I dun watch very much football. As far as I am concerned, there is nothing remotely entertaining about 20 over grown men chasing after a ball.

And so I negotiate a win-win deal.

"How about we watch football with a little more entertainment value?"

We've been watching Shaolin Soccer. A lot. Like two times a day, everyday. With any luck, maybe my little banana-boy will pick up a little Cantonese. Any more luck than that and Mae will pick up some Cantonese too. :)

Lost

2008-02-18T10:52:00.001+08:00

On Friday I lost my mobile phone.

I was sitting at the Caffe Cino outlet in KL Hilton discussing work. The damn phone must have fallen out my of pocket as I sat there on the sofa. I left the place and realised this as soon after I drove out of the parking lot. I immediately turned back, parked my car and ran up to the place. Needless to say, the phone was gone.

I enquired at the establishment but no one had reported a lost and found mobile phone. I made calls but no one answered. At one point someone did, but did not speak. Instead I was treated to a surround sound of the inside of someone's pocket.

So there. My phone was gone and quite possibly, someone in Hilton had found it but had decided to keep it. I'd expect this at Rumah Tumpangan Kiew Kiew (not that I ever go to someplace named Rumah Tumpang Kiew Kiew), but this was the Hilton, dammit.

But perhaps my expectation of the establishment is unrealistic. After all, the tone and manner of the place did take a dip when their famous heiress spent a few nights in the slammer. Heh.

The phone was a Nokia 6280. It's pretty worn out. But I cherish it, simply for the fact that it took plenty of pictures, many of which are still inside the phone. So... um... if you happen to spot any pictures of me with Cecelia Cheung or Gillian Chung on the internet, please destroy them. Do NOT forward to Mae!!!

Seriously though, I have pictures of my family in there. *sigh* I actually sent an SMS to my phone to appeal to the finder to mail my memory card back to me. But I am not hopeful, cos you can't expect a dishonest person to do the right thing, can you?

BTW, some of you might wanna SMS me your numbers.

Reunion

2008-02-14T09:08:00.001+08:00

This year, we didn't go home to Taiping for the Chinese New Year. Since Grandma's passing, her sons and daughters decided that they will no longer convene in Taiping for the reunion, but will instead do their own thing. It's a crying shame, but I suppose this is the natural progression of things.

This year, Mom made the trip down here instead. My brother-in-law booked us at a Chinese restaurant and it was a reunion of his family, ours and my stepmom's. As dinners with our family go, the food was great and the conversations excellent. Yet I can't help but miss our reunions in Taiping with Mom's siblings and my cousins.

Our family is a motley crue of the craziest people you would ever see. They're funny, loud and they all love food.

Reunions start early in Taiping. By 3pm, everyone's home. Most of us would gather in the kitchen and there would be plenty of washing, cutting, cooking, cleaning, tasting and other stuff you do in the kitchen. And our home would be thick with camaradarie and laughter. So much so, some of us just came into the kitchen for the fun of it. So much so, our poor neighbour next door would peek his head into our kitchen and remarked how much he wished he were part of the family. That was our tradition.

Too bad Grandma's gone. I suppose now we'll have to make our own traditions. Maybe next year I'll make everyone come to the house and wash and cut and cook and clean.

Angry Boy

2008-02-13T09:09:00.001+08:00

"Today, I'm very angry," my little boy tells me last night in bed. He was probably upset that he had soiled his diaper, and that I had told him off about it.

"Who are you angry with?" I asked.

"I'm angry with Kakak," he answers spitefully, redirecting his anger to our maid, Anie. "Well, you can't be angry with Kakak," I advised, "not if you want her to wash your bum-bum."

As Anie was dealing with him, she enquired about his temperament, "Jesse is angry with Kakak?"

"Nooooo," he answers in the sweetest little voice. "Jesse is angry with Mommy," explained the little politician, in the most matter-of-fact tone that a four-year-old can muster. However, all that time the boy didn't know that Mommy was within earshot.

"What!?!?" Mae's blood-curdling voiced boom from inside our bedroom. "Why are you angry with Mommy?"

With that Mommy's faithful little subject scurried into the room before the Queen. He stood there looking most apologetic, as he wracked his brain for a good save. And then it came, "because Mommy always makes the floor wet."

Mae is always making a mess of our bathroom, and I once unwittingly told the boy so. The little rascal had stored this, and probably other tasty bits of information to be used to negotiate his release in sticky situations. And while the boy gets Her Majesty's royal pardon, Daddy gets a boot to the head for releasing sensitive information to the child. Hehheh.

Passport Photo

2008-02-04T08:48:00.001+08:00

It occured to me that I will never have a nice passport photo. Given my track record with the damn thing, you'd think it was against the natural order of universe for me to get a decent passport photo.

Last Tuesday, as I sat before the photographer, I thought to myself that maybe this year I'd have a better shot seeing that I didn't have to wake up at 5am to queue up at the Immigration office. Yes, our governmental processes used to be much more of a pain in the ass that it is now, but I digress. And so, I flashed the cameraman my best snarl (For some reason, it just feels wrong to be all smiley and cheerful for official photos).

Needless to say, it was another crappy photo. I look old, tired and guilty. If I were ever hauled into the interrogation room of a foreign country under the suspicion of smuggling child pornography, I'm gonna be in deep trouble. (No, you bastards, I will not scan and publish it here.)

The past years were no better. In my last passport, I look like a refugee from the killing fields who had accidentally stepped on a land mine. But at least I looked young then. Heck, I WAS young then.

Going back further, even my childhood passport was not spared. I got my first travel document at the age of 8. In it, I looked like the bargain bin special of a fledging third world child sex ring.

In retrospect, I probably should have gotten the photographer to reshoot but that would probably be another exercise in futility. Maybe I just ought to smile more for these official photographs. Oh well.

Project Codename: Cicakgirl

2008-02-01T11:21:00.001+08:00

It's Maya Karin. In red leather. And all over me. Which explains the shit-eating grin on my face. Took awhile for Mae to slap it out of my system. Hahahaha.

Seriously though, it was all work and I'm happy to add that Maya is as lovely in person as she in on screen - unless you only watch the scary bits in Pontianak Harum Sundal Malam. Very down-to-earth, and very nice. Despite me poking a camera in her face the entire time. :)

Superman Returns

2008-01-22T01:01:00.001+08:00

If you haven't already figured it out, Jesse is in his Superman phase now. One minute he's mild-mannered reporter Clark Kent, the next minute he's unbuttoning his shirt and baring his chest all over town. It seems like you can't take any shot of boy minus the pose. It's infuriating.

As you can imagine, he's got a growing collection of Superman paraphernalia, including the costume. But it's not enough that he has the suit, he also insists that I get one. Thankfully, they only have t-shirts for men my size. Just imagine me in blue tights and red underwear. Not a pretty sight, believe you me.

Anyway, Mae decided to get in on the action and got herself a Superman t-shirt too. However, in his eyes, Mommy is Wonder Woman. Now, does anyone know where can I get my hands on a Wonder Woman costume? Please understand that it's not for my ~~kinky fantasies~~ enjoyment. I'm just doing this for my boy. Really.

No Eye See

2008-01-09T14:34:00.001+08:00

I have a tendency to leave my spectacles all over the place, so this morning's episode wasn't terribly unfamilliar to me. Except that after over one hour of searching, the damn glasses were still nowhere to be found.

"Honey," I called Mae on the phone, "did you happen to see my glasses?" Nope. "What about Anie," I asked if the maid had seen it. No again.

By then I had overturned the entire house. I was late for work. And the bloody specs were still nowhere to be found. So, I decided to go to work blind. As I left, I called the wife again.

"Maybe Anie accidentally broke them," I presented my conspiracy theory to Mae, "and decided to get rid of the incriminating evidence." While I spoke, I found myself making my way towards the trash disposal room, half expecting to rummage through this morning's garbage. Thankfully, I came to my senses.

As I drove, I called Mae again. "Maybe you took my glasses."

"Of course not," she snapped, quickly losing her patience. "I can't wear your glasses without getting a headache!"

"Maybe you put them in your handbag by mistake," I suggested, sheepishly. I was getting desperate. "It could happen."

"Don't be silly," Mae scoffed. Damn woman scoffed at me. And I took it like a downtrodden little boy, defeated. Wasted and spent, by my cheap hundred ringgit glasses. And a wife who scoffed at me.

Half an hour later Mae calls.

"Erm... hehe... I have good news and bad news," said a self-righteous monkey of a klutz on the other end of the line.

Ho ho ho. Sweet revenge.

Christmas in PD

2007-12-31T16:41:00.001+08:00

We had a nice little Christmas getaway this year. Most of the family were away and we decided to get out of town too. Also, I had been working so much that it was a nice change of pace for me.

Ever since our last beach holiday in Pangkor, Jesse's been re-enacting his little playtime on the beach. It was quite cute, but quite sad all the same. He'd bring out his sand castle bucket and spade and play pretend burying his own feet in make-believe sand. So we decided to do this for him.

This time around, Jesse decided to give swimming a pass. For some reason, as he grows older, he seems to be more fearful of stuff. I could see the fear in his eyes as we got into the water. I would have like to throw him in but that would probably cost me in therapy fees in the future.

We stayed in Guoman. It was a lovely place and there was a nice manicured garden where folks flew their kites. And we flew our kite. Now it must be said that I only learnt to fly a kite when I was 18, and that was the only time I ever managed to get one airborne. So I wasn't so sure if our kite would pull a Charlie Brown on me. Thankfully, the wind was great. But it didn't matter much to Jesse. For him, all the fun in flying a kite was the running around.

And now, on with the program! C'mon 2008, we're waiting. :)

Waiting

2007-12-11T23:52:00.001+08:00

I'm in Johor again. But if it seems like I never left there since my last blog entry, please accept my apologies for my half-assed attempt at blogging.

When I left for here on Sunday, I told the boy I would be back by Thursday. "When's Daddy gonna be back?" I asked to make sure he understood me. "Thursday!" he shouted at the top of his voice, cheerfully. A little too cheerfully, in my opinion. Hmph!

Still, I have come to accept the fact that life goes on, even if I'm out of town. He's got so much to keep him occupied that I'm surprised he even remembers who I am.

But today at bedtime, Mae calls. "He refuses to sleep," the wife reports, "he says he wants to wait for Daddy."

I'm grinning from ear-to-ear just thinking about it. I guess my boy does miss me after all. And that is surely a good enough reason to update the blog. :)

Away From Home

2007-11-26T08:01:00.001+08:00

Today I leave for Johor on business. It'll be a 3-day trip. And in about 2 weeks, I'll have to go again - for 5 days.

I used to look forward to getting out of the office but these days I just hate the idea of being apart from family. That, if anything, is a sign of growing up. Or growing old. Ugh!

This morning, I explain to the kid that I would be gone for a few days. And like I always do before I leave, I impart a little fatherly advice and instruction."You take care of Mommy, okay?" I told the boy. "Okay, Daddy" he answered sincerelt, and added, "Jesse play with Mommy"

Hah. At least I know Mae will be entertained while I'm away.

Musical Adventure

2007-11-19T22:15:00.001+08:00

On Friday, I got a couple of passes to Yamaha's Asia Pacific Junior Original Concert. The APJOC is a showcase of talents borne out of Yamaha Music's Education System, and boy, what a showcase.

Every year some 35,000 compositions are submitted from all over the world. The best from Asia Pacific perform at the annual APJOC all around the region. This year, however, the concert is hosted here in Malaysia. The last one was in 2001, and the one before, I attended in 1996.

We took Jesse there, since its probably the only concert he'll be allowed in at his age. Besides, we were curious to see how he'd take to such a show. He was so into it that he sat quietly for most of the 2-hour concert.

The music was amazing, ranging from charming little numbers on the piano to complex symphonies played out on the Electone. With the quality of the compositions on show, it's easy to forget that these kids are actually performing there very own original compositions.

Halfway through this 8-year old's riveting piece, Jesse starts bouncing on my lap excitedly. "Daddy, I wanna learn this," he says, pointing at the handsome Electone on stage. I smile weakly at my son, while, in my mind, I'm working out monthly repayments, interest rates, and stuff from home I can bring to the pawnshop.

So yeah, if anything, the APJOC is a great big propaganda to get you to enrol your kids at Yamaha. Next year, Jesse will be learning music with the school's Junior Music Course. And Daddy will be eating cheap instant noodles for lunch everyday.

NOTE: Go read Dustyhawk's review of the concert.

Yamaha APJOC

2007-11-15T19:19:00.001+08:00

The Yamaha Asia Pacific Junior Original Concert is an annual event held in countries around Asia Pacific. This year is Malaysia's turn to host. The last one in Malaysia was held in 2000. It features kids, from 7-15 years of age, performing their own original composition. However, if you think that this is a kiddie affair, you would be shocked. These kids write stuff far beyond their years.

I have 4 pairs of press invites to this sold out concert. However, these are reserved for bloggers only. The concert is tomorrow (16 Nov 2007, Fri) at 8:00pm at the Dewan Sivik Petaling Jaya in PJ State. If you would like to experience the APJOC, do mail me at thatjames[at]gmail[dot]com.

The Showtime That Almost Never Was

2007-11-13T15:46:00.001+08:00

This is gonna be a long one. Hopefully the headers make it more readable.

Children like routines. That's what most parenting books will tell you. Because in routine is consistency and stability - all the things a child need to feel secure. Jesse is a textbook example of this. And quite unfortunately so.

Sunday was a big day for the boy. It was his kindie's year end concert and he was going as Prince Charming. But it would also be a day that breaks all conventions with him.

UNFAMILIARITY BREEDS CONTEMPT
First, he was going to school at 6:30pm. And he wasn't in uniform. And the "school" is also at our spanking new church building where the concert was being held. It was all too much for the poor boy to take in.

I had dropped Mae and Jesse off to park my car. When I called to find out where she was, I heard a child crying in the background. "Oh God, please don't let that be my child," I thought to myself. But God likes to mess with me every now and then. *sigh*

By the time he was ushered away to the kiddie seats in the hall, and we were seated amongst other parents he was still sobbing away - presumably because he thought we had abandoned him. And for the next two hours as show went on to entertain parents and kids alike, Jesse was okay one minute, and pining for his parents the next. I was miserable. Mae was miserable. And poor Jesse was probably the most miserable of all.

SMALL DECISION, BIG DECISION
Throughout the course of that time, I was two minds about what I should do. Do I spare him the misery by whisking him away, and also deprive him the opportunity to appear up onstage as he had so longed to do? (My boy lives for attention, I swear!) Or do I let him be and hope he's all okay by showtime? It was the simplest of decisions, yet this one tore me apart.

I decided to leave him be. Mae and I even stayed hidden as the toddler troupe passed up by to get up onstage. By then, his love for showbiz had surpassed his melancholy, and our boy proudly galloped onstage in full royal regalia.

I beamed with pride as I saw my little boy up on stage with his classmates, waving to the crowd. And like every idiotic parent, I was up there snapping photos of my boy with Jesse's Uncle Jeff in tow. That was when he spotted us.

A BURSTING DAM
"Teacher Lavender," he called out excitedly, loud enough for me to hear, "it's Daddy and Uncle Jeff!" But the discovery of his long lost Daddy was too much for him to bear, and there in front of the audience, I saw his composure slowly cracking. "Daddy is proud of you!" I cried out to encourage him. I probably would have made a fool of myself if weren't for the commotion of the crowd drowning me out, but I didn't give a shit. My boy needed to hear something encouraging.

He sucked it all in for as long as he could, until they led his group offstage. I made may way through the crowd in the most dramatic fashion, like one of those old Chinese movies where a father and son are reunited amidst a madding crowd. I knelt down and he ran towards me, jumped up on me, put his arms around my neck and cried buckets and buckets of tears.

"I wanna go home, Daddy," he sobbed. I told his teacher, then whisked him off to his legion of adoring grandparents, uncles and aunties who had come to see him. It didn't take him long to be a happy child once again.

LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON
Jesse is a little highly strung, and Mae and I have come to acknowledge this. Even so, this was a little puzzling to Mae. But it was all familiar to me. "I chickened out on my kindergarten concert as a kid," I told Mae. "Really?" she replied, and added, "shit." Or so I imagine.

But Jesse is way ahead of me. I never got onstage all those years back. But that, I will tell you more in another post.

That night, or poor little boy tossed and turned. "I wanna go home," he cried in his sleep, a few times over. Not even his nasty fall and the surgery had such an impact on him. I can only imagine what he must have gone through that night at his concert. :(

Princely Raiment

2007-11-09T18:00:00.001+08:00

the artist formerly known as prince

Come Sunday, Jesse's kindie is putting up some sort of a year-end concert for parents and all. For the juniors, it's more of a fancy dress gig than a concert.

"The theme is Snow White & The Seven Dwarves," Mae tells me. Which pretty much means Jesse and his classmates will have to dress up like any of the characters in that show. *sigh* And I had all this hope of dressing up my boy as Darth Vader or something. But no, it was gonna be Snow White.

"My son must be the Prince," Mae asserted, every bit like the soccer mom that she is. "And you," she commanded, "You will make your son the best costume in the class." If it was a mother and son thing, Mae can easily pass of as the Evil Queen. Heh.

The tunic and cuffs are made of some stiff felt-like material finished off with some curtain trims. I used the same stuff for the fake boots and belt. Basically I wanted material that didn't fray at the edges, so I wouldn't have the terrible task of sewing seams (It's called cheating). The belt buckle is mine. The pants and shirt are Jesse's nightclothes. The cape is some cheap fake satin which tends to fray at the edges, but I cleverly used a lighter to melt the "seams". Everything is fastened with velcro, except the cape which is held by two ornamental buttons. And I stitched it all on this portable little sewing machine my MIL gave me.

Okay, so I'm not ready to quit my day job yet, but I think I did a pretty good job here. :)

Scarred

2007-11-06T17:31:00.001+08:00

feelin' fine

Jesse came back from his little surgery bandaged, with the instruction to remove after 48 hours. I was a little apprehensive, but I took to the task.

"What is inside, Daddy?" Jesse enquired. I explained to him in a way that he would understand, "You broke your head and the doctor fixed it."

"Doctor fixed Jesse's head?"

"Uh-huh," I proceeded to describe the procedure, "Doctor used strings to fix Jesse's head." I then went on to prepare him for what I was about to do, and when he was adequately prepped, I did the deed.

It must have been a little painful as I saw him wince a couple of times, but he laid there quietly as gingerly peeled the plaster and gauze away from his wound. And then I gave him a mirror to see what all the fuss was about. And the most unexpected thing happened.

He sat there, stared at the horrifying scar on his head and it struck him, probably for the first time - the aftermath of his terrible accident. And he cried buckets of tears. It was such a heartbreaking sight.

"Daddy, my strings," he sobbed. I hadn't expected him to be so affected by it and I wasn't quite prepared to deal with this. So I decided to just wing it. "Doctor said you look like Harry Potter," I assured the boy. As I did, I hollered at Mae to bring a Harry Potter DVD.

"Look, darling," Mae consoled him, "Harry Potter's got a mark on his head too!" It didn't help.

Then, my clever wife picked up an eyeliner pencil and drew a lighting mark on her head. "Look at Mommy," she cooed. I saw his little lips curl into a smile and I decided to play along. "Look," I called, "Daddy's got one just like yours!"

And just like that, we were a happy family once again. Even if it meant that Mae and I had to wear the "mark" out for our dinner and jalan-jalan that night.

Head Wound

2007-11-05T02:13:00.001+08:00

"Jesse fell and cut his head!" Mae's voice quivered over the phone on Friday. My mother-in-law had tried to send him to the neighbourhood pediatrician but it was closed. I called MIL. Over the phone I could hear the boy screaming.

"Clean the wound, and apply pressure to stop the bleeding," I snapped orders through the chaos, remembering what little first aid I learnt at school. "It stopped bleeding," MIL advised and added, "Drive safely"

I can only guess what a traumatic experience it must have been to see her grandson bleeding profusely. I stepped on it.

I got there about 10 minutes later and it was an alarming sight. Both MIL and Anie, our maid, was covered in blood. My boy had cried himself to sleep in his kakak's arm. When I walked over and saw the wound in his forehead, I recoiled in shock and tears welled up in my eyes. It was a deep cut, 40mm long and about 6mm deep. I was dumbstrucked.

"Mae is on her way back," MIL said, "she said to wait."

I snapped out of whatever stupor I was in, and got up to leave. "I don't want Mae to see this," I explained. I doubt it she would be able to handle it.

The drive took forever with the lunch hour jam. On one hand I was thankful that Jesse was asleep and not crying and screaming. And yet, on the other hand, there was my precious little boy laying silently in his Kakak's arms with a gaping wound in his head. I didn't know what to think.

When we got to the hospital, Jesse awoke. Despite the pain he must have been going through, he didn't cry. "Are you okay, boy?" I asked. "Yes," he said in a sad little voice. It pained me.

The doctor was out for lunch and so the nurse covered the wound with a wet dressing. And all the nurses at Megah Medical Specialist Centre consoled the boy and told him what a brave boy he was. He was.

Mae arrived shortly after with a bag of goodies for the boy and it cheered him up plenty.

The doctor examined the wound. Apparently, it was so bad that it his muscle was cut. Mae saw it for the first time and her eyes went red.

The nurses restraint him and the doctor administered a local anesthetic jab into the wound. He struggled and cried a little. I almost did as I saw his forehead swell before my eyes from the injection. "He won't feel a thing when I stitch him up," Doc explained, "but he will probably cry out of fear."

By then Jesse was in good spirits again. By the time we were ushered into the operation theatre, he called out cheerfully, "See you later, Mommy," much to the nurses' amusement. He was thrilled with the little robe they let him wear, oblivious to the cut in his forehead.

In the theatre, they strapped him tight on the gurney. He started crying and begging me to let him loose. I had never felt so helpless in my life. The doctor went as quickly as he could, to spare the boy the agony. After two layers of sutures, some 11 stitches in all, I unstrapped him and hugged him close, and everything felt alright again. I guess I needed it as much as he did.

By the time we left the hospital, he was all happy as if nothing had happened. And over the weekend, it had been all good. No nightmares, no fevers and no crying.

But for Mae and I, and my Mother-In-Law, things may never be the same again.

P.Ramlee The Musical

2007-10-31T23:50:00.001+08:00

I grew up on P.Ramlee. Back in the 70s, they played his movies on TV all the time. The whole family would crowd around our black & white TV and laugh with the Man, enjoy his antics and sing his songs.

You have to remember that this was the 70s. There was no Astro. We had all of two TV channels. There was no internet. Hell, we didn't even have a damn PC. And the closest thing to a video game was Nintendo's Game N Watch. So yeah, P.Ramlee was entertainment for the whole family.

And then cue some 30+ plus years later, Mae bumps into her old friend at the shopping mall and suddenly we land ourselves a couple of free tix to P.Ramlee the Musical. Apparently poor Karen had two extra seats and no takers. Oh, the travesty!

The show was great - great script, great music, great ensemble cast and all. I especially loved the 2nd act when P.Ramlee's life story played out like one of his wonderful comedies.

Mae enjoyed it. For me, it was a bit of nostalgia, though I would have like to have heard a few more songs in it. Getaran Jiwa, one of P.Ramlee's most familiar tunes should probably have been in, simply because is so iconic. Probably Bunyi Gitar too. And then there is my personal favourite, Aci Aci Buka Pintu; simply because Mom used to sing it to me when I was a kid. *sniff*

The show is all sold out, but if anyone should happen to chance upon any free tickets, you should kill for them. :) But don't take my word for it. Do see TV Smith and Jeff Ooi's take on the show.

Mother-In-Law Day

2007-10-26T17:51:00.001+08:00

Apparently, today is Mother-In-Law day, according to the Mix.FM. Some people say it's the 4th Sunday in October. Me, I'm just amused that there is a day to commemorate mothers-in-law. I wonder who decided it would be a good idea for a Mother-In-Law day. I'll bet it's somebody's mother-in-law. It certainly feels like the kind of thing a mother-in-law would think up. Just imagine:

Wife: Honey, aren't we gonna take Mom out for dinner this Mother-In-Law Day?
Hubby: Erm... I was thinking perhaps we should take my mom out.
Wife: You know I don't get along with your mother.
Hubby: This is the woman who brought your husband up, dammit!
Wife: I've lived with my mom all my life too.
Hubby: Believe me, I know the pain she must have gone through cos I live it everyday!!!
Wife: Well, if it's any consolation, at least your mother-in-law isn't a witch like mine!

This is just a dramatization from my warped mind. I assure you Mae and I have wonderful mothers-in-law. In any case, I doubt if we'll celebrate the day. It's yet another sneaky attempt to empty our pockets.

Be A Man

2007-10-22T19:46:00.001+08:00

The little guy entertains me no end. These days he picks stuff up very quickly so you can imagine what joy (and comedy) that gives me. In case you're wondering where that came from, go ahead and play the clip below:

Toothbrushing

2007-10-18T18:47:00.001+08:00

Jesse hates brushing his teeth. We've tried all kinds of ways to make it interesting for him, but nope. The boy is simply adversed to having foreign objects stuffed up his mouth.

To make matters worse, Daddy is not much of an authority of brushing teeth. You see, I'm afraid, all I can safely commit to is one brush a day. The fact is, somedays, I conveniently forget to brush before bed. Hehehh... I know how gross that must seem, but all I can say is, that's all Grandmother's fault.

"Chaat mutt yeh gwai lah," she'd scoff... erm... scornfully. Loosely translated, it pretty much means "What the hell are you brushing for?"

Heh. The old lady was quite the battle axe, but more than often her bark was worse than her bite. Then again, that's probably attributed to the fact that she had lost all her teeth by the time she turned 30. In fact, all her contemporaries too had become toothless by their 30th birthdays.

Back in Ah Por's day, dentalcare wasn't exactly all the rage. And toothpaste was a luxury afforded only by the upper echelons society. As for Ah Por (and most of her village), they used ash from the coal stove. Which probably explains the short shelf life of their teeth. But that never stopped the old lady from brushing off the notion of brushing. Which, as a kid, was simply marvellous news.

And so, more than not, I have had to make a conscious effort to remember to brush my teeth before bed. And more than often, I fail. Thankfully, I've gone past 30 with all my teeth intact. So there! (I am SO gonna get a lecture from my dentist who reads this blog. Hahaha.)

As for Jesse, only Mae can save him now.

Lo And Behold

2007-10-10T17:46:00.001+08:00

I really should blog more often. When I started doing this back in '04, I thought it'd be a great way to record Jesse's development. And it is, capturing some of Jesse's finest moments as an infant. (Like this one here, which I love to bits!)

These days, his progress is more gradual and sort of just sneaks up on you.

For instance, he's been off the diaper a little bit at a time for over a month now. Yes, yes, I know, it's taken awhile and other kids are already off their diapers aeons ago... but this is my boy and that is always worth some kind of celebration. But the transition is gradual. He's still uncomfortable taking a poopie in the john.

Then, there's his conversational skills. Despite his bubbly persona, he does tend to clamp up on the phone, answering "yes" or "no" to any question. Over the week he's improved. A couple of days ago, he asked me to buy donuts. Yesterday, he wanted pizza. Sure, sure, kids ask for food all the time, but this is Jesse! :)

He sings. He picks up lyrics quite quickly even if he doesn't quite understand what they mean. And he reads. My boy, reading! Pretty soon he'll be moving out, getting married and having kids. *sigh*

More Monday Blues

2007-10-08T22:10:00.001+08:00

Today was just like any other day, except that it was special. As I got out of my car to go to work, there it was right before me, a hot steaming pile of dogshit. I hesitated, and then navigated myself carefully around it. This was an omen, if ever there was one. And the day went downhill from there.

I was sick over the weekend. What pisses me off, is that the effects of flu is so much more pronounced these days now that I'v passed the mid-30 mark. And the other thing that pisses me off about getting sick is that, for some sick twisted reason, I only seem to fall sick on Friday evening and conveniently recover enough on a Sunday night.

What gives, man?!? It's bad enough that I didn't manage to ~~goof~~ get a break from work, I actually get well enough to get my sorry ass back to work. Except that, I'm not well enough to feel great. Plus, I have this cocktail of pills to keep me drugged up and groggy for most of the day, except that I'm not doped up enough to be oblivious to the torture that is my Monday morning.

Afternoon comes, and along with it, a raging forest fire I have to put out at work.

And then, Mae calls. Jesse is down with high fever. "I think I'm coming down with something too." I know immediately that I must have spread some of my weekend cheer around.

At six, she calls again, and tells me that she is so deathly ill that she can't possibly drive home from my mother-in-law's house. Yes, Mae has always been a tad melodramatic about things but since this was my own undoing, I resolved to do the right thing. I would have to pick my family from MIL's.

I packed my Macbook into my bag and dragged my feet off into the sunset, muttering curses at my misfortunes. I sat in the car, my right foot still out the door and started the engine. And like one of those flashback sequences in the movies, the events of the day played out in reverse order in my mind - right to the very moment that I had arrived at work earlier in the day.

Instinctively, I glanced at pile of dog poo that had greeted me in the morning. Like me, it too had had a terrible day. What was once a proud random sculpture of dog excrement had now been reduced to a downtrodden pile of shit. As much as I hate to admit it, I felt a tinge of what can only be accurately described as schadenfraude, knowing that some idiot somewhere had stepped into shit.

Until I discovered, to a mix emotion of joy and horror, that I was that very idiot. And the evidence was written all over the sole of my right shoe. That disgusting pile of shit had waited all day to get me and it got me good. *sigh*

There was something strangely poetic about all of this, but it's hard to be poetic about shit. Still, if you feel so inclined, there's the comment box. :)