Exit 2004

What a year it has been. Here are the highlights, in no particular order.

Baby Jesse came into our lives. We found out about the little guy early in the year and in August, he was born. What an amazing thrill-ride that was. Mae and I grew up a lot this year. Just a year back we were still, pretty much two crazy kids trying to make sense of everything - the world, the economy, the marriage... and suddenly, we're parents. Yup, we grew up alright. In fact we're still growing up, so much so we're beginning to feel it in our aching bones. Hahahhah! Still, parenthood is amazing and rewarding, provided all those night-feeds and diaper-changes don't kill you first!

I blogged for the first time. Thanks to an ex-colleague who showed me the ropes. It's been a fun ride - made even more so by all of your visits and comments. Thanks peeps! Hopefully, this blog will go on till Mae and I become grandparents. :)

I moved office to a nicer place. It's always fun to work in a nice office. Our old office was a dump. Our new office is soon becoming a dump. Heh! I better enjoy it while it lasts.

We got a digital camera. Somehow, this is a highlight. My previous camera was a LOMO - first introduced to me aeons ago by Hiney, who incidentally (I'm assuming) doesn't own one. Ahaks! Hmm, perhaps I'll post some of my old pics. Those were pretty groovy.

We went to Hanoi. That was a great time. The next time we go anywhere will be when Jesse's old enough to walk. Oh man.

Yeah, 2004 was a pretty good year except for that last bit when the Tsunami struck. Still, God had been pretty good to us and we know He will continue to be so. So, as much as I hate to see 2004 go, I'm also excited to dive right into 2005. Ahhh...

So, do have a good 2005, folks. May your live be richly blessed and may God watch over you and yours.

PS: Heh! Does this post look like one of those cheap shots they take with sitcoms? Y'know the ones where they show you snippets of past episodes? *sigh* It's confirmed. My life is like a cheap sitcom.

Making Right

Even though we were hundred of miles away from danger, we were all shaken by Sunday's earthquake in Sumatra all the same. Suddenly, our little comfort zone doesn't quite feel so comfortable anymore.

"We better make right with God," Mae said, grimly. She always had a way with such things. But I knew she was right.

A couple of years back, we visited Mae's old church. A certain Dr. Samuel Doctorian spoke that Sunday. He had had a vivid dream. In it he was visited by five angels who told him that they were the Five Angels of the Continents. "The Angel of Asia said that earthquake will wreak Asia and the ocean will cover up the land!" he cried out in melodramatic fashion. I was fairly new to Christianity then - much like how Scully was new to the X-Files. "What drama," I said to myself and dismissed it as the man's overactive imagination. And left it at that.

Sunday night, I was reminded of his words once again. Perhaps its curtain time for us all. Perhaps not. Either way, it was a wake up call. Whether or not you believe in the End Times as prescribed by Christian Scholars (or any other religious people, for that matter), the underlying message of the End Of Days isn't all that mysterious:

"TO LIVE A LIFE WORTHY OF GOD."

For some strange reason, putting the word "God" in that sentence tends to piss some people off. But you don't have to be a person of faith to appreciate the gravity of that message. It's just a call to live life to the fullest (not a life of selfish excesses, mind you)! Live each day as if it were your last. Carpe diem. Or whatever cliche comes to mind.

"You Christians suck," my cousin once said. "You sin every day of the week and on Sunday you go to church, ask for forgiveness and get your ticket back to Heaven!" His statement floored me and left me quite speechless. But I realise now that it isn't quite as simple as this. What if I died on a Saturday?

"We better make right with God." Mae was always the smarter one in such matters. "We need to do right in whatever we're doing now," she added. And I realised that a life worthy of God isn't ONLY going to church or praying harder. It's also to be a better person, a better worker, a better boss, a better friend, a better son and at this point in my life, a better father.

I realise that I can never promise my son that Tsunamis will never strike. But I can promise to hold him tight when it does. Last night, Jesse woke up startled. I cradled him in my arms and reassured him, "Daddy's gonna do the best he can."

I'd like to think that's all God really expects from us; to do the best we can. It's reassuring to know that we can always afford to do a little better.

NOTICE: By the way, if you feel that you'd like to make right with God by giving, details can be found at Mack's and Papi's.

First Christmas

fa-lala-la-laa-lala-la-laa

It's Jesse's first Christmas ever. Woo!

For us, it's yet another year of a last-minute shopping frenzy, frustration and pressure. I hate how Christmas is so commercialised. I mean, why can't we all just shake hands, hug, eat turkey and say "Merry Christmas"? That way, everyone will save a bundle. The same should apply for Chinese New Year and Valentine. And maybe even birthdays. Hehheh! Okay, I admit. I'm a damn cheapskate!

But like everybody else, we succumb the commercialisation anyway. And so, we got Jesse a gift. It's a small toy radio that plays baby hits. He'll probably not understand what it's all about but we'll wrap up his little present anyway, just for the fun of it. And on Christmas morning, we'll help him rip it up. And knowing the little tyke, he'll probably like the wrapper more than the gift. Heh! He's kinda dopey that way.

Oh, by the way, I think Christmas is kinda sucky this year since it falls on a Saturday when most of us are on holiday anyway. And as if that didn't suck enough, New Year's Day is on Saturday too. Bah, humbug! What a ripoff.

Oh well, at least there'll be turkey to eat. Merry Christmas y'all! :)

Blinding Flash

Mae's been flashing Baby. But with flashcards, mind you. And Jesse's loving it, laughing and gurgling all the way. Anyway, at dinner yesterday I was having my daily conversation with Jesse when Mommy decided to get educational.

"You should inject some of the new words he learnt today into your conversation," Mae advised. "But all he learnt today were names of fruits and vegetables," I protested. Mae, being Mae was adamant that her son gets the most of her efforts. "Just do it lah!"

Jesse had just learnt the words Tomato, Papaya, Radish and Cherry.

And so Daddy makes the most of the words. "Son, when you grow up don't you go round popping anyone's cherry otherwise Mommy will crush your tomatoes and banish you from her papayas!"

"You idiot!" Mae screamed. Hehhehhh!!!

"Well, he also learnt Bitter Gourd and Cauliflower," Mae tried to stump me. "Look Jesse, Mommy's all bitter like a bitter gourd now," I told the boy. "She might give you a cauliflower ear!"

"Radish!" Mae was not giving up without a fight. "Don't radish in popping anyone's cherry, son." Okay, so that should have been "relish" instead. Hehhehh.

Guess I'm just not cut out to be an educator. :)

House

Mae and I have been thinking about getting a new place. Our little family is beginning to outgrow our little home.

Currently, we live in a small 900-something sqft Condo with 2 rooms and a storeroom. I moved in 4 years ago and it was perfect. Then Mae moved in with me and it got cosier. But ever since Baby showed up, it's started to get a little claustrophobic!! Now here's a boy with excess baggage.

You never, ever expect this. But when a baby shows up in your life, he isn't just contented sharing your space. He's conquering the land and driving out the natives.

You think, "Feh, he's just a kid. What does he need all that room for?." Wrongo, bubbo! He's got plenty of stuff - diapers, clothes, beddings, toiletries, crib, stroller, car seat, bottles, flasks, formula, toys, steamer, bath tub, etc. The list is endless. And his stuff is all over the place now - in his room, in our room, in our store, in the kitchen, in the living room, everywhere!

He's taken over half the house. And just think, this is just one kid. *sigh* No wonder the Ibans live in longhouses!

Short Shots #1

I have a theory about guys and girls, and their relationship with each other: Men like to be teased; Women like to be pleased.

To get a guy to want you, all you gotta do is let him know he can't have you. Of course you'll also need to remember that guys are visual creatures. Don't be looking like some frumpy auntie and still hope to make it in his wishlist. Ehhheh! We're shallow, what can I say?

Women are more... erm... sophisticated. To please a woman, you gotta appreciate her. Anticipate her. And understand her. And to understand her, you need to know the one universal truth about her.

Repeat after me: Women love McDonalds. (*universal truth applicable to Malaysian women only)

I Knee-ded You

TV Smith's latest must surely strike a chord in our hearts. Or in our crotch when the little buggers lose control of their roller shoes.

In my youth (which was before the time of such a dastardly invention), I had a surefire way to deal with unruly children at a shopping mall. Back then, the kids merely ran about on their regular shoes. But they were annoying all the same. During the times when such a wild child ran towards me unknowingly, I would rise to the occasion.

Actually I would raise a knee to the occasion. Just high enough to meet the child in his chest. Thereon, inertia would do the rest. "Hey, Mr. Solar Plexus, meet Mr. Knee!"

The science behind it is simple enough. Upon contact of the child's celiac plexus with my age-hardened patella, said child's abdominal cavity momentarily collapses under the force of the impact. This action is countered with said child's diaphragm compressing his lungs whereupon its gaseous contents are expelled into the atmosphere. In short, it knocks the wind out of him.

And here, the strangest thing happens. They don't ever cry.

Perhaps it's the excruciating, numbing pain. Or perhaps it's the shock. Or maybe it's even because they know they had it coming. Either way, they never cry. They just limp sheepishly back to their parents' side where they should have been in the first place. Hehh!

Okay, okay, so I was an angst-ridden psycho in my turbulent youth! But now that I am a parent, I realise that just like I once prowled the malls for naughty kids, someone out there is doing the very same even as I write this. Therefore, as a responsible parent, I will refrain from giving my child roller shoes. I will also endeavour to educate my son in the ways becoming of a respectable and well-mannered child so that he will not be subjected to the same fate as my victims of yesteryear.

And if all else fails, a knee in the gut will be just as effective. Okay, okay, I'm kidding. I promise.