Friday, June 24, 2011

Close My Eyes And Count To Ten

As a one-plus year-old, Matthew couldn't eat a cookie for he would gag and choke, while others his age crunched down two at a time. He was spoonfed porridge until the age of three.

Last December, I found him on the sofa intently studying a full-colour Christmas catalogue of roasts and platters. Another time, we walked through Cold Storage and he got all excited at something he saw. "Look! Mummy, look!" It turned out to be a picture hanging on the wall, something like this.

From being so talkative in primary one until teacher had to put him at a lone desk right in front of the class, his P4 report book now says he is a quiet boy who prefers reading by himself. Harry Potter worked his magic alright!

But, he still waxes lyrical about all kinds of dishes. Start him on the topic and he'll go on and on, considering the possibilities, imagining and describing the nuances achieved by each little variation, and all I need to do is go uh-huh, yeah, mm, and he won't stop. I think his favourite is the Stuart Anderson's Black Angus medium rare ribeye with red wine sauce.

Oh, yesterday he came home having completed a three-day course. He's now capable of sailing an Optimist single-handedly. Pity no photo since we just dropped him off at the club so we never actually saw him doing it. But as some sort of evidence, we have a severely water-warped and tatty copy of the "Deathly Hallows," that only very recently arrived from The Book Depository. All thanks to him allowing it to cosy up to my precious pair of Gill gloves, still wet from the sea. Argh! But, wait a minute, he can actually wear them!

Friday, June 17, 2011

Good Things Come In Threes

Yes, Rachel's turn. Or, at least, she used to do it at least once a week until we found the solution. More about that in a minute.

Like her sisters did before her, this girl played with the contents of her diaper when she woke up from a nap in her cot. Not only that, she's a real Houdini, capable of escaping from all her different types of clothes, no matter how hard we tried to prevent her having access to her diaper. No use pulling on a pair of pyjama pants over her bodysuit cos she would manage to pull it off, she even managed to wriggle out of a zipped up wearable blanket that they're not supposed to be able to get out of! Wasted my fifty-over bucks getting that thing!

Until I saw the solution, hanging at a pushcart selling baby clothes at one of the MRT station malls. Simple - instead of putting on the pyjama pants after the bodysuit, put the pants on first before snapping the bodysuit over and outside the pants. This way, she can't pull the pants off!

Problem solved. No more poo-smeared cot and baby. HUGE sigh of relief.

Thursday, June 09, 2011

The Pox! - Part II

Yes, this time it's Sophie. She wasn't yet born the last time it happened, and we stupidly forgot all about it afterwards, so she wasn't vaccinated.

At first we thought it was the dreaded Mouth Disease AGAIN, since she had a fever and was complaining of ulcers, plus a tiny liquid bubble on the corner of her lips. Then, the next day, I noticed that she had some small broken blisters on the side of her face and neck, and a couple on her chest, and one of them was also liquid filled! Alarm bells went off in my head - this was way beyond HFMD.

So, another trip to the doctor. We came back with antiviral tablets that seem to work quite well at halting the onslaught of spots - she has far fewer than the hundreds Matt had.

On the up side, we now have a legitimate reason not to take her with us to Universal Studios next Monday, compared to just telling her that she is still too short for most of the rides. She is quite the long-suffering little patient who accepts all her illnesses with amazing equanimity, totally unexpected given her usual chilli padi ways.

Oh, luckily, Rachel has been vaccinated. We're not THAT stupid!