funny

I can’t get penguin to sleep!

It is Monday morning. I’m driving Angus to the speech therapist.

Me: “Would you like to have a babycino at the cafe afterwards?”
Angus: “Sometimes I have a babycino with marshmallows but today I’m having a milkshake.”

* * *

Angus and I are on the way to a birthday party.

Angus: “Mummy, I like you…today.”

* * *

It is 2am in the morning. Rick and I wake up to the sound of Angus screaming in his room.

Rick goes in to investigate.

Rick: “Angus, what’s wrong?”
Angus: “Daddy, I can’t get penguin to go to sleep!”
Rick: “Okay. Let’s put him on the pillow. He can sleep there.”
Angus: “Is he awake?”
Rick: “No.”
Angus: “Can you check?”
Rick: “Penguin, are you awake?” Silence. “He’s quiet, so he’s asleep.”
Angus: “Put him on his back, daddy!”
Rick: “Okay, he’s on his back now. Go to sleep Angus.”
Angus: “Goodnight daddy.”

* * *

It is Sunday morning, and I’m trying to park our Discovery at church.

Angus: “Mummy, you have to park between the two white lines.”

* * *

It is Thursday evening, and I’m a bit upset with Rick for messing up one of the kitchen drawers.

Angus watches as I leave the room.

Angus: “Daddy, can you do the right thing to make mummy happy?”*

*Rick would like me to point out that he usually does. Tis true. He usually does.

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My culinary skills made me cry yesterday

Don’t be fooled.

This photo has nothing to do with my culinary skills. These were in fact some mussels I enjoyed during our holidays. Not cooked by me.

Yesterday I tried to chop an onion.

I wanted to get those beautiful onion rings to add to my, ahem, pre-made supermarket salad.

Sadly, for me, cutting up an onion has not yet made it to my list of skills. Even though I am thirty-one years old.

This became obvious yesterday when I massacred an entire onion without producing any said onion rings. For something like five to ten minutes, tears streamed down my face as I wrestled with the frigging stubborn onion.

My high-pitched cries of distress and frustration must’ve echoed all the way to the studio, where Rick was quietly working from home.

Thankfully, my husband is a compassionate and non-judgmental kind of guy.

Graciously, he came out to inspect my onion and said matter-of-factly, “Yes, you have massacred the onion.” With no hint of who-is-this-person-whom-I-have-married whatsoever.
(I am a blessed woman.)

Gently, he told me to save the massacred onion for dinner, brought out a second onion and proceeded to show the idiot me how you actually chop an onion. Properly.

My mother-in-law should be so proud.

Happy weekend everyone!

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“I am a good pusher mummy!”

It is night-time. I notice that the boys’ bedroom light is on. Again.

I am not pleased.

I go into their room, give Angus the sternest look I can muster and flick the light switch off.

Me: “Don’t turn the light on again, okay Angus? Do you understand?”

Angus: “I think so mummy.”

* * *

In the car. I’m trying to explain to Angus why he is not to push Pete again.

Me: “It is not loving to push other people. And Pete is your brother. So please don’t push him again, okay? Angus?”

Pause.

Angus: “I’m a good pusher, mummy!”

* * *

Several moments later…

Angus: “My favorite toy is a Land Rover.”

* * *

Outside. Somewhere.

Me: “Oh my goodness!”

Angus: “Oh my goodness!”

Me: “Oh. My. Goodness.”

* * *

Lunchtime. I am trying to convince Pete to stop pouring milk all over himself.

Me: “Listen to me Pete!”

Angus: “Listen to me too, Pete!”

Me: “Pete, listen to mummy!”

Angus: “Pete, listen to Angus!”

* * *

Me: “How did you take off Pete’s sleeping bag?”

Angus: “I undo the button, undo the zip and take it off!”

* * *

Morning. I am still in bed. My blindfolds are still on.

Angus runs in. I feel little hands trying to take my blindfolds off.

Angus: “Mummy, it’s time to wake up because it’s not night time anymore.”

* * *

Me: “Have you done a big poo?”

Angus: “I need to go to daddy.”

Me: “Yes you do. Go now.”

(Linking up with Mon’s joy packets!)

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The inaugural Mason Awards

Friends, I have run out of clothes.

Hence I think my outfit snaps have drawn to an end. No need to cry, there shall now be other (more interesting) photos on Fridays!

Like these happy snaps I got of the boys earlier this week. They’re not the best shots, I know, but do you have any idea how ridiculously hard it is to get a photo of all three boys? Next to impossible. Of course, my very lame directions didn’t help: “Pete, stop running around. Pete, turn around. Angus, stand here. No, sit there. Actually, can you get Pete for me? Pete? Pete!”

Anyway, bear with me as I hand out some awards tonight:

To our little James, for finally breaking the 40 minute nap cycle. Well done, little man, your mummy could not be more grateful. (Friends, the curse has been lifted!)

To our cuddly Pete, for transferring successfully from the car and for remaining asleep even as I changed your nappy and your pants. I hope you retain this amazing super-human ability up until you are toilet trained.

To our chatterbox Angus, for being so honest this morning when your daddy asked you if you had been pushing Pete in the cot. “Yes daddy,” was your prompt reply. “Did Pete push you?” “No, Pete is a tiny, tiny baby. He can’t push me.”

To my darling Rick, for giving me an entire day off this week while you looked after the boys. Your selflessness knows no bounds.

To my mum and dad, for welcoming me back into your home on my day off and making me dinner. Loved the prawns, mum.

To my second mum and second dad, for coming over every Friday and Sunday night and helping me put the boys to bed. I mean it when I say this: this household could not function without you guys! (Or at the very least, I would not be half as sane.)

And to all of you reading, for doing just that – for always reading what I have to say, no matter how silly, trivial or mundane.

Happy weekend!

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Rescuing that polaroid collage (literally)

Remember this polaroid collage that I did for the boys’ room?

Well imagine my surprise one morning when I walked in to discover that Angus had systematically ripped all the photos off the foam core board and had very carefully allowed the photos to slip into the very tiny crack that separates the back of the bed and the wall.

A crack so tiny that I couldn’t possibly squeeze even his fingers into it (not that I tried to do such a thing of course), much less my own.

To make matters more complicated, the bed had a backing board that ran all the way to the floor, which meant that I couldn’t even reach the photos from crawling under the bed (not that that was very successful in itself given my watermelon of a belly at the time).

As you can probably imagine, I was not all that impressed with the situation, considering that I had spent the better half of one entire day putting the photo collage together. Indeed, eight months worth of pregnancy hormones coursing through my body at the time had me almost flying over the edge.

More than anything, I was stumped as to how to retrieve the photos. For two whole weeks, I couldn’t work out how to get those photos out. Moving the bed was not really an option as it was too heavy for me, especially as I was 37 weeks pregnant at the time – I could probably have asked Rick to help me but I was rather determined to solve the problem on my own. I’m stubborn like that, you know.

One late afternoon, however, when Rick had taken the boys out to the park, I was suddenly struck by the solution to the problem: the mini gardening set that we had bought for Angus’ 2nd birthday! Why hadn’t I thought of it before? I raced out the front door, grabbed the mini rake from its hanging place and did a little dance for cheap toys made in China (bless my homeland). [click to continue reading…]

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Play School beats MasterChef

We went to the zoo today and it was simply delightful. A huge thanks go to Rick’s parents (“Nan and Pa”) for coming with us and enjoying the day with us (read: helping us with the boys). I have a stack of photos I want to share, but I don’t think I’ll have time to post them tonight, so a little sneak peek of a big giraffe will have to do for now. I would, however, like to leave you with snippets of conversation that Rick and I each had with Angus tonight:

* * *

Rick: “What animals did we see at the zoo today?”
Angus: “Pa and Nan!”

* * *

Me: “Oh no, you’ve torn the map of the zoo!”
Angus: “Mummy get my hammer?”
Me: “Hammer?”
Angus: “Yes, hammer!”
Me: “Hammers are for fixing cars, darling. I think we need sticky tape instead.”
Angus: “Aaaah…. tape!”

* * *

A few minutes later…

Angus: “Mummy’s nose has a piece of snot!”
Me: “Piece of snot?”
Angus: “Yes! Piece of snot in mummy’s nose!”

* * *

And another one from a few weeks ago…

Me (at dinnertime): “Can we watch a cooking show?”
Angus: “Yes!”

I turn on MasterChef.

Angus: “No cooking!”

I feign deafness.

Angus: “No cooking! Mummy, no cooking!”

Me (still hopeful): “Are you sure?”
Angus: “Yes! Play School! Play School!”
Me (resigned): “Okay, Play School it is…”

* * *

And here’s a glimpse of the little boy himself, exhausted after all the zoo fun today…

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The songwriter in me…

This is what I sang to James last night to the tune of Hey Jude:

Hey you, your mummy’s here.
Don’t you worry, I’m going to feed you.
Remember to drink up all of your milk!
Then you will feel a whole lot better…

Music by The Beatles; lyrics by yours truly.

Who would’ve known I had it in me?

Not I.

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All look same?

I just had the funniest (and slightly worrying) conversation with RIck.

Me: What’s the name of the Asian Wiggle?
Rick: What do you mean, there’s no Asian Wiggle!
Me: Yes there is, the one who’s always falling asleep…
Rick: You mean Jeff?
Me: That’s the one – he’s Asian!
Rick: No he’s not.
Me: Yes he is.
Rick: No way!
Me: Are you kidding me – how can he not be Asian?

He then reached for my iPhone and Googled it.

Oh and guess what? Jeff Fatt is Chinese, and is in fact “one of the most popular Asian performers in the world.”

Thank you internet, Google and Wikipedia.

I really don’t know what to make of this, except that perhaps being married to an Asian has somehow dulled Rick’s ethnic senses? Which then makes me wonder – what would he say about Dorothy the Dinosaur….?

(Did you know that All Look Same is now a blog?)

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Separated at birth?

Have you ever read your child a children’s book and been struck by how much one of the characters remind you of yourself or someone you know? This is from a book called ‘Reading’ by Jan Ormerod, and oh my goodness, this could be Rick with any one of our boys! Love it!

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Conversations with Angus

It is evening. Rick has just picked up Angus from my mum’s and they are coming home.

Angus: “Sun go down and moon come up!”

* * *

It is midday. I’ve just arrived home with the boys from bible study.

It is time for Angus to go down for his nap, which he has been resisting for a couple of days.

Me: “I’ll close the door if you get out of bed.”

Angus: “Gor gor stay in bed if door leave open.”

* * *

It is morning, and Angus is watching Play School while I’m feeding James.

On screen, Justine and Matt are drawing a cow.

Angus turns around to look at me.

Angus: “Milk come out of cow…. and mum!”

* * *

I am in the car with the boys.

We are at Carlingford Court and I’m trying to park.

I realise I am about to hit a pole.

Me: “Oh dearie me!”

Angus: “Oh dearie me!”

* * *

It is dinnertime. Angus and I are talking about babies.

All of a sudden…

Angus: “Daddy come out of nan!”

* * *

It is afternoon, and Angus and I are both in the studio.

He is playing with my animal elastic bands from Kikki K.

I point to the rabbit one and ask him what it is.

Angus: “Hop, hop, bang, bang!”

I make a mental note to talk to Rick about the “bang, bang!”

* * *

It is dinnertime yet again, and we are running very late.

I am utterly exhausted.

As I’m trying to get Angus to eat his pork and rice, I burst into tears.

Angus: “What’s the matter mummy? Mummy sad?”

Me: “No, mummy’s very weary.”

Angus: “Kiss mummy?”

Me: “Yes please…”

Angus kisses me on the cheek.

Angus: “Mummy happy now?”

Me (heart melting): “Yes darling, thank you.”

I kiss him back.

Me: “I love you little man…”

(*Gor gor is Cantonese for older brother.)

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