Some of the things parents have to go through aside from cleaning toilets

It's the second day of Lewis' potty training. So far, he just says 'NO!' to every encouragement to sit on the potty. He was completely dry last night and I'm hoping that he would be like his older brother who was dry in the night before he decided to get rid of day nappies. I'm a bit relaxed now as well, compared to my attempt to potty train Zak in ONE WEEK. That was completely ridiculous and needless to say, it didn't work at all.

This evening, after a lot of chitchat about how spiders would disappear on earth if he continues to wee in his nappy, he decided to ask.for.his.potty! He did a good 'number two' as well, which was very impressive. We all gave him lots of praise and hugs and told him to pull his pants up. He asked, 'like Nana does?' We said yes, although we don't really know how his grandmother pulls her knickers up. And I must say, it's difficult to imagine as well!

Christmas postcard from Japan

I received this Christmas postcard from the gorgeous Caryn in Japan. It's so thoughtful of her. It surely brightened a gloomy post-Christmas hang over.


And then I noticed the words 'creative swap'. Now folks, Caryn is a creative person who could turn dust into glitter, and she does all these swapping stuff with other creative people in the blog world. How am I supposed to join their fun? She has sent me cute bracelets as well and I would like to send her something, too as a way to say thank you. The only thing I could send her that's creative is a Hallmark postcard with the edges cut with a zigzaggy scissors!

I'm thinking of Bakewell Tart. What do you think?



(haha! you thought bakewell tart was something else, didn't you?)

After all the fuzz...

Well, what do you know? Christmas day is over and the eleven-month preparation for the big day just went off in a puff. I feel guilty for all the wrapping paper around me. A few hours before, they were oh-so-lovingly wrapped around boxes, only to be torn in 10 minutes of madness. And the Christmas cards! We can't be satisfied with texting or calling or even saying in person our Christmas greetings. We have to send cards, too, as if it is the only way to validate our season's greetings to people we know. Sometimes, the cards are just signed by the sender, without even indicating who they are for. They're like autographs, on thick paper with some designs, exchanged, and displayed on windows or mantelpieces. Seemingly, the more cards displayed, the better, as it shows that you have a lot of friends, even if you only get to speak to one at least once in 3 weeks.

Receiving cards makes me feel guilty, too. I only sent some to friends in distant places and a few local ones, but when a card is handed to me unexpectedly, I get a feeling of warmth and gratitude, as well as a nagging feeling of obligation to reciprocate. Last night, at a friend's party, there were guests who had cards and pens ready. As soon as they see another guest coming in, they sign the cards off and hand them out. I cannot criticise the thought that went with it but it was like receiving leaflets on the way to a shop announcing an unplanned 70% discount, except that I was grateful for receiving them. They obviously forgot about you or didn't plan to give you one, but since you're there anyway, they give you one, just so you feel you're in their thoughts this Christmas.

As planned (in other words, out of sheer laziness), I didn't give Christmas cards to my work colleagues. I gratefully accepted theirs, and explained why I am not distributing cards to them this year. I promised to give them one on their birthdays, though, and I think they're ok about it. And so hopefully next Christmas, I would only send cards to friends and family in distant places, and when I say distant, it means over a thousand miles away from where I live.

So folks, I hope you all had a sweet and lovely Christmas celebration!

KING LEWIS

For him to wear the headgear and beard, I had to bribe him with ferrero rocher! And in this picture, he is shocked that he is only given one - and he obviously wants more. Sorry, Lewis. I've got my picture!

Sale

It has been madness lately. The closing down of 100-year-old Woolworths meant that there was a very early Christmas sale for toys, children's clothing and kitchenware. I was there of course, joining the band of merry wives buying for my children winter coats that won't fit them until 2010.

If you know a Filipino, you will understand what I'm on about here.

The temperature has been around freezing point lately. There is nothing better to do in this time of the year except stuff myself with comfort food. Two days ago, a parcel of dried and salted fish arrived. Not being able to contain my excitement, I cooked about a dozen of them, while K and Zak were out. Knowing how K would react to the smell, I threw all the windows in the kitchen open. I was already blue when the dried fish was cooked and my fingers felt like they were going to fall off, but hey, I have under my nose the best food in the world.

K and Zak passed by the open windows, came in through the door and declared that they have a new business idea to propose to Dragon's Den: an airspray to combat uncontrollable yobbos, burglars and would-be terrorists. The airspray content would be the smell of cooked dried fish. The potency of a single spray would be equivalent to a million trapped farts with a mixture of pasta vomit. If I agree, I'd be a multi-millionaire in no time. But I have to stop cooking and eating dried fish.

I stared at them trying so hard to stop my chin from shivering. Then we all sat down in the lounge. I ate my dried fish and rice with my coat on while K, Zak and Lewis had their fingers clipped on their noses.