I never had that confidence in knowing everything about being a great mum. I’ll be worrying about the kids and then chastising myself for worrying. I lost count of how many times I didn’t know something and had to let good ole common sense tide me over.

I felt it in the past when I had to work and I get pointed remarks like how we ought to be stay home mums if we decide to have kids.

I feel it now as a stay home mum, that I should somehow do more for them. Yes, I know I have issues.

Sometimes I think I got a whole load of  baggage when it comes to my kids. BAH.

What makes me really excited about moving to Oz is the lower price of organic stuff and the possibility of having a big garden to grow my own herbs and vegetables!

For now, these will do just fine. Nom nom nom.

We have our routine down pat. The girls will go off gaming while we will be vegetating at either Coffee Bean or Starbucks, or grocery shopping at the lovely stretch of Organic Mart, Sakuraya and San Espirito, after which we will pick them up for Berrylite yogurt and go poke around Border’s, Exim Arts and Pet Lovers Centre. Oh, and the Watson’s at PP? LOVE. Don’t get me started on Isetan and the beauty counters.

We were there again last weekend chillin’ but this time there was hmm, something different. You know, like a cockroach smacked flat in the middle of a Monet SOMETHING.

SPGs. All eight of them, one after another, in the span of a few hours. Was it SPG Day or something?

I have nothing against Asian women dating white men. I have girlfriends dating or married to white guys and they cannot be further from the SPG tag. So what’s my irk? It’s clearly not their preference – I have dated white men before, I just don’t share the perceived superiority in doing so. Rather, it’s the typical SPG behaviour I find distasteful – the poor dress sense, the fake accent, the strange compulsion towards public displays of affection/ lust and the one thing that befuddles me the most – the grand air of superiority in snaring  a white old man.

Put yourself in my shoes. We were enjoying ourselves, engaging in light hearted banter while people watching and shopping. It’s all good. Suddenly SPG zeros in on the horizon, sucking on white tonsils, pushing her insufficient but overexposed bosom against white chest while unleashing annoying giggles and an incomprehensible accent onto us innocent bystanders while looking extremely smug (why, I wonder).

ANNOYING.

K told me about her neighbour fooling around with his maid. That won’t be the first story I heard about maids getting it on with their white bosses. Before you think I am thumbing my nose at maids, I am not. I think any man or woman pulling a meal ticket on their boss is just poor form. If there is one thing I hope to teach my daughters, it is to make a honest day of living on your own capabilities and resourcefulness, but those capabilities and resourcefulness do not include making sheep’s eyes at your boss or worse, sleeping your way up.

Strangely though, I was not concerned about how such a display of unwise womanhood will register on my girls. I believe in not shielding them from the ugliness of life. If anything, I welcome the opportunity to talk about it.. And where else do you get such wonderful real life ‘how not to be’ scenarios?

But bearing in mind I am the same mother who mentally plans survival strategies in case the ferry sinks, I did have some terrifying ‘what if’s going on at the back of my mind but they were querulously silenced by an incisive remark from my daughter.

I am proud.

Anyway, a lady in the gym took off her glasses as she was doing her rounds, and I was struck by how small her eyes look without her glasses on. I say this with no bitchiness – it’s just that the observation was rather startling. Her eyes had looked lovely and well, big behind her glasses.

After mucking around online, I learnt that long-sighted lenses make your eyes look bigger. Well well, what do you know.

I almost wished that I had long sightedness instead. Bleah.

The weirdest thing is, I don’t think I know anyone who is long-sighted. Holler if you are, won’t you?

Of course, I have to mention how she painstakingly copied SIX pages of lyric just so she can serenade me from the pages (so cute!)

And then there is that incident where her friend chanced upon our cutesy neoprint and made a comment like ‘Wah, your mum’s quite fat’.

Our friend positively puffed up her chest and bellowed,

‘You don’t know anything ok! My mum is exercising now and she lost a lot of weight OK!’

She was still bristling indignant when she related the matter after ballet class. Heh.

On a sidenote:

Gean’s first day at school.

There’s something very poignant about this photo that I can’t put my finger on.

Me: I just thought of a great money making idea for Oz. I could knock on the neighbours’ doors and threaten to do a striptease. Think of all the money I could make from them just paying me not to do it. I’d just need to go door to door, say ‘hello’ and collect the payments.

He: No no… To save time, they can just deposit into your account.

Me: *screams with laughter* Exactly! I’d only show up for those who don’t make payment… *pretends to speak to neighbour: ‘So, Mr Longman, there is an outstanding payment from you. I’m afraid I’d have to…’ pretends to be ‘Mr Longman’ who looks all panicky: ‘No, no, please! My wife was ill so she couldn’t go to the bank yesterday! I’d pay tomorrow!!’

He: *raises his eyebrow ‘Tomorrow’?

Matthew 6:25

“Therefore I say to you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing?

I used to think that this had little to do with me till I learned that the Christian perspective of worry is a ’self-oriented assumption of responsibility’. Now that’s interesting to me because I am was a control freak who needs to be on top on everything I do, which is essentially, a worrywart. So yes, I have all the stress related afflictions you can imagine, which is frankly, stupidly self afflicted.

So, one of my resolutions in 2010 to be as cool as a cucumber and to trust in Jesus for all my wants and needs. Shalom!

And I gotta love how I get revelations in my life. It can be a thought placed in my mind, a messenger through spoken or written words or the best – in conversations with my kids during bedtime.

Germs was sharing with me about her church friend who was a stellar student  and who, would you believe it or not, never had a day of tuition or enrichment classes in her life. Yes, none of those Berries/ Kumon/ Tien Hsia/ so many other extras that kids need to plough through after school each day.

I thought about my kids.

Germs aced her English and Science despite no not much help from my department. No, I am so not the flashcards and home experiments kinda mom. I also love how she actively tries to improve herself in the Chinese language and to immense in the culture, despite us being a primarily English speaking household . I used to despise Chinese who proudly proclaimed themselves to be bananas, but now I just feel sad for them, that they have robbed themselves of a culture so richly steeped in history, values, pride and for want of an appropriate English word – ???So I am quite proud that she really makes the effort to read classics like ???? and to explore, say the origins of Chinese festivals. I have faith that she will do well again. Math is a subject that both she and I have been eluded of a natural aptitude so she is getting some help from a really competent teacher, who I can only say is a godsend. The rest of her time she spends doing what she enjoys – reading, playing games on her DS and FB, skateboarding and her school sports.

Gean, my baby girl, just started on Primary 1 this year (which should really warrant a post all of its own!). And bless her, she tells me in that innocence so devoid of arrogance and pride, she finds her P1 syllabus strangely easy. Which is to say that Wesley and YWCA have done great jobs in not only nurturing a kind, sensitive and loving child, they have also educated her well.

I then realize how unknowingly we have been blessed, that in my ridiculously relaxed attitude when it comes to the kids, that in my determination that they should enjoy their extremely limited childhood in this extremely competitive country, He has blessed the children so abundantly in every area, be it their studies, interests, sports, character, health and well being.

I shudder to think of what if, if I had been the same control freak in their lives as I had been in my own. I am humbly thankful.

What I am saying is, when we rest in God, He does his work which is so much more perfect than any one of us can ever achieve.

Time to aim for that level of wisdom in the other areas of my life! And yes, when I got hospitalized (yet again) for a gastro condition, it’s not a lack of blessing in the area of my health.  It’s really Him trying to get through my thick skull – let go.

Of course I didn’t. Bo eng lor, I spent the whole day kite-flying and cycling with my girls.

Not that I didn’t think that the way the group wriggled themselves into the hot seats were any decent, mind you. Subterfuge behaviour is not any self respecting Christian will endeavour towards, and I believe there were more than a few Christians who took exception to such funky tactics.

OK the thing is this. I never thought AWARE to be any organization to be representative of my rights or my beliefs. They did some good things for some people,  no doubt about it, but even in my moments of literal blue and black inflicted by the ex, AWARE had not one sliver of relevance in my life.

I am aware that this might not win me a popularity award (like that would stop me), but I make no apologies for saying this. How I stood up again and moved on with my life, how my mum carved a niche for herself a male-dominated workplace and the educational opportunities paved for my daughters etc etc. had not a fig to do with AWARE.

I respect the goal of equal rights, choice and opportunities, but the beauty of feminism and standing up for one’s own rights is exactly that – a personal empowerment and an individual responsibility. There is strength in numbers perhaps, but still, it is an individual responsibility. Not the empowerment of an organization to do it on your behalf. And certainly not to support the flawed argument fronting the hidden agenda of the old guard, which is to seize on the anti-gay element of COOS and work it with a frenzy to their advantage.

To sum it up, Josie Lau and group lost primarily because of their subterfuge tactics, the delusionally grandiose Thio Su Mien and most importantly the non action of a people who couldn’t bring themselves to support stealth tactics and who believed that religion had no place in a secular organization that aimed to cater to all women across race and religion. Not that we were all rooting so badly for the old guard.

Iif Josie and gang had not been sneaky from the start, had not been burdened with the Feminist Mentor (snort!) and had padded up on their media savvy, the old guard probably did not stand a chance. Indeed, going by the public sentiment and general comments in blogs, a lot of people seemed to think that the old guard are being a bunch of sore losers and were inclined to give the new (now old) exco a chance to prove themselves. Too bad they shot themselves in the foot with the ’sit down and shut up’ phrase (which the whole world repeated to death thereafter) and the antics demonstrated throughout the whole circus act.

And a circus act it was. Looking at the videos on youtube was painful, to say the least. Ladies who behaved unlike ladies (yes I know they were provoked, but still), tolerance and manners were left outside the locked doors, infantile snatching of microphones, shouting, shoving, threats and other ugliness which should not have seen the day were strangely celebrated in a proclaimed feat of victory for liberation, democracy and human rights.

I wonder.

The few who came out smelling like roses were people like Irene Ang who managed to put forth her argument in a most articulate and thankfully, non hysterical way, Braema Mathi who tried to put some sense into an unruly crowd and Josie Lau – yes, she carried herself in a dignified and collected manner throughout the ruckus despite being heckled and booed at, which is more than I say so for the rest of the fight club.

If you were there, and you remained calm and in control despite the circumstances and the environment, kudos to you too. Drop me a note, won’t you.

What was also interesting was the gay crowd’s response to the whole debacle. Except for a very vocal minority (though by the amount of noise they made, you would have thought they are the majority) who seemed to delight in a victim mentality and for whom ‘pro-family’, ‘Christian’ and ‘fundamentalist’ are dirtier profanities than ‘fuck’, the rest of the gay people seemed to take the view of the majority of the female population who did not attend the EGM – it had neither relevance nor impact and they probably don’t give a damn too.

I also don’t fathom the victim mentality. The last time I asked around, most people have gay and lesbian friends, some of whom we are even tight with. There is not one person in our circles of friends, extending beyond six degrees of separation, of whom we know to be ‘pro-family homophobes‘. Maybe I am moving in the wrong circles. Heck, even my mum who is so conservative that she blushes at the sight of my thongs hanging out to dry has this to say about gays – ‘they are also human, what‘.

And in all honesty, Singaporeans are quite a tolerant and even accepting bunch of people when it comes to gays and gay rights. At least we all co-exist peacefully though sometimes not so comfortably in a social context, which is more than I say for homosexual acceptance in countries like Iran, UAE or even our dear neighbour, Malaysia. So what if you have a few haters in a population of millions?

So, the way I see it, the whole saga had nothing to do with gay or anti-gay agendas (though it was cleverly made use of by the old guard) and religion (those nasty Christians!). It was all but a  painfully grace-less exit grandiosely peppered with different agendas and masterfully orchestrated by some.

So what if Josie and gang won? Do they have any real power to impose their anti-gay agenda? Well, they do if we let them. And that’s what I am saying, people.

Really at the end of the day, it’s a non issue. It doesn’t affect me in any way who controls AWARE. The rest of the female/ gay/ straight population who did not turn up at the EGM probably think so too.

And for those who fought so hard for the Josie Lau group to be removed and for the old guard to be reinstated – your tenacity and commitment in fighting for what you believed in were admirable. But. What now?

**

UPDATE

What do you know, the President of AWARE, Dana Lam has written to the press to protest about the ‘objectification of women’ and the ‘cost suffered by other women’. Again, I understand the unspoken expectation to write in and make some form of official objection given her position, but frankly I think it is more empowering to feel that women don’t need to be stood up for (even by another member of the sex) and to respect other women’s decisions and rights, though you might not agree with them. Unfortunately, despite her best efforts, there is that underlying current of one gender being pitted against the other.

Don’t get me wrong – I think the strength of women who come together for a common goal and purpose should not be underestimated. But as opposed to making a stand against a worldly sexism, how about the amplification of a stand for the healthy respect and appreciation of a woman’s beauty and strengths?

And trust me, men know the very difference between the women who welcome being valued proportionately to the size of their breasts, and those who want to be valued for their character and contribution.

In any case, how do you lose your own self worth, respect and dignity based on another’s behaviour?

To say that the ‘indignity is suffered only by one gender’ was probably stretching it a little. To be brutal, the very existence of women who ‘welcome being valued proportionally to their breasts’ is to make women who ‘want to be valued for their character and contribution’ look that much better.

After all, you must have stupid to showcase clever, non?

The kids and I had a grand time making cheesecake the other day. They were in charge of crushing the Oreo cookies for the base but made a fine mess all over the table and floor.

Germaine asked me if I was angry as I was cleaning up. I told her, “What is there to be angry about. Just clean up.”

I would have thrown a mini fit in the past

I also felt appalled at how I used to spend like the last of the big spenders.

And then there is that temper. I’d like to think that I have mellowed with time, but I wonder.

There is probably an enormous amount of anger and rebellion pent up in me because of the unhappiness in the last ten years. It probably dissipated over time, but I think a residual effect remains. I will never forget the one time I lost it and lashed out rather severely at a friend’s betrayal.  I did not like that person I became and that is what scares me. That need to hurt, and badly too.

I am sad to confess that this had not mellowed with time. I feel rather ominously that it is merely lying dormant till the ‘next big thing’. So I take the chicken(?) way of taking steps to pre-empt possible triggers. I distance myself from people from which I can sense potential trouble. I avoid certain situations where I might possible flare up.  In short, I walk away but still wish them all the best. Anger might not be a bad thing in certain situations but frankly, I value the peace and harmony in my life now way too much.

For now, I am the paragon of serenity.

For now, the mental image of me sticking chopsticks up their nose and making them say mama will do.

I kid.

On the note of jest, I share this ad which struck a chord with me.

What I really wanted to say is, I got tired of blogging and bloggers.

What is that, you say.  Aren’t you blogging right now.

No.

I am writing out my inner thoughts, not caring of an audience, its existence and its judgement. I am extending an online journal to a faceless stranger. No ads, no stats, no glory, no hits, no identity yet not deliberately anonymous  and honestly, I like it this way. It probably helps that not many know about this place too. The teeming masses (hah!) reading the other blog were starting to get to me.

I am that blogger who resists being a blogger and a wide readership. Like I said, I am quite a contradictory person. (Yes, the poor boyfriend)

Hollering out to an empty void and appreciating the lack of echoes. I guess I got tired of bloggers who blog a certain way to get a certain result but end up losing their inner voice along the way.

My voice will be hollering out noiselessly here.

Thanks for your concern. I must admit I am always (strangely and then pleasantly) surprised when people care.

Well to cut the drama, I was considering to shut  down this blog or to make it private. Feeling too claustrophobic and too vulnerable. People reading this blog that I do not have too high an opinion of. People stalking out this blog for possible ammunition (there she goes shopping again). People sticking their noses into places where they should not be. I have had so many noses sniffing at my virtual ass that I am starting to feel like I have a colonoscopy foisted on me.

It also does not help that my chronic neck and shoulder problem is flaring up worse than ever. It renders me unable to even type sometimes and for someone who depends on bringing in dough word by word, it is tragic.

Have you ever had the experience of having people whom you dislike or have a low regard for read your blog? Care to share your experience?

As for me, I do miss the days where I can talk freely about the snippets of my life to the audience that  comprises primarily of friends and friendly strangers. I am still pondering on my next step of action; that is to make this blog private or to start another blog. Do drop me a note/ comment if you would like to continue reading.

So anyway, here’s mine. Benevolent Ruler huh?

When it comes to Shaping Their Character, you’re

Specific Whether you’re an earth mother or a PTA president (or both!), you’re very concerned with setting specific expectations for your kids’ behavior. You do this both by telling them what to do and acting as a role model, and, in general, you expect them to follow your careful guidance. As a parent, you think you should be very actively involved in fostering your children’s growth, which includes determining what activities they should engage in – sports, tutoring, music, chores, art, yoga, whatever. When it comes to everything from family meals to manners and morals, you know what’s best.

When it comes to Making the Rules, you’re

A Benevolent Ruler When it comes to setting rules and expectations with your kids, you’re sort of a benevolent dictator – in the nicest way. When you know what’s best for them, there’s no need to discuss your decisions. But when it’s appropriate, you’re happy to take a more democratic approach and let your kids have their say. This kind of combination of firmness and fairness means that you can have open discussions with your children while still being able to assert your authority when it matters.

When it comes to Enforcing Discipline, you’re

Firm but Fair You’re firm, but fair. In general, you take an assertive approach to discipline. You think it’s best, since being direct lets kids know what’s expected of them. At the same time, parents like you indicated that children should be allowed some room to be free and explore; you’re happy for your kids to experiment and take chances (within reason), as long as they respect and obey their parents. There’s no purpose served by being overly strict.

Taken by Geanyne

Taken by Germaine

Although I had put on 25kg after the first pregnancy (weight that clung on to me like an ah lian clinging on to her ah beng), my weight had been somewhat constant over the last 10 years. I am at peace with myself, my body and size, though there are days where I feel impossibly fat.

It also helps that I totally see through my own bullshit – so get along with the delusions, excuses and self pity. I am big (and a greasy size 16), so what?

So don’t let the people out there tell you size 0 and not 10 is the way to go. You decide for yourself. Moreover, grooming and style makes for an attractive woman, not the label on the clothing. And that ex fatty who lost some weight and deem it fit to mock other fatties now?

I feel sad for her because it takes a certain amount of ugliness to put other people down.

And between you and me, slim camwhoring bloggers are a dime a dozen but a Queen Latifah size camwhoring blogger.. now that’s rare.

So yes, I am fat and happy. Shoot me.

Quite worthwhile for $2. Taste: 7/10

So my girl came in third for her category in the triathlon. She was a little peeved at losing out to boys – the first and second positions went to older boys. I was a little surprised that they did not segregate the sexes (this girls vs boys thing is so stale) but my guess is that they wanted to just make it a fun event rather than a competitive one.

The ‘prize’  is self explanatory too. No trophy or ribbons like in a competitive event, but a ‘winner’ sticker pasted on a huge tin of Milo.

Me, I am just glad she had fun.

Though I’ve always wondered about the authenticity of Saffy the Bust, Amanda the Gucci-ed lawyer, Barney Chen the gay, Karl the sad friend and Martha the dreadful harpy.

You mean to say these people don’t object to being immortalized for posterity in black and white? Either Jason Hahn has a wonderful hell of an imagination or his friends are extreme good sports.

Either way, it is cool.

Where is my Singapore
The one where our heritage is not trampled
by bureaucratic boots
The one where our culture is not manipulated
by political engineering
The one where we are not told
what our Mother Tongue is

Where is my Singapore
Cold new cement structures
in place of familiar landmarks
Gay world, 7 storey hotel, Van Kleef aquarium, Singapore National Theatre
What are these
our children ask

Where is my Singapore
A fig of imagination
or distant memory?
Plans to banish old buildings and old folks
hatched and birthed
In place, a spanking new Singapore.

Where is my Singapore
Where racial harmony is not racial tolerance
Where our mouths are not sealed
with sedition gags
Where we recognize that tolerance is
but failure in understanding

Where is my Singapore
Where there is no room
for pork barrel politics
Where proper discourse exists
without character assassination
Where welfare is not a dirty word

Where is my Singapore
Pieces of a broken whole.

It would be stupid ignorant of Mr Chee Hong Tat (or anyone else for that matter) to assume that the learning of dialects will automatically be at the expense of our mastery of English and Mandarin. For all the government’s monetary efforts (S$8 million, anyone?) to ‘preserve our heritage’, a move to eradicate our ancestors’ language, culture and customs is painfully contradictory. Gievn the fondness for degree holders and scholars in the government ministries, the lack of understanding and respect for the Chinese culture, heritage and linguistic history is rather unforgivable.

It’s crystal clear that we have been screwed over for political and economic manipulation. So frankly, they should stop screwing with our heritage and do what they do best – losing a couple more billions in portfolios.

And. I am still awed by how a senior civil servant could find no better word than ‘stupid‘ to articulate his arguments.

Foolish to advocate the learning of dialects

I REFER to yesterday’s article by Ms Jalelah Abu Baker (‘One generation – that’s all it takes ‘for a language to die”). It mentioned a quote from Dr Ng Bee Chin, acting head of Nanyang Technological University’s (NTU) Division of Linguistics and Multilingual Studies: ‘Although Singaporeans are still multilingual, 40 years ago, we were even more multilingual. Young children are not speaking some of these languages at all any more.’

To keep a language alive, it has to be used regularly. Using one language more frequently means less time for other languages. Hence, the more languages a person learns, the greater the difficulties of retaining them at a high level of fluency.

There are linguistically gifted individuals who can handle multiple languages, but Singapore’s experience over 50 years of implementing the bilingual education policy has shown that most people find it extremely difficult to cope with two languages when they are as diverse as English and Mandarin.

This is why we have discouraged the use of dialects. It interferes with the learning of Mandarin and English. Singaporeans have to master English. It is our common working language and the language which connects us with the world.

We also emphasised the learning of Mandarin, to make it the mother tongue for all Chinese Singaporeans, regardless of their dialect groups. This is the common language of the 1.3 billion people in China. To engage China, overseas Chinese and foreigners are learning Mandarin and not the dialects of the different Chinese provinces.

We have achieved progress with our bilingual education in the past few decades. Many Singaporeans are now fluent in both English and Mandarin. It would be stupid for any Singapore agency or NTU to advocate the learning of dialects, which must be at the expense of English and Mandarin.

That was the reason the Government stopped all dialect programmes on radio and television after 1979. Not to give conflicting signals, then Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew also stopped making speeches in Hokkien, which he had become fluent in after frequent use since 1961.

Chee Hong Tat
Principal Private Secretary
to the Minister Mentor

Aiyoh, so aunty, can or not.

Indeed, if you had told the uber cool me ten years ago who thought it was so unglamorous to even have to queue to get into a club (I expected to be signed in) that I would one day collect point stickers for my children, I would have laughed querulously in your face.

Then I would have baulked at leaving the partying behind to have kids.

Now, I would baulk at the thought of leaving the kids behind to go partying.

How things have changed.