I remember my mom watching me ordered bee-tai-bak during my recess time on the first day of school.  So all along, I thought I would be doing the same – to watch the boy have his food during his recess from afar.  But it looks like the policies at the schools have all changed now and we can no longer linger at the school.  And instead of watching, here I am, writing this post while hoping that the boy ate well.

Anyway, I don’t think we have much to worry as the school has in place, a buddy system so the boy should not be feeling too lost.  He was really enthusiastic about going to school, as we were excited about his first day as well.

There were so much stuff to prepare!  Getting his study room ready. Fixing the right lights for his room.  Getting his glasses prescribed. Arranging the school transport. Purchasing his textbooks.  Finding the right wrappers for the textbooks. Searching for the right school bag. Buying the stationery.  And…making labels for all his belongings.

Thank goodness his dad took most of the initiatives because I was as usual, as nonchalant as ever. Well, it’s not that I don’t care but I’m just not into such detailed preparation. Plus, I really don’t know how.   As it is, I messed up the pick up time with the school bus and he was driven to school instead.  And that was the only thing I sort of took charge of.

But at least, I saw him enter the school safely. At the least, I saw his happy face as he made his way to his classroom. And at the least, I was present for him as he entered into a new chapter of his life.

It’s funny I keep bumping into people I know more than a decade ago.  Some more than two decades even!  The latest I bumped into was a friend I used to party like three times a week in my 20s and yet, I couldn’t recognise her.  Well, not at first. 

I took note of her only because she kept looking my way.  I glanced at her momentarily and sort of found her vaguely familar, but I couldn’t place her immediately.  It was only hours later that I managed to put two and two together.  It was a bit scary considering we used to be quite close and I couldn’t recognise her!  Maybe it was because we saw each other mostly at night then?  HA!

How much do people change in a decade?  I looked at my ex-boss and I was a bit shocked at how much he has aged; although I could recognise him.  I saw an ex-classmate whom I’ve not seen in almost 30 years and I managed to call her name.  But this woman was different.  When I looked at her face then, I had little impression.  What happened?  Was it her hairdo?  Was it my failing eye sight?  Or was it because I simply have erased her from my memory?

I wonder how I look to people whom I’ve not seen in a decade or more?  Most seem to tell me that I look about the same – not that I haven’t aged – but I guess it’s because I haven’t changed much in terms of weight and *ahem* height.  Or perhaps it was because I have made an impression on them. 

But what about in another 10 or 20 years?  Will I be able to recognise or remember people I used to know?  And will I be recognised and remembered too?

I’m not extremely busy this period but I haven’t felt very compelled to blog in this space. Initially, I thought I’ll keep to once a week but obviously I haven’t been on track. The boy is going to P1 next year and rather than spending my time in the cyberworld, I really prefer to enjoy time with him in the real world.

He’s becoming a real blabbermouth at anything and everything. I’m thankful that there’s school to keep him occupied or I’ll really go bonkers listening to him all day long.  Other than that, I do enjoy our times together at the library, reading books, or playing UNO. I’m also able to bring him out on my own now, thanks to the fact that he doesn’t need to be carried but just need to be reminded not to cause me any embarrassment. And I do love holding his little hand and listening to his baby voice. 

I guess I just want to enjoy mothering him while I can - before he grows taller than me, and in a blink of an eye, is legally able to drink beer.  For now, it’s good he’s just able to sniff at it.

Yesterday, I met my ex-boss, some 13 years later.   I was trying on an umbrella and suddenly, someone shouted my name.  I looked up and what confronted me was an aged man, with a crop of grey hair.  “It’s XX!”  And the first thing I asked was, “what happened to you?  How come your hair is all grey now?”  Even my husband who knows him was shocked.  My ex-boss is six years older than me, but he’s looking like an ah-peh now.  

I guess 13 years is a long time; long enough for everyone around me to grow a lot older.  I’ve got colleagues my age falling seriously ill.  I can sometimes hardly recognise my siblings after a year.  Even my mom looks a lot older just after two weeks.  And it doesn’t help that her health is suffering and she has been talking about death.  

Suddenly, growing old seems such a sad thing.  

The energy is lacking.  The fire is waning.  The memories are fading.  And I wonder why they call it the golden years?  Because it certainly looks a lot more grey than gold to me.

Finally, the agonising is over! Boy am I glad that he has secured a place in the school of our choice – without having to go through balloting. Otherwise, I’ll be blaming myself for not doing anything during the past year to ensure a proper foundation for my son’s future is laid.   In fact, the truth is, I haven’t done a single thing about his primary one registration.  Not one bit unless nail biting and head scratching count for something.

Everything was handled by his dad, who took time to go through the enrollment process, read various forums for inputs and went on-site to check out the school grounds.   He even made sure he was down at the school first thing during that morning of registration.  The only thing I did was to tell him that I hope we won’t end up like those parents who cry when their kid isn’t successful during the balloting.

Someone wrote in a forum that parents shouldn’t complain about the primary one enrollment system here given that we have six years to plan for our kids’ education.  HA.  The best I can do is six days.  And I still like to complain that the system sucks!