For those who blog, do you know who is your number ONE reader?  Well, I know mine.  It’s none other than my husband, who reads my blog daily and critiques my entries, telling me what I should or shouldn’t be writing.  

It irks me completely that he ignores all my warnings and continues to comment on my blog entries, as if I’m writing his blog, and making insensitive remarks like:

“Eh, why are your entries of late so boring?” 
“Huh, this kind of personal stuff also blog?”
“Wa, someone starting to show her own face huh?”
“Er, why never blog today?”
“See lah, always put me in bad light.”

I’m so freaked out.  By thoughts that one day, I’m going to open up one of my entries and find him commenting in it!  But on second thoughts, it’s not possible.  Because I have comments moderation switched on! 

PHEW.

We went back to my in-law’s place for lunch yesterday.  I didn’t really want to go back, because I no longer feel at ease seeing them after knowing that they might be moving in with us soon.  But I know it’ll be too selfish of me to resist the trip so I just played along. 

Apart from greeting them, I kept conversations minimum.  In fact, even though we ate at the same table, I didn’t even exchange any words with my FIL.  And for that matter, not even eye contact.  Luckily Gavin was entertaining, so the ambience, even a bit cold, wasn’t tense.  My MIL was also trying to warm up the mood, busy serving the dishes and fussing over her son and her grandson.

And I?  I felt like a guest.  Or more precisely, an outsider.  Because I have no blood ties with these people.  Not even my husband.  My own biological link to them was through Gavin.  Even then, it can all get very fuzzy still.   

So all the while I was eating, I was thinking how it would be like to live like that under one roof on a daily basis.  To see each other without establishing proper eye contact.  To speak to one another without exchanging meaningful words.  To share the same table with an obvious lack of affinity and affections.   I even developed paranoia and imagined how my husband might even join them to turn against me one day.

And the only time I felt at ease again was when we retreated into a room, all four of us couped up together.  It made me laughed out loud then, thinking that this would be how we’ll live in future, in our own house.  The man wasn’t amused with my thoughts of course but then, he’s one of them and I’m not. 

Well, I’m laughing out loud while I still can.  In time to come, I’m not sure if I can even laugh anymore. 

Jan of My Lovely Rays tagged me on this.  I think the tag is the meaning behind my kid’s name.  It’s easy to find out the meaning, but I’m taking it a little further to explain my thoughts behind it.

The name Gavin has a Scottish and Welsh origin and its meaning is white falcon.  So positive connotations there, with some hint of bravery.  I picked the name because it sounds close to Kelvin, a name I favour for no particular reason.  I didn’t want to name him Kelvin, thinking that it was too common, so came up with names that sounded like it.  Gavin seems like a good fit and not as commonplace.

He has a Chinese name which we paid for.  I won’t say what it is, except that it sounds good and the strokes are good for him.  But he would have a problem trying to write it out next time himeself though, because the right way of writing it is using the traditional Chinese characters, which is far more difficult than the simplified version. 

Overheard at the office yesterday. 

Colleague calls son:
Did you pack your pencil case in your bag?  Later remember you have a class at 3pm.  Your dad will pick you up k?

Same colleague calls husband later:
You remember to pick up son later k?  And he’s got enrichment class today at 3pm.  You got to send him there.  And tonight please pack dinner for the kids.

Many parents will probably find this rather familiar.   

As babies, it revolves mostly around their feeding and poo poo needs.  Time to feed them, time to pump milk, time to change diaper and time to clean them up.

When they start schooling, it revolves around their education and enrichment needs.  Who sends them to school, who brings them back from school, who coaches their homework, who ensures they’re still clean and well fed.

The onus is usually on the mother to make sure everything is in order.  Get up before the kids do, ensure that food is ready for them on the table and the little ones get to go to school and be picked up on time.  When there’s an emergency, there’s always more stress to ensure that these daily needs are still met and nothing has been disrupted.

Sometimes it’s madness.  Especially for those who have to juggle with several other tasks and still want some private time to maintain their sanity.

Like this other colleague who’s always rushing home during lunch break on some days of the week to do her laundry so that everyone in her household has clean clothes.  This despite the fact that she has part-time domestic help.

And this morning I woke up a little late, had to rush and in between shouted for milk to be prepared, breakfast to be ready, hurriedly told my maid what to cook for the day instead of writing the list like I always do and reminding her to have him ready by 3pm for his Shichida class.  But when I got to the office I realised that I’ve forgotten to ask for an egg to be added in my boy’s soup and promptly called my maid about it.

Well, it was just an egg of course.  But do you know what actually went on in my head while driving to work this morning to make me realised that I’ve forgotten about the egg?

Welcome to reality parenting.  Where quality me-time for some of us is just an illusion.

The boy has been picking up my words of late, parroting everything that I’m telling him.  Work and busy are two words he like to use in particular.

“I got WORK to do….tomorrow I got to do some WORK.  I got colouring and writing…tomorrow I must WORK at school.”

Then last night he told me this while in bed:

“I got WORK to do.  I must do my WORK.  I got to play my toys…my games.  I got many games to play.  I’m very BUSY.  I’m so BUSY.”

Good thing I’ve been controlling my tongue and not uttered vulgarities while in his presence these days.  But my Ah Beng rap has apparently rubbed off him as well cos I just heard him saying “Au Au Pong Sai Gao” earlier today.

That’s woof woof fluffy head dog in Hokkien by the way. 

Okay,  better mental rap from now on.