Disco Babies

Having been brought up in a non-religious household (Mum is a non practicing Christian and Dad is a typical Chinese person who adheres to ancestral worship), Christmas doesn't really have any religious significance for us.  For as long as I can remember, it was never really celebrated, gifts were rarely exchanged, Mum opting for the easier task of giving money instead (what does a 7 year old want a tenner for?) and Dad never bothered at all.  For a few years we did decorate our house festively in the same old same old, and I used to sit under the fairy lights listening to Last Christmas by Wham, True by Spandau Ballet, the Rapture album by Anita Baker etc.  

Christmas card giving and receiving was a most political affair at school.  It was an indication of popularity and you only had to look at the design of the card to see just how much the giver liked you or not.  I decided to forego all this "nonsense" by announcing that I would not be "celebrating" Christmas when I turned 13.  I was such an idealist and thought I was such a cool person for shunning such mass commercialisation.  So for years and years, Christmas simply meant, time off school/ university/ work.  

Now, that I have children I have had to think what do I want this festival to mean to our family?  There's no trying to deny that this festival exists, because everything Christmassy is designed to draw the attention of children.  My husband and I do not adhere to any particular religion and it's hard to teach your children that when you do not hold the belief yourself.   So we've decided not to take the high road and just enjoy it as it is, a bit of fun, time off for everybody, a chance to see the extended family etc.  

What better way to round off Christmas Day (after we had to cancel an invitation to a slap up meal because Baby O came down with a fever and was sick) than by having a disco at home.  Blinking fairy lights make for excellent disco illuminations.   The Toddler has some real funky moves (encouraged by her Dad) and even the Baby was givin' it some whilst cruising around.  I think for years to come when my babies have well and truly flown the nest, I will always always remember these moments of true silliness by our little family.  

Oh bite me

I've just returned from a long overdue date night with Hubby, this is only our 2nd outing to the cinema since the week before our daughter was born in March 2006.  

We watched "Twilight" and I'm a bit embarrassed and giggly to admit *swoon*.  Robert Pattinson is not conventionally good looking, but boy did he play the perfect gent to a tee.  I held my breath and my knees trembled in certain scenes.  He's sensitive, strong, protective, attentive, awkward in a cute way, knows how to wow and surprise a girl, is willing to lay down his life for her and plays the piano.  The character is only believable because he is not a man, they certainly don't make them like that in real life *sigh*.  As the Chinese in me would say, "ho yau ying ar!".  I feel like a teenage girl again, ha ha.  Roll on part II.  

Bounce bounce

Tonight was one of those proud mummy moments when my 11 month old pushed back from the stool he was leaning on to freestand and bounce a few times for the first time. 

Although I have been through this milestone before with my daughter, my heart still felt an incredible wobble as I watched him.  My baby son, the one with the beautiful eyes and flirty smile, the one with a delicate constitution who has made my heart extra heavy with worry through his frequent illnesses.  The one whom I cuddled in my arms everyday for months as he projectile vomited.  Nothing broke my heart more than watching this ever skinnier, gaunt looking baby heaving and retching up his meals daily, well maybe except the time they inserted a needle into his tiny 9 month old veins to extract test tubes upon test tubes of blood.  

Yes standing is no big deal, millions of baby achieve this on a daily basis and much earlier for sure.  But I don't care, this is my blog and I can gush about anything I want.

What was I thinking?

You know, before I ever had children, in my mind I was the perfect parent.  I am a well educated intelligent being, so surely getting children to eat their greens, mind their manners and be well behaved was a matter of instilling good habits and appropriate guidance.  I was going to be the embodiment of an earth mother, have endless patience, be loving, kind, fair and just in discipline.  I would not shout at my kids needlessly whenever I was feeling tired or ratty.  My kids would never watch tv, nor eat junk food and would be the epitome of cuteness and endearment.  I was going to be a vision of motherly loveliness.   

Ha ha ha ha, hahahahahaha, ha ha ha ha ha .......... ha ha.  

Blue skies

Today was one of those lovely warm, sunny autumn days, 23C with a kiss of a breeze.  Even rarer still during these months are clear blue, unpolluted skies.  The colours were fantastic, I just wish we'd brought along our DSLR camera instead.  Sun, sea, sand, slides and swings - what's not to love?

Chinese Parenting (I) - Background

Now to give you an idea of where my mad ramblings stem from, I have to give you some background to my childhood.  My parents were born here in HK during the 1940s, and as was typical of the indigenous Chinese people living in the New Territories back then, many decided to head for pastures greener in the West.  My dad, ended up in Dublin aged 15 washing dishes in a Chinese restaurant and years later came back to HK to marry girlfriend no. 13 (or so I was told, i.e. my mum) and take her to settle with him in Nottingham.  Big sister and big brother were born in the 1960s in the UK (mum was only 19 when she had my sister) and I was born in the earlyish 1970s back here in HK.  We all returned back to London when I was still an infant.  

Straight after university I packed my bags to leave the country, was an expat in Japan for 2 years, spent 6 months studying putonghua at a Beijing university before landing in HK jobless and penniless 9 years ago.   I haven't really been back "home" properly since then and the nature of my husband's job means that the UK is very unlikely to be on the horizon.  

So despite living in London all my young life, my upbringing was still very traditional Chinese in many ways, maybe even more so than had it been in Hong Kong because of the nature of Chinese communities and how they function abroad.   

My parent's generation had no real incentive to learn English fluently because the London Chinese have their very own fully functional Cantonese microcosm - friends, relatives, supermarkets, grocery stores, doctors, accountants, restaurants, take-aways, language schools etc.  

Back when we were growing up, there was no satellite/ cable tv with Chinese channels, internet, long distance calls were expensive, imported Chinese magazines and newspapers were a luxury and only available if you made the trek out to Chinatown in Central London.  Thus change and progress through the times came at a much slower pace for this insular Chinese community.  

For many first generationers, it was only through their kids armed with their English education that forced change and challenged their traditional Chinese ways.  Thus not only did we have to endure the normal generation gap angst, a whole lot of cultural differences, resulting in confused kids and parents were thrown in for good measure.   

Personally, those inner conflicts have manifested themselves in many ways as the years whizzed by, the consequences of which are now playing out in how I choose to raise my children.  (Note: husband is HK born, bred and educated, so that's a whole different set of battles - my kids don't stand a chance!)

A life before

December usually presents itself as an excuse for partying and the gathering of old friends.  So despite being a SAHM (stay at home mum) for almost a year now, I was really surprised to receive a few invites for celebrations with ex-colleagues and ex-employers.  So it was with great glee (read: a legit excuse to get out of daily kiddie dinner-bath-bed routine), that I R.S.V.P. ed, "yey!"

Now, on some bad days where both kiddies are whinging, the Baby is a permanent klingon to my hip and the Toddler is throwing tantrums seemingly at the drop of a hat (or toy, most likely) for no good reason other than to wind Mummy up, I sometimes yearn for the "peace and quiet" of the office environment, where I can just put my head down and work on whatever the latest, most urgent, demanding thing is with a warm drink and not be disturbed for hours if needs be.  

But at tonight's gathering, I realised what I missed most about working at this particular company.  It was being surrounded by young, truly talented, intelligent, hard working individuals who really believed (at that time) in what we were trying to achieve.  A truly inspiring time.  I'm sure things didn't pan out the way we had envisioned for a lot us, but there were a few who remain highly successful and respected in their chosen paths to date.  

Looking across the recognisable faces in the room last night, why were some more outstanding than others?  It wasn't necessarily the cleverest ones, or the ones who toiled the longest hours, it was the ones who were the most connected, resilient, thick skinned and socially charming.  Now, how do I teach that to my children??

Letting go ....

A few months ago, I received a request for the piles of outgrown baby clothes that I have accumulated from my now 10 month old son and 32 month old daughter.  No problem I thought, it's just taking up space anyway ..... until I started to sort through them.  

When I was pregnant with my son, I did giveaway some of the obviously girly clothes that I couldn't recycle for him.  At that time, the purge of old things felt necessary because we had to make room for this new baby in our lives.  

However, this time round, I just sat there feeling all sad, surrounded by tiny tiny vests, babygros, trousers and mini socks.  Every item of clothing I chose to pass on was very reluctantly put into a big red-white-blue nylon storage bag.  I was really surprised at how upset I was this time.  For a few minutes I worried, did this mean I loved my son more???

Then it dawned on me.  I was sad, not for making good use of old clothes, but because in my heart I knew that there was not going to be another baby in the house.  There will be no more pregnancy dramas, no more teeny weeny hands and feet to wash and no more yummy warm newborn to snuggle.  Our family, the 4 of us, as it stands for now is complete.  So, why I am still struggling?

The Negotiator

M: "Ok now, no more kissing Mummy."

Toddler: "No"

M: "Look, just one last one. I'm not Zac Effron."

Toddler: "No, how about twelve?"

The older generation

With the kids and me being sick and all, it was time to call in the cavalry in the form of Por-Por (maternal grandma).  I did not expect my mother to take this role so literally as I walked into a scene, complete with sound effects and bad acting, where she and Ah Hei were pretend shooting dead each other with improvised lego toy guns.  

No disrespect to my mother as she is a great Por-Por, it's just that she has never read a "Western" parenting book, and thus has not caught up with what is trendy/ right/ appropriate/ faddy these days.  Her generation didn't need all this "advice" paraphernalia like we seem to do.  

However, this parenting style chasm does seem to be a source of much stress (to me anyway) sometimes.  Do I say something or not??  Is it right to "parent your parent" (especially in Chinese filial culture)?  More often than not, I'm forced to let it slide, as my words are ignored anyway and I'm left with hearing much mumbling and grumbling all uttered purposely within earshot.  

Angry crustacean

Toddler:   "Raa raa raaaa!"

M:            "Wah, are you a scary lion?"

Toddler:    shakes head

M:            "Hmm, are you an angry tiger?"

Toddler:    "No, I'm a lobster"