Every night between 10.30 and 10.50, I perform a task. It involves tiptoeing into my six
No, no, no Mr Joggin Dad, you’re doing it all wrong, wrong, wrong!
year-old son’s room, carefully carrying my sleeping first-born in an upright position to the bathroom, with his head resting on my shoulder. Once there, I pull down his pyjama pants and sit him on the toilet so that he can do his night-time relief – something he rarely fails to do even though he is usually still in dreamland. I then carry Prince #1 back to his room, tuck him into bed snuggly, and repeat the whole exercise with Prince #2, my precious four year-old second son.
“You know, you shouldn’t do that! You should allow your children to learn to visit the toilet at night by themselves“. Continue reading
Hero now, but for how long?
Despite the endless mischief they get up to, and the lack of any that my wife and I are able to get into because of them, I find my two boys just so much fun to be with right now.
They have been sleeping through most nights for the past couple of years – something we never thought would happen during their early days, when the elder one used to wake up 3-4 times every night due to eczema, while the younger one used to cry 3-4 hours every night before he fell asleep. Now aged 6 and 4, respectively, L and C not only sleep well but also cherish the pre-bedtime ritual of reading, talking and interrogating their ignorant father about all the mysteries of the world (“Who first found God?“, “Why do you run?“). And because they enjoy it so much, so do I, especially as it is often the only time of the day I get a chance to “talk” to them, as oppose to yell at them or plead with them – my two standard modes of communicating with these two cheeky rascals. Continue reading
“THOMAS! Stop splashing others in the face or we’re going straight home!” thundered a forty-something man at his son whose age was probably about a tenth of his father’s.
- We all feel like that sometimes!
Instead of taking heed of the threat, however, the kid immediately proceeded to intensify his splashing on all the other children around him in the swimming pool. Not only that, but he started snatching their floating paraphernalia (foam noodles, kicking boards) and chucking them all over the place.
“RIGHT, THOMAS, YOU COME OUT HERE RIGHT NOW, AND ALSO SAY SORRY TO ALL YOUR FRIENDS!” screamed his father from poolside.
I’m not sure whether any of the other children were his friends but none of them appeared thrilled that this Thomas boy blatantly ignored his father and refused to get out of the pool. Certainly, my younger son, C, was no friend of Thomas, having had his little goggles repeatedly fogged up by unwanted splashing in his direction. Continue reading
In the years of B.C. (Before Children), there was one thing I found more mind-numbing than watching paint dry. No, it was not work – a soul-destroying endeavour but never mind-numbing. Neither was it shopping with my wife for things to clutter the house – the choices always boggled the mind so much that it never had a chance to get numb.
- Guess who’s talking and what he’s talking about
No, the thing that never failed to bore me witless, that always lulled me into a comatose state, was listening to people talk about their little kids during social gatherings. It was as if the very act of becoming parents had somehow transformed these once-interesting friends and colleagues into a homogeneous species – one whose conversation skills were confined to talking about their precious offsprings. Continue reading
My elder son L had his 6th birthday party back in September while my younger son C enjoyed his 4th last month. Children’s birthday parties are always fun to be involved in and fun to watch. Unlike adult gatherings, there is no pretension in kids’ actions, nor tension in their conversations. It is just unadulterated pleasure of going absolutely crazy over simple little things like lolly treasure hunt or bashing the proverbial out of pinata – and all without any alcoholic assistance!
This will take longer than a marathon.
There is, however, one thing I dread about my boys’ birthday parties. It is the gifts they get. Teddy bears and Ice Age DVDs I don’t mind. But whenever my boys tear open the wraps to unveil a 500-piece Optimus Prime Transformer lego set or a 200-piece science laboratory extravaganza, my heart skips a beat while my chin drops a bit. The boxes from which these toys materialise from may say they are suitable for kids aged 4 to 8. However, they are only suitable after parents aged 30 to 40 have spent countless hours on the toys analysing and assembling. Continue reading