mott’s mutterings

In my previous post, I reflected on my own behaviour..and trust me, this is a issue I’ve been trying to address for a long time. Knowing how destructive my temper can be, I have tried various anger management tactics, everytime hoping I won’t act on it. However, easier said than done.

Here’s some that I’ve tried :

1. Picture placing all your anger into a red balloon and release it. Watch it float up into the sky, and you’ll feel your anger slowly dissolving. Yea, right. I felt like stuffing the red balloons into whoever created this.

2. Count backwards 10 to 1. That never helps. I am forever still angry. 

3. Move away from the situation and do something completely different. Problem is, when I doing whatever’s that different, I still think about it and it simmers.

For a long time, I have tried a variation of these, but sad to say, most of the time, it failed.

Two days ago..I realised how easily I laugh at the expense of other people.  Oh yea.. you know, pranks.

Now, within myself, I know I have multiple personalities:

A. The 2 year old boy. Nothing much to say, just wanna throw tantrums all day long. It is timed according to my hormonal body.

B. The 8 year old boy. I just want to sit down and play with my lego, all day long. I actually get excited when I see new lego sets. *sigh*

C. The 15 year old boy. I love playing pranks on people..and have done so many during my teenage days. Similiarly, when I get prank-ed, I laugh my head off too. It just gives me the giggles all the time.

D. The 20 year old Miss. Yup…the one that thinks she’s still super limber and has fab-abs.

E. And lastly, the closing to 40 years old.  Cynical, bitchy, and delusional still has fab-abs, with the additional "FL" to abs.

So, whenever I’m feeling the "E" mood, I have to quickly switch to the "C" mode…and think of the funniest prank I’ve seen. A prank so funny, I get the giggles and it doesn’t stop. But it sure as hell stops the "angry’ mood.

So, this is by far the funniest prank, I’ve ever seen in my life..and everytime I get angry..I remember the video and literally laugh till I pee in my undies. It is hilarious. But of course, it may not work so well for you, if you’re not into slapstick humor. But..it works for me everytime..and I forget how angry I am very quickly.

Now.. how do I share this with my 5 year old? 

I must say, for now, No.2 takes after me, when it comes to anger. When I get angry, I tend to stay angry for a long time. Like it just simmers and eats me up. Similarly, No.2 gets angry quite often…. because he doesn’t often get what he wants. No.3 at the moment, tends to dominate the toy situation at the moment. Many a time, when No.2 is playing with a toy, No.3 decides there and then, he must have that toy. Understandably, No.2 gets really upset because he more often than not, has to ’share’ it.

Well, 2 days ago, No.2 had his prep transition program. The education system arranges for kinder kids to experience the primary school environment, once/twice a month. So, in the past few occasions that he’s gone, he was quite a happy camper. He was confident, and very independent. He helped a kinder-mate overcome his loneliness. I have been really proud of him. NO, make that, I’m really proud of him.

However, 2 days ago, when we reached his school, I asked him to look out for his name tag. He headed straight for the table which he thought his nametag would be, but having a quick look, I knew it would be on another table. I gestured him over to the other table, but he ignored me, trying to locate his name tag.

By the time I found the name tag, when I turned around, I saw him crying a big hoo-ha. I guessed it was because he couldn’t find his name tag and he started to panic. When I told him I found it..and it was on the other table, I guess, he felt humiliated, as there were many other parents and kids around, watching this drama. He just couldn’t stop sobbing. 

I asked if he could go into the class, he sobbingly refused. After 10 minutes of cajoling and apologising for not calling him over to find his own nametag on the other table, the chinese mother in me, started rearing its ugly head. I wanted to bring him out from the school, and give him a real yellin’ and a few good tight smacks. The Chinese mother in me, felt humiliated, as the other parents were observing how I would calm this boy.

I walked with him to the class, and he just wouldn’t stop sobbing. I swear.. the chinese mother in me, really wanted to shout, "OI! STOP IT!". But the politically correct mother in me, couldn’t. 

I wanted to leave him, but he just yelled and sobbed even louder. 

Gosh..I really felt he was taking it too far. Just like me. 

Well, I was forced to stay in the class with him, with 10 other kids, and No.3. Only 10 minutes before the whole thing ended, did he let me leave. And by that time, No.3 got furious with me, for making him leave the class (with so many fun activities to do).

It was only towards the evening, did the chinese mother in me rear its ugly head again. 

Like him, I could not leave it as it is. 

I did smack him a few times, and yelled at him for creating such a scene. 

As I reflect on my behaviour, it is easy to see…why he acts the way he does. It comes from me. It isn’t pretty, at all. 

Sigh..

I get quite alot of spam. Who doesn’t? But most of it, ends up in the spam mail. The spam I’m talking about are the manual spammers. The ones who think that this mail needs to be shared out to all they care deeply about. I am having this strange deja-vu feeling that I’ve written about this before.

You know who they are. They could be your mother, father, mother in law, father in law, aunties, uncles, etc. Spam to them is the close equivalent to telling you that these are the important things they want to share with you. 

It includes in no particular order :

Geographical/Astrological : Tsunami predictions. The ever famous ones. There is this one particular tsunami prediction that is going around, someone is diligently changing the year. And of course, the 2 suns that will appear sometime in June. In the first place, there is only ONE sun. 

Food related : Some food is just bad for you. All food is just bad for you. Don’t eat anything, everyone will DIE! Or, if you eat this, you will never get cancer, Alzheimer’s, heart attacks, gout, kidney stones, constipation, diarrhea. Never, EVER! Wait, I don’t mind the constipation and diarrhea bit. Share that!

Scientific : Too many cute magnets on fridges create a biohazard! ARRRGH! They’ve tested on lab rats, and these labrats mutated to giant green frogs! ARGH! Wait a minute, aren’t there magnets on our fridge doors anyway? How else will these doors stay closed?

Technical : YOUR COMPUTER WILL DIE TODAY! A DEADLY VIRUS IS OUT THERE, DESTROYING EVERY BYTE IN YOUR COMPUTER AS YOU READ THIS! DOOM! DECAY! DISASTERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

WAR! : The terrorism threat has never been greater, thanks to Spam. We get forewarnings about which country will be attack next.

I try my best to tell my dear mom and FIL, that about 99% of what they’re sending are hoaxes. In the nicest way, ever. But my mom, often tells me, if Mr.So-and-So, who is a prominent judge in So-and-so land sent it to me, then it must be real.

Sigh.

Tell me, how do you tell your loved ones, please… no more spam. please. please. please.  

A quick google on the types of parents, listed around 7 qualities. Basically a mish-mash between level of control and warmth.

A quick scour around the blogs show a great deal of parents have undergone their Parent-Teacher meetings. Feedback from teachers about their precious ones, and how they’ve been behavin’. 

As you would suspect, I just survived 2 of them. Both teachers were super enthusiastic about my boys. How well they’ve done, academically and how adjusted they are, socially.

Well.. being a super simple (and mostly lazy) parent, I am a happy camper too. Despite the fact, I still have to yell at least 5 times (and I really mean YELL) before anyone hears me..  they’re coping well.

To make them street-smart, I inject alot of my..wisdom on them. Yes..I do lie to them, but they do catch on to me. Most of the time.

Well, I met a few other parents and started chatting with them on their experiences on the PT-meetings. Needless to say… though the teachers were as positive, the parents weren’t. AH? 

Please do note, I’m not judging them..I’m judging myself. I started comparing my errm..lackadiscal interest in their academics to theirs.

Whenever there is a school book sale, these parents are flying within seconds to getting their children, good worksheets (maths, english, whatever). Prepping them for next year. These parents tell me that their kids are bored in class. Oh dear..mine are just so happy, going to school. These parents aren’t sure if the teachers are pushing the kids enough. They will send them to extra classes, eating up all weekend family time. Piano, Violin, Swimming, Soccer, Maths, Mandarin, etc. They are already in the midst of planning which high school to go to. Note : Another 4 more years to go.

I really admire them for being and staying so focused and motivated. I too, sometimes get motivated…but then it sorta loses its steam..and I slow down to a halt. 

I am, just happy to let my kids.. err.. play? Is there something wrong with me?  Should I not encourage my children to go beyond their limits? Should I not support them, by giving them more structured activities to do?

To me, my soon to be 8 year old is doing well. He loves reading and maths. He may not be a genius..but, can he be?

My soon to be 5 year old, finally learnt all his alphabets. Today I taught him his first reading word, "TO". We wrote this word about 30 times. It is a super important word, to me. To him, too. Oh dear… how will I explain "too" and "two". I’m in big trouble. I have 199 common reading words to go, before he reaches his prep years (that’s 6yo kinder). 

My just turned 2 year old.. I’m glad to say.. he’s a happy camper. He already knows his alphabets. Thanks to a toy Thomas Laptop. Thank you thank you thank you!! This mu-um won’t have to do anything. I’m also depending heavily on my iPod touch and the many (lovely) educational apps to help me him.

So..what kind of parent am I? I know I’m a lazy one. But I also try my best to motivate them. I tell them not to cheat. Because they end up ultimately cheating themselves. I tell them, they have to practise a gazzillion times, to get it right. I tell them if they don’t feel good about their work, they have to do it all over again.  Because if they are proud of their work, they feel so damn good inside..and nothing can take that away from them. Even a careless remark/critic.

I’m lazy, I know. But at the same time, I so want them to be Harvard/Princeton/MIT/Oxford/Cambridge graduates. Oh my..I sure do.

But, what’s the point if they were scholarly brilliant? Ah yes..financial security. Can’t get that if you’re a road sweeper. 

Argh..my head is hurting me so much.. Why do I, as a parent have to worry about their future? Did my parents worry as much for my future? I know my dad did. He would worry if I failed in any of my subjects. But..look at me, I’m doing ok. I’m not in the business of killing people. I just am not as wealthy as I wished I was. But..we’re doing ok. But is that enough for my kids? To be just-ok?

Boys..if you ever read this, and if you’re doing something magnificent, or mundane… can you tell your alzheimic mu-um, that.. oh dear..I have completely forgotten the point of this post. 

Ah well..thank god for Alzheimer! I forget easily!

I am incredibly fierce. Sometimes, I even scare myself. I know I scare kids, other people’s as well as mine. And I’ve been scaring people and kids for a long time already.

Sigh. Why am I so fierce? My face is a dead giveaway if I am unhappy. Really unhappy.

Two days ago, I got pissed at one mom, during a pickup session, because she parked her car in two parking lots. Her car was smacked in the middle. I gestured to her, if she was going to reverse or go forward. It was so obvious that there was so much space.

She decided to reverse. Bad decision. At least if she moved forward, she could see where she was going. She was literally reversing in inches. One inch, braked. The next inch, stopped.

I swear… I was all ballistic in the car, growing red in my face, because I was paranoid about blocking oncoming cars! 

And she was really taking her time. Inching away. She was driving a spanking new Honda Integra. Lime green for some reason. So, I got fedup..and as I was getting out of the car to scream profanities let her know that there’s plenty of space. I saw it.

The green "P" plate. Over here, it’s the first plate you get right after you pass your written test. It’s a pre-probationary plate. There’s the green "P" and then there’s the red "P". The red "P" plate means you’ve driven through ‘X’ no. of kilometers with the green "P" plate. I immediately calmed down and knocked on her window.

Poor mother. Must have scared her to bits, because she was shaking as she tried to roll down the window. I gestured to her, that I’d help her reverse.

She was still inching away, even though I was like some indian parking lot fler, telling her "gostan, gostan, gostan" and then finally, the customary ‘thump-thump’ on the car, to tell her to stop. 

She didn’t quite believe if she was going to hit the other car, so she actually got out of the car to check.

As if I would ask her to park an inch away from the other car. Pffffffft!

Well, she apologised profusely and said, she couldn’t reverse the car to save her life!  see very well. I actually asked her if that was HER car.

And she actually nodded YES!

Oh..for the life of me, help me and other drivers out there! I just told her that she should get some reverse sensors (yes, it is not a mandatory option here, although I think it should be), so that she would be able to park without looking behind. HA HA HA HA..

A couple of other mothers strolled by, and I recognised them, and they started laughing at me, for being so "ngok" (fierce).

I honestly couldn’t help it. One car, two parking lots… are you kidding me? It’s school pick up time, such lots are precious! 

It’s a jungle out there!

I wonder..does anyone read this anymore? I’m guessing not really.

Most just bump in…and click out. If you haven’t gotten any comments from me, rest assured, I am still reading yours. Even, if it’s plagued with errrm…. u know, that kinda posts. I know, you still write, even though you have assignments to do. Even if you are talking about life insurance.

OMG..that wasn’t a sponsored posts! Don’t worry, this blog is not peppered with such posts. This blog has been kept fairly personal, for quite a while.

Yes, I’ve read about a certain baby (who has an equally cute bro) out there who is shaking his bum-bum, like a rapper, making a mom happy. I’ve read about a mom who’s down on the dumps, feeling worthless…but IMHO she shouldn’t because she’s got more self-worth than she knows. I’ve been reading (very sadly) about a very strong woman with 4 kids and a cancer spreading to her liver and chest walls ( I can never comment because everytime I write, I just break down and think to myself, no matter what I write.. it’ll never be good enough, so ..I just lurk in her blog.

Life is going on to all these people… and some going to end. It is therapeutic to journal it down. I, for one, have been truly lazy doing it. Sometimes, it’s just hard to put all these words into ‘paper’, even though it’s been running in my head. I can be blogging from my mind, problem is… it’s not online. 

Well… I just wanted to TELL YOU, that I AM READING YOUR BLOG. EVEN IF I DON’T COMMENT… I AM. 

As some of you know, I’ve put up my ‘hidden’ face in FB. No one has really seen me until now. Honestly, there is nothing to show. I’m terribly unphotogenic, unlike my kids. I simply hate taking photos, feeling awkward, not knowing if I’m smiling properly or if I have something in my teeth, face or hair. Actually, I can go on and on about it..but it’ll just bore you to death!

So, there I am. In FB. I attended a fren’s wedding…and had lots of fun!

Someone mentioned how stylo mylo I was. As you read from my previous post, the mountain of makeup I had to consider. However, this wedding was held in a place where there was NO air-conditioning, so, me being me, refused to wear ANY makeup other than lipstick. I honestly hate foundation and eyeliners smeared on my face, when it’s super hot.

But, yes..I did upgrade my ‘looks’. After three kids, I decided, enough of looking like some haggard drabby ‘ah-soh’ (actually, it’s more comfortable looking like some ah-soh, but I digress), let’s update and upgrade oneself.

Ok, couldn’t do much about upgrading the body so quickly. That takes time..and I’ll take my time. HAH!

But, decided to lob off all hair, get new funky glasses and a new wardrobe. If I could, I would shave my head completely bald, but certain quarters in this household, would vehemently disagree. I don’t see why not..it’s MY head, after all.

I’m quite happy with my updated look now. It’s easier to take care of. I look more ‘alive’ now. With the glasses, it’s not so easy to see those bags under the eyes, or how haggard I actually look,  because ppl are just so bedazzled with the funky glasses. Heh..distraction is always a good thing.

So if you’re feeling blah… update and upgrade. Not necessarily a huge wardrobe change, but get a haircut Do something to your face, be kind to it. You’ll feel much better! Now, have to tell myself that every 2-3 years.

Before I left, a good friend (not in exact verbatim, but u know what I mean) said, "You may enjoy the food, but you’ll miss your home".

‘Tis true somehow. 

I ate like a starving pig. Every single day was a gorgefest. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. I honestly had no break. I ate so much, that I never felt hungry the next day, and yet I still ate! And I had to attend my brother’s wedding..so there goes the tummy, but HELLO THERE! girdle. That thing saved my dress. The things women do, to look good.

And that’s the other thing. I haven’t worn makeup in ages! I see no point in it. What? Slap on foundation? Slap on eyeshadow? Slap on blusher? Slap on some… what.. fake lashes?

I strolled into a Mac shop at KLCC..and one of them ladies pounced onto me..like a cougar and would not let go. An array of makeup stuff expertly flew off the shelves and onto the lil makeup table she had there. It all magically appeared before me..and onto me. 

It was kinda scary I tell you, but she was quick. She had one of those handy-manny tool belts..only that it held all her makeup brushes. Before she delved deeper and deeper into the makeup cesspool, I bluntly told her, " Could you "TIT-TIT-TIT" all this? So I know how much I’m dealing with?"

She whipped out a calculator..Gosh..what on earth is she carrying a calculator for?

Grand Total : RM856.00

*almost fainted*

Told her, to exclude half the stuff. 

*tit tit tit*

Another grand total : RM530.00

*almost fainted*

Told her to halve it again. 

*tit tit tit*

This is the scary part, it still hovered around RM400++.

I’m thinking to myself… how much money do girls spend on makeup alone????

Ok..granted it’s Mac. But still!

I took only the lipstick and foundation..and she had a super shocked look. But that’s because I had already told her, I needed makeup for a wedding..and I haven’t worn it for ages. She must be wondering..how I was going to get by, looking so hideously. 

Ah well..that’s where "Daiso" came in. It is a super handy shop. RM5 for everything..and I’m good to go.

I have been a mom, for so long, I forgot how to be a girl. 

And..I haven’t even started talking about buying clothes!

Well, it’s Day 8 and I have definitely overdone it. Every single day has been a piggyfest. A gorging session. Overindulged in food. Today, I’m taking a break. For some strange reason, whether it’s the stomach or the brain, both say the same thing.

Enough.

Enough.

Enough.

It’s not like I’ve actually suffered any side-effects other than growing wider and a bigger tummy. But, the body somehow imposed a limit.

On another note, I’m most most pleased about one thing. My MIL had kept all my precious t-shirts. Yes.. my funny tshirts. The ones that Mr.T sold. Oh..how I missed them. If you don’t know me by now, I’m most definitely a t-shirt girl. I’m in fact very into very old tshirts. Tshirts that are so soft, after the numerous roundings in the washing machines. My ‘Holy Cow’ humor shirts are actually prized, because it is limited. There is just 30 of them lost in some wardrobes.

The people that owned them, don’t know how lucky they are to have these shirts. If you’re looking for some Color Overload, you’ll just have to find me. Now, together with some super cheap stuff I found here, my old precious t-shirts will be making their ‘debut’ in Melb. Woo hoooooo!!!

Here it is, the gripe.

As I am typing this, I am rolling my eyes. Yes.. I’m rolling my eyes so much, it kinda hurts…and I better stop rolling my eyes.. but I cannot stop rolling my eyes. Oh..there I roll again.

You know, as a wife, I stand behind my man, 100%. I have no issues with cleaning up after him (well, occasionally, there is a growl or two), no issues for cooking for him, no issues on being the single mom. Before being a wife, I also supported him 100% as a girlfriend. I was one of those ‘wofs’, y’know..the girlfriend who followed their man to every single match they played in. Even if it wasn’t a tournament one. Yes..I ‘rah-rah-rah-ed’ him in all his basketball matches. Even the practice session. I even watched in amusement whenever gay filipina men would try to pick him up. During these matches. Quite hilarious.

*rolls eyes* GAGAGAGGGG…gotta stop doing it!

I somehow, got suckered into doing his assignment. He whines about how he really sucked in assignments and how I wrote brilliantly. 

*rolls eyessssssssss*

He says, he will do all the research and I just need to type in all the words in. His idea of doing research? Hunting high and low for books in the library..and bringing it back to me. To digest.

*rolls eyesssssssssss*

Then he emails me, the ‘harvard’ way of citing references. 

Do you know… the day I left Uni, I wrote myself a small letter. It merely said,

"PLEASE DO NOT GO BACK TO SCHOOL EVER AGAIN! EVARRRRRRRR!!! STUDYING AND EXAMS SUCK BIG TIME"

Yup. I still nod my head everytime I think about this letter. Which I have it tucked away in my purse - somewhere. 

Are you nodding your head? I bet you are. 

Because writing assignment sucks. Because doing research sucks. 

Because it just eats into the time, you left for YOURSELF. The time you WANT TO WATCH SENSELESS and VERY ENTERTAINING TV, WHILST GORGING YOURSELF WITH YOUR FAVOURITE SNACK!

Now..tell me, what time do I have left? As a single mom and a pseudo student? How crap is that?

*rolls eyes* 

*rolls eyes*

*rolls eyes*

*rolls eyes*

*rolls eyes*