Baby Winter Collection

Wearing his little Oshkosh fleece coat (from Sonya), his little hat (knitted by a friend of Grandma Pat's) and his Aussino bib (gift from Grandma Nikki). The eyelashes are a gift from me :)

I'b So Code...

Now in sunny Coolum where it's winter in Australia!

It's beautiful, the food is great and I'm freezing my butt off.

Sonny Son on the other hand seems to be having a great time although the cold seems to make him more sleepy and he's not drinking as much milk. Am slightly worried...

Gah! Stressed

The same old thing all over again - am getting on a plane in about 7 hours but haven't packed, haven't changed money, haven't even had a proper meal today and I'm just sitting here typing and typing and typing as I try to clear not just existing work but the flood of new things that have come in by sheer force of Murphy's Law and which need to be attended to urgently urgently urgently.

When just 2 weeks ago I sat here contemplating my existence and dire shortage of billable hours and wondered whether the world was passing me by. When in fact, the world and all the forces of Murphy's Law were simply waiting for me to book the uncancellable unreschedullable willforfeitallyourmoney air tickets. So if we need more business, we should just go (or try to go) on more holidays! Such a simple solution and even a child could figure it. I wonder why people bother to go to business school.

Which is why I must now comfort self with a nice picture of beloved offspring.

Feets!

Love the little berry toes!

Do you see the little spark of baby rage

in his eyes?

Kee Holiday

Baby's going for his first holiday! We've got an A4 list of things to bring for the baby that's so extensive that we might just exceed his luggage limit (10kg) and ours (60 kg combined).

There's even a list of "Maybe we should also bring" which is getting pretty extensive too. It includes the steriliser, enough boiled water to last him 2 weeks, his baby bath-tub with special seat and maybe his battery-operated baby swing. And a bottle of vodka for my nerves.

A New Template! Ugh.

The old template just was not working out - text kept disappearing, pictures were taking ages to show up and the excessive amount of pink was starting to make me twitch.

This template seems more stable, although I really don't care for the illustrations. Borrrrriinngg!

Just bought a new zoom lens for my Canon Digital Rebel in the vague hope that my son's photographs will look as cute as some of the others I've seen on Flickr, although I can't seem to get him to smile like Kyra (above). That grin is so cute and adorable and delicious!!

Want. To. Have. A. Baby. Girl.

Chilli

... have a terrible craving for chilli, belachan, anything that will burn my tongue off.

Also chocolate.

Think I need a shot of the mexican chilli chocolate drink from Max Brenner.

Presenting El Disgusto (A Magician)

... with many many tricks up his little sleeve.

Just before dawn this morning, he made milk disappear from his bottle, and reappear in my hair!

For an encore, he showed us the magnificent flying pukeball!

My son is magical.

He looks like an Ang Mo baby ....

and I look like the maid! Our skin colour is so different. But he does have a single strand of white hair growing out the top of his head, just like me. So he's undoubtedly my son, and now doomed to a lifetime of having to search and destroy that one strand of white hair every time it grows too long.

I wouldn't be me

if I didn't also include a photo of myself in this lot

Out of the baby blurness

I finally got a soft sweet expression for the camera ...

Ryan Sweetface

More pics of the Son! These are a little dated, but what can I do - we only got our internet access back last night. He's gotten a little bit fatter and a lot more naughty! Also, the eyebrow eczema is gone.

Oh dear

Just walked past the office next door (which is still under construction), and realised that the building managers have just ripped the contractors a new one.

There was a huge sign confirming that the contractors had been fined, and that their permit would not be renewed if they needed any extension of time.

I hope the contractors never find out which one of us wrote that one teeny little email.

My son he ereday want attention

Also erenight.

He actually managed to not sleep more than 1 hour at a time over a 24-hour period this last weekend. Everyone was exhausted - MIL, Hubsand and I.

Finally, MIL announced that he would be placed in cot after a good feed and forced to play by himself, which resulted in everyone for the next half hour trying to appear as though they were doing something else but in actual fact we were all listening to his crying and screaming. It was fist-bitingly stressful.

I'll give us another week before he figures out exactly how to cry in such a pathetic way that all 3 of us come running. And the dog too.

Hur?

Received these instructions regarding a contract today. Can kind of figure out what I'm supposed to do, but really it's almost like deciphering a code.

I guess this person speaks English like I speak Chinese. In which case I really pity the cab drivers who get directions from me.

__________________________________________

Thanks for your reply promptly. However, my request is to amend clause XX "Early Termination" to meaning that we can not early in the first XX month (as of the term in the first TA) but when we renew for another 1 yr (next year) we are able to early terminate by given notice 2 months to landlord - which I would ask you about the legal clause to be put instead.

Miracle

So I get back from lunch today, and it's like ... silent in the office.

No hammering, crashing, shouting, smashing sounds from the contractors in the next office. No horrible glue/ sweat/ paint/ thinner smell to assault my little nose. I wondered, perhaps they're done with the renovations? After all, the Bare Look is all the rage these days. Who needs a false ceiling, furniture or even lights?

Then my secretary informs me that the Contractor Man came over with a little card and asked us to call him anytime on his mobile if we were not happy. Plus the management of the building also called and gave us their staff's mobile numbers. Mystifying. Perhaps we are really becoming a nicer, kinder society. Or perhaps it is the National Day spirit?

Then my secretary tells me that no, it's because the building management have just received the little note that I had dashed off to them on Monday. Haiyah. Anyway, this is what the little note said:
________________________________________

Dear Sirs

We are the tenants of Units [XX-01/02]. The adjacent units (XX-03/04) were vacant for some time, but now a new tenant (XXXX) will be moving in shortly.

We have quietly tolerated months of noise and odour from firstly the reinstatement works performed to restore the premises to original condition and now, to renovate the premises for use by the new tenant. This is despite the fact that on at least 2 occasions, the noise and odour emanating from the adjacent premises has been close to intolerable. Our staff actually experienced headaches and nausea on these 2 occasions. Today, in particular (8 August 2005), notwithstanding that it is a working day for us (and for most Singaporeans), the renovation workers next door have not bothered to lower the noise level or even taken any precautions to ensure that the foul smelling paint and turpentine that is being used next door does not cause any business interruption for us.

We hold you, as Landlord, fully responsible and liable for this.

Despite the fact that you have clear rights in your lease agreement to regulate the manner in which renovations are carried out by tenants, you have either refused or failed to exercise any control whatsoever over the contractors, subcontractors or their respective employees who are carrying out these renovation works for XXXX. We note that you have regulations which specifically state when and how these renovations are to be carried out. We find it difficult to believe that these regulations have been complied with.

We have irrefutable evidence that the nature and extent of the nuisance was made known to you, as our staff had, on no less than 2 occasions today, and on numerous occasions in the past, contacted your management staff directly to complain. We were assured on both occasions that the situation has been addressed. However, at the time of this email, the situation has not been addressed as we can all hear workers shouting at each other through the walls, and our staff are also trying to leave the office as soon as possible as their eyes are watering and they have headaches.

From your failure to exercise the control that you have, the premises that we have leased from you cannot be properly used as an office, which is the very purpose for which it has been leased. Our rights against you in this regard are hereby expressly reserved.

By this email, TAKE NOTE THAT if the nuisance continues unabated when our staff return to the office on Wednesday 10 August 2005 at 8 a.m., we will have no choice but to take further action to rectify the situation without further reference to you, and we will look to you for reimbursement of our fees and expenses thereby incurred.

Kind regards
________________________________________

It's a little disheartening that I had to resort to writing this. Surely a phone call should have been enough? Clearly not.

Anyway, I don't know how the contractors managed to continue work without making any noise or smell whatsoever but apparantly that's possible. My guess is they're probably pushing the nails in with their thumbs.

Poo-Face

Precious Son at work...

Either I kill the Contractors, or they will kill me

I went back to work today only to experience more drilling, more smelly paint crap and more construction workers shouting at each other. When this did not stop after more bitter complaints to the management, I stormed into the half-renovated office next door and asked to speak to "the In-Charge".

Then found myself facing a man holding a nail-gun. Uh-oh.

"I am the in-charge. What you want?"

"I am from next door!! Very noisy!! Very smelly!!"

"...."

"VERY NOISY!! VERY SMELLY!!" I repeated

"..." (rrrrr... said the nail gun)

"CAN YOU DO THE SMELLY THING TONIGHT? ... the noisy thing never mind." (wisely decided to pick my fights)

".... (rrrr)..... Can."

"OK. THANKS AH"

Then I stomped off, only to miss the exit twice and freaked out thinking that they had locked me in whilst I was talking to the contractor and were going to nail my guts to the ceiling as a lesson to all.

My head is splitting

Someone is moving into the office next door and they are as we speak painting the walls with some brain-bursting eye-watering crap. That's making my brain burst and my eyes water, in case the point was missed. And this is STILL happening despite 2 strongly-worded phone calls to the building management people at our office building, one of which ended with "WHY DON'T YOU COME UP AND SMELL FOR YOURSELF?"

I am so fricking frustrated right now - back to work on a Monday before National Day when the rest of the world (in Singapore) is on leave, and on top of that, unable to concentrate because MY BRAIN IS WATERING!!! MY EYES ARE BURSTING !!! Arrghghghhg.

In other news, Precious Son actually slept through the night yesterday. The husband and I woke up shocked (but refreshed) at 7.30 a.m. sharp when we realised that we had not been woken up. Yes. We woke up because we had not been woken up. That made sense. Anyway, MY BRAIN IS... never mind.

BABEKerryBerryMoMerry

Was asked to do a Special Writeup about a friend named BABEKerry. Would it not have been better, said I, if you wrote this writeup yourself, and I'll put it on the blog? I'm not very good at writing, you know. No, says she, shyly, you write something lah. Anything can, so long as you preface my name with BABE.

Ok.

Filial Piety

So yesterday night after MUCH deliberation, I decided to give to my mother the rest of my buah keluak which was doggie-bagged from Soul Kitchen.

To reduce the possibility of accidents before the buah keluak actually gets eaten, I also instructed the maid exactly how to heat it up and serve it.

I just hope my mom doesn't just shrug and say "Oh, it was okay I guess. Didn't like the black colour" or else I'll spontaneously combust.

Soul Kitchen Omigod

K the Foodie introduced me to Soul Kitchen at Purvis Street yesterday where we met Damien D'Silva, the owner, who also cooked for us. It's been a while since I ate something so good that I'm still obsessing about it the very next day, but his tagliatelle bolognaise is the yummiest I have ever tasted - it is out of this world. No garnish, no fancy arrangement, just a plate and the pasta - everything was gone in just under 15 minutes. I couldn't eat it fast enough. If I could've licked the plate without K hanging her head in shame, I would have.

K had the Devil curry (some Eurasian curry) and he gave her a little plate of buah keluak mash. I tried the mash with my rice and almost fainted. It had little bits of pork inside and tasted like it had been lovingly cooked for hours. I don't know how much we paid for that little pot of mash, but it wasn't enough. The man cooks like a demon.

I took the curry home (too much! couldn't finish!), then brought it back to work, and I'm eating it right now. I can't believe this man used to be the chef from Citrine Chocolat - the food is so different. The stuff at Citrine I could do without - it was like banquet food where everything gets prepared a day beforehand, and they pour hot sauce over it before serving. Expensive cardboard with nice gravy, I thought. This - this curry - is nothing like that. It is hot and sweet and tastes like every curry I've ever eaten that's done right. The chicken breast in the curry is just soft enough to mash with the curry gravy. Even eaten cold, like I'm doing now, it's yummilicious. There is no thick layer of oil over the curry, and the gravy has solidified into a curry potato type of consistency, which I can pick up with a fork. If this man was my father, I'd be an obese person lumbering home every day for dinner. This man must receive a lot of marriage proposals. Hmmm..

Dessert was not so great though. I think he tried to do something different with the sago gula melaka, and it didn't have its traditional punch. I much prefer the StraitsKitchen version where they let you OD as you please on gula melaka and coconut milk and the sago is big, fat and soft. Not tiny and slightly grainy in the middle like what happened yesterday. Oh well. Should've tried the blue ginger creme brulee instead, eh?

I can't really think straight now as the urge to run back and have another tagliatelle bolognaise is all I can think of right now. Perhaps I can go back this weekend with the fambly ...

More Back in the Day

Now that I have The Baby and The Mortgage, my stressed-out mind constantly drifts back to the good ol' days when I was a swinging single just looking for a good time. Which really wasn't so long ago, come to think of it. I moved out of my mom's house at the ripe old age of 28.

And moved in with Valerie The Hot Radiologist. Boy was she stacked. Huge set of lungs on that woman. And she was pretty slim too. I think she was 26 at the time, also single, but with omnipresent Indian boyfriend. She partied a lot.

Some of her party tops were so tight that even I couldn't breathe. When I mentioned this to one of my horny male friends, he also wanted to not breathe, so I was compelled to invite him to my flat one evening so he could meet her. And that's the beginning of another story that I can't really talk about.

I think we would have gotten along a lot better if she hadn't been so damn neat. I'm not exactly a den of slack myself but that woman was almost obsessive compulsive. Even the dirty dishes in the sink had to be stacked just so. Given the amount of effort it takes to do that, I could've washed the dishes already. We lived together for about 7 months, during which I even got used to having my fridge magnets rearranged by her.

But I digress. The original purpose of this entry was to relive the time when we were trying to get the landlady to extend our lease at a cheaper rent. Still can't believe the antics we got up to. Tactics to make the apartment as unattractive as possible to prospective tenants who visited include shutting all the windows, switching off the aircon and chainsmoking throughout their visit, with Axl Rose screaming "November Rain" at top volume (on repeat).

Still, the flow of prospective tenants were unstoppable. I think it was because we were within a 1-km radius from Methodist Girls' Primary School or something. The woman who eventually took over the lease visited the apartment at the peak of its smokiness with her husband and 2 children, and STILL contrived to stay almost an hour, during which I almost passed out from all the nicotine in my bloodstream. Or, should I say, the blood in my nicotine-stream.

I read an article sometime later about tactics that other tenants use (apparantly this is a global phenomenon!):

- foul-smelling cooking
- dirty nappies
- satanic symbols
- lots of booze
- bongs
- (and for really good measure) scattered hypodermic needles

Sigh. If only I had come across that article earlier. We were paying S$1,100 per month for 2 people to share an apartment along Bukit Timah Road. For that, I would have gladly burned rubber on the stove while wearing a dirty diaper.

Of Rainy Days and Cold Office Air-Con

Today has been a rather slow day, after the excitement of the last few months. I haven't had such a slow day in a long long time, since December 2004, in fact, when I used to wonder if my boss was going to walk in the office and tell me that my services were no longer required since we obviously didn't have enough work to afford my (not so unaffordable) salary.

Had a lovely trip to the hairdressers today and highlighted my hair again for the first time since The Pregnancy. Feel like a whole new person! For one thing, I no longer have half a head of black hair and half a head of brown. Made me look like a freak, that did. Plus the hairdressers did everything in less than 2 hours, for the bargain price of S$115. Considering how long my hair is, that's a great deal. If not for the entirely impersonal approach that they adopted (I don't think they would have realised if I had died halfway through the job), I might actually use them regularly.

Met Celine Stink Eye on my way to the hairdressers and per our unspoken arrangement, pretended not to see her. This is the same mad bitch who I've known since secondary school and who, for some real or imagined reason, just refuses to say hi to me anymore. My other friend from secondary school, Sonya Little Bamboo, says she is just crazy and I should ignore her. Yes. Well that's easier said than done, although now on further consideration, I have actually grown taller than her since we left secondary school, and I also earn considerably more. Living well is the best revenge.

Plus I did not, after having a baby girl, go and give her a stupid hippy name like "SUMMER". Imagine that. A baby girl born in FEBRUARY and she names her SUMMER. What? Cannot spell "SPRING" ah? If her baby grows up in a non-Ah Lian environment, she will surely be made fun of.

"Why is your name Summer when you are not born in the summer?"

"Did your mother misspell Slummer? Or Slammer?"

Heh. So satisfying to be wicked on the internet.

Oy Gremlin!

So I finally get a return call from The Gremlin after some 2 months.

For those not in the know, Gremlin is a girlfriend from back in the day who decided one day to put away her lawyerly books and papers and move ass all the way to Vancouver, Canada to become a stay-at-home mom with her own internet business (Bratz and Belles - did I say it right?).

I am still amazed at how she packed up all her worldly possessions and flew halfway across the world with a baby, a toddler, a sleeping husband and all her stuff. I'm not sure I can even handle the navigation of a stroller down Orchard Road while carrying my son.

Anyway, I'm sorry we couldn't talk coz I was out to lunch but please call me back.

Done! With! The! Big! Sweaty! Paper!

Just devoted about 1 and a half weeks of my life writing A Big Paper, most of which was completed this afternoon in my office whilst the full force of the afternoon sun poured in through my big curtainless office windows.

My boss walked in at about 5 pm and almost did an immediate about face because of the sweat and heat emanating from my suited self.

At exactly 6.15 pm, I realised that I had written everything that I needed to write, and printed it out, just in time to catch the boss walking out the door. He now holds 10 pages of sweat and blood. I hope it's an enjoyable read, is all I can say.

I can feel a week's worth of accumulated stress dissolving as I type. What a relief.

Time to go and sign a bank's property loan offer letter that will probably force me to remain gainfully employed for the next 50 years ... then home to The Precious Son, who will hopefully not be sound asleep when I get back.

"Can I sail through the changing ocean tides/
Can I handle the seasons of my life?"
(Landslide, by Fleetwood Mac)