Over the weekend, I took off for a solo staycation.
That’s right. I left my boys at home and checked into a hotel all by myself. And it was the best thing that I have done for myself since I got married and got myself knocked up.
For the past five years since we have been married, I’ve only been away from husband once – when I went for a holiday with my cousins. And ever since my little man was born, I’ve never slept alone. There is always somebody in my bed. It’s just a matter of their sizes and how much space they take (you’d be surprised at how inversely proportionate this is).
With the constant night waking and the ever-present snoring from the Snorecerous Maximus, I have NOT had a good night’s sleep since I was in my 20s. Which was not too long ago. (HA HA HA.)
Plus, I have always scored a 50/50 for my Myers-Briggs test on the Extrovert/Introvert scale, which means that as much as I love being around people, I also recharge by being alone. Doing the stuff that I enjoy, like reading and watching movies and writing. By MYSELF. And that obviously has been in short supply for the past 20 months.
Enough is enough, I decided and searched for the perfect weekend hotel deal.
On Friday evening, I brought a little weekend bag with me to the hotel and began my solo time out.
Initially, I thought that I would be bored. Wouldn’t be able to sleep in a strange bed. Would get lonely. Would not know what to do with myself.
But I surprised myself. With just an iPad loaded with episodes of Grey’s Anatomy and three books, I kept myself holed up in the room and enjoyed every second of it. I was perfectly happy not to see anybody, I relished the sound of silence. Snuggling into the sheets with a book in my hand, I only ventured out when I had to feed myself. (I read! A book! Not something that was on Facebook or Twitter or New York Times. A book!)
It was perfect.
Oh, I missed my boys, I did. But I surprised myself by how little I missed them. I had expected it to be of epic proportions but it wasn’t.
And the uninterrupted sleep certainly helped. Heh. For the first time in what feels like forever, I slept and slept. And slept. There was nobody to wake me up. The sheets were crisp and comfortable, and I had a whole king bed to myself.
I think I might have to do it again. ;)
So. I usually shower with the kid during weekdays. Just so I can save some time. (If you are all judgy, go away. NAO.) I’d plonk him in his bath, he would entertain himself with his bath toys while I wash my hair. Win-win.
Recently, he’s taken to lounging in his bath. I kid you not. He would shuffle his tiny bum to the perfect spot where his legs can stretch out comfortably and his head can lean back onto the tub.
And then he would give me this HEY MA, I’M SO CHILLING HERE look. That expression is priceless, I tell you.
Clearly, this kid is MINE. I love tubs. I love soaking in super hot tubs when we go on holiday and the little man must have retained the image of me relaxing in the tub when we were in Penang.
Because he is doing the exact same thing as I always do.
Anyway, there he was, chilling in the tub while I was shampooing my hair. I turned to keep my eye on him and was laughing to myself at the way he was all stretched out when I saw IT.
The perfect golden arc of pee.
It rose magnificently into the air before curving down. BACK INTO THE DAMN TUB!
Meanwhile, the kid was observing this sight with an amazed, OH MY DID YOU SEE THAT? look on his face. He was bathing in pee water and he had NO CLUE. In fact, he looked positively gleeful.
I did what any mother would have done. Shouted AIDAN!, fished him and his gazillion bath toys out of the tub and then rinsed clean water over them. He was a bit upset – and rightly so – and kept knocking on the tub, saying DIS! DIS! but there was no way I was going to put him back in.
And then I wondered, holy crap, how many times has he peed in the tub without me noticing?
After I related the story to husband, he said, “Well, it’s a good thing I always rinse him after taking him out of the tub.”
He looked at me incredulously, and said, “You do that, don’t you?”
I justified my actions (or the lack of) with the reason that pee is sterile.
Until I googled and realised that pee, for crying out loud, is NOT BLOODY STERILE.
Somebody hand me that Mum of The Year award?
I just had to record this down for posterity’s sake.
One morning while we were at brunch, husband and I were chatting about the education system in Singapore.
Me:…blah blah blah…So Dr Tim Elmore says…blah blah…Oh and I love Dr Ken Robinson blah blah…
Him: You are just name dropping and showing off.
Me: I absolutely am. I’m good. I’m an educationer.
Me: Oh fuck. Did I just say that?
It’s been a rollercoaster ride, the last week has been.
The three of us jetted off to Penang for an impromptu weekend getaway and we came back on Monday feeling all loved up. The sad truth is, we hardly get a chance to spend so much time together, alone as a family, and it’s always hard when we come back home to reality.
On Wednesday, I took the little man to meet some girlfriends for coffee. On the way back, some lady decided she wanted to filter into my lane (cos she was on the bus lane at peak hour) and that she had to do it NAO. Never mind that I was minding my own business in the next lane, and almost neck-to-neck with her car.
Our cars made contact, I cursed and sounded the horn, and then continued driving.
In retrospect – because hindsight is always 20-20 – I should have stopped the car and yelled at that idiotic woman. No, really. I should have. But I drove away thinking that I was ridiculously unlucky and I just wanted to get home. At the next traffic light, the lady came up to my car and was all YOU HIT MY CAR.
I was so mad, I shook my finger at her and said, “YOU CUT INTO MY LANE.“
(I should have added BITCH at the end of the sentence there but my mama brought me up to be a polite person.)
She insisted that because my car was “behind” hers, I should have given way to her.
We exchanged numbers and that was that.
On Friday afternoon, my insurance company rang to say that the lady had filed third-party claims against me. And when I read her statement of the incident and looked at the sketch, I was fuming mad.
BECAUSE IT WAS ALL FALSE.
Patently false. Complete fabrication.
Call me naive, but I was utterly shocked. That someone would be so recklessly endanger our lives and then pin the blame on us just so that her damages would be paid for by the insurance company. HOW DOES SHE SLEEP AT NIGHT?!
But when the anger subsided, I saw that there was no point in me being angry. What’s done cannot be undone and the only thing that I can do is to file my own third-party claims against the other driver. And despite the dreadful incident, I was grateful.
That both A and I are unhurt.
That the damage to our car is minimal.
That Mr Thick has been a pillar of support, handling all the logistics.
That our trusted workshop is helping us to process the claim.
And, most importantly, that at the end of the day, I can go to bed with a clear conscience.
Yesterday, as we were driving to pick up the little man, the sun cast a beautiful glow down on us. And I said a quiet prayer of thanks to God.
For there is much to be thankful for.
Yeah. That sums up how I feel these days. Boring and uninspired.
The words are eluding me.
The mind is dulled.
My clothes are boring.
Speaking of which, it’s amazing how my wardrobe choices have changed since I became a mother. While I used to spend time creating an outfit for the weekends, my outfit du jour these days are shorts and flats.
It’s convenient, really. I can’t wear skirts when we take Aidan to his baby gym class because there’s a lot of running (the parents, in addition to the child) involved and we also do stuff like tumbling around. And dresses are out because I am still fulfilling my mudderly duties. I try not to wear jeans because we sometimes end up outdoors at a park or at the beach and it’s mad hot.
So shorts, it is. I guess it’s a good excuse for me to start building up my collection of shorts?
And is having a second pair of Saltwater sandals frivolous? (No, right? RIGHT?)
(No, my toes are usually not painted. I don’t like having to remove the polish, I end up scraping it off. Urghs. So klassy.)
Zalora recently contacted me to let me know that the company is now the exclusive online vendor of River Island Singapore. The official launch party is on September 13 but the preview is up online now.
I used to love River Island when it was in Singapore. It was a bit pricey for my wallet but hey, that’s what sales are for. In fact, one of my favourite jackets was scored at a sale from the brand:
So yay that they are coming back!
Disclaimer: I will be given a Zalora shopping voucher but all views expressed are purely mine. Honestly, I would never mention a brand that I don’t personally like. ;)
One day, husband said to me, “Let’s buy bicycles.”
I replied, “Okay.”
Not sure what possessed me to say yes, really, since the last time I rode a bike was when I was a wee kiddo and it was not a pleasant experience – I had flown across a drain and ploughed into a tree.
Yes, apparently I had not mastered the use of the brakes then.
During our hunt for bikes, I tried riding the bike that I would eventually buy. And the owner of the shop was extremely, shall we say, concerned about the way I was wobbling about the carpark. I still hadn’t figure out how to brake and turning was a bit of a problem. I had to stop, turn the handlebars and then slowly inch my way around by pushing off with my toes. Not entirely promising.
Our first ride was a bit rocky. We decided to hit to the roads one night and head to the bistro at the nearby reservoir. Along the way was a multitude of construction and we had to dismount a gazilion times.
Thank goodness for alcohol then. After a pint and some greasy sausages, I felt sufficiently brave enough to tackle the roads.
Since then, I have been pretty hooked on riding! I love the feeling of the wind in my hair, the buzz in my ears as we speed downhill, the burn in my quads as we climb up slope. Riding is very addictive and I had never expected myself to enjoy it as much as I do now.
We’ve chalked up quite a few rides as a family and the little man has his own seat and helmet. And on some nights, Mr Thick and I go on cycling dates and head out for ice-cream and waffles.
Hey, at least we work hard for our food.
Now, I can’t wait for A to be older so that he can ride along with us.
The husband mistook my frantic SOS waves to the baby monitor for a, oh I don’t know, friendly gesture.
The only friendly gesture that I want to show him is one involving a certain finger.
End of story, because I was lying in the dark for an hour with our clingy, koala of a child, shivering in my outfit of nursing tank and shorts. I would have totally gone to sleep with said child – whose arms were tightly wound around my neck and whose entire body was on top of mine - except for the fact that I hadn’t showered and was feeling pretty funky. Also, I needed to empty my bladder. Like now.
Okay, end of end of story. For real this time.
Over the weekend, we went chasing after the sunset.
It was a very impromptu affair. We were on our way home after celebrating a dear friend’s birthday and the birth of his daughter, when I saw that the sun was hanging gloriously low in the sky. Told Mr Thick to drive to an empty field near our house so that we could enjoy the sight of the setting sun when he one-upped me by taking us to the reservoir instead.
Armed with our packed dinners, two canned drinks and a picnic mat that’s always left in the car, we parked ourselves by the waterfront and enjoyed this spectacular view.
All throughout dinner, I kept repeating to husband, “Wow. Amazing. So beautiful.” And it WAS AMAZING! I don’t know how to explain the feeling or the sight. It felt like a miracle, being able to see the setting sun and catching the changing colours of the sky. When the clouds lit up and turned fiery red, it was almost as if my heart had stopped and I was gasping for breath. I felt like I was so close to the edge of the horizon and yet so far at the same time. The feeling is indescribable and the view was simply incredible. Absolutely incredible.
It reminded me of the Omni-Theatre and the movies that we used to watch there during our primary school days. I loved the Omni-Theatre! Anyone remember watching the volcano movie “Ring of Fire” there?
I have a feeling we will be having more picnics at that park. How lovely, lovely!
It’s funny how everytime I am down, Corrinne May is the one who has a song that aptly sums up how I feel.
It’s been 10 years since I started listening to her music and her voice has never failed to soothe me. Has the time really flown by so quickly?
Something happened over the weekend that made me come to a realization. It’s personal so I don’t want to share it here. But the sadness that overcame me took me by surprise, I never knew I had felt so strongly until it happened.
I went to work on Monday feeling as if someone had sucker-punched me in the gut. It didn’t help that this is a very intense week in school. Plus, Mr A seems to have hit a sleep regression of sorts and has been extremely needy and fussy at night. I feel as if I am barely holding it together.
And as I sat at my desk dwelling on the blueness that was threatening to engulf my day, this song played on the radio and something just clicked in my mind. What a perfect song for my mood.