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Archive for the ‘encounters’ Category

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This place has gone quiet due to my usual procrastination.

I wanted to do a post on moving to my new place in December 2014 but I kept thinking that I needed to unpack completely before I can showcase my new home. Of course that didn’t happen. I still have 2 boxes of unpacked stuff locked in an unused bedroom. And then Chinese New Year happened.

Oh well.

I do post regularly on my Dayre though. So do hop over if you are interested in following my (mis)adventures.

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in stitches

pain scale

pain scale


One Thursday night, I came out from the shower just an hour after I have left my kids at my parents’ for the night to find a couple of missed calls from my parents on my phone.

When I called back, my mother told me that Lion and Peanut were alone in the bed room waiting for her to read a bedtime story when Lion fell and cut his forehead at the edge of the wardrobe. The cut looked deep and my father had staunched it and took Lion into A&E.

Panicked, I called The Other Half who was out on a run. He doubled home and we headed to the hospital to meet up with my father.

When I arrived at the A&E, there was Lion, still in his pajama-bottom, sitting next to my father with a ginormous bandage on his forehead. He was tired and subdued, staring at the TV screen showing Cartoon Network in the waiting area. I sat down next to him and he crawled onto my lap, looking miserable.

terrorising vending machines

terrorising vending machines

I asked Lion what happened and he told me that he was playing with Peanut when he hit his head on the cupboard. The doctor told us that as it was a blunt cut, he would need to be stitched by a plastic surgeon to minimize scarring. This can only be done in the morning so Lion would have to be admitted into hospital for the night. So my father went home and we filled up the forms for Lion to be warded.

stoned face being wheeled into ward

stoned face being wheeled into ward

Close to midnight, we finally got Lion into bed. The Other Half stayed with Lion and I went home to feed the cats and get some clothes packed for Lion and The Other Half. Needless to say, I hardly got any sleep that night and returned to the hospital at 6am, just in time to assist the nurses in sedating Lion for the surgery.

after surgery

after surgery

After the surgery, Lion had to be observed for 4 hours before I could take him home. Those were possibly the longest 4 hours of my life. The Other Half had to leave for work while my work was being attended to by my associates [Thank God for Champagne Truffle and Catholic Girl!]. He refused to lie down on the bed or take a nap [“I wanna go home!”]. He complained that the hospital smelt bad [of antiseptic]. He refused to have his temperature and blood pressure taken [“I already did this just now! No more!!”]. He insisted that he wanted to go home [“When can I go home? I wanna go home now!!!”]. He spent the duration seated on my lap or lying on the floor while I tried to stay awake and entertained him with silly songs, rocked him on my lap, used various distraction techniques including and not limited to trying to teach him how to play Plants s. Zombies on my phone until my battery ran out. Then luckily a couple of trainee paediatricians showed up with a box of toys to do some tests on him [“Do you have a Lego set?”] so I got a little bit of a reprieve. When they were done, he ate everything on his lunch plate and declared that he was done being in hospital. Luckily for both of us, the doctor agreed with him and we were allowed to leave.

He promptly fell dead asleep in the taxi on the way back to my parents’. I placed him on his mattress next to Peanut who had returned from school earlier and was taking her nap. That was when my mother told me that after the incident, Peanut had told her that she was minding her own business when Lion fell and cut his forehead. In the morning when she got up and realized that Lion was not at the breakfast table as he was in hospital, she turned pale and silent. She barely ate any breakfast and went off to school in a daze. When she returned home from school, she burst into tears and confessed to my mother that she was chasing Lion around when the incident happened.

scar face!

scar face!

We didn’t yell at them because the guilt on their little faces seemed like punishment enough. I was hoping that both of them would learn something from this incident but two days after, they are back bouncing around without any sense of danger again.

Oh well.

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I spent Saturday at the new place, having left the kids at my mother-in-law’s, meeting contractors then at various locations selecting tiles, toilets, ovens, sinks.

We had a quick late lunch at Terminal 3, then doubled back to pick up the kids for dinner at Oscar’s.

I turned a year older. I didn’t eat as much cake as I would have liked but I am now a home owner and I can’t wait to see what my bathroom will look like.

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I ask myself a lot whether I am a good mother.

I don’t really like to clean and don’t clean all that much.
I don’t stay at home all day with the children and pander to their every need.
Sometimes I don’t answer their questions and tell them to be quiet because I have a headache.
Sometimes I troll them for fun.
And I talk about my work more than I talk about my kids really.
Sometimes I also wished they would go to bed earlier so that I can so stuff I like to do.

Then I find these notes in my handbag at work:

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…and think maybe, just maybe, in spite of all of my shortcomings I might be actually doing something right.

Heh.

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It’s Teachers’ Day today and the daycare is closed. So I took the kids to work with me for half  day and arranged to meet my parents for lunch around the Marina Bay Financial District. The idea is that this is an area they would ordinarily not visit on their own and there are quite a few nice places I take my clients for lunch to around the area.

I had a quick discussion with Champagne Truffle about which of the restaurants would be more suitable for my kids and parents and he started telling me about how much he disliked taking his parents out for food or coffee because they’d ask him how much it costs and give him disapproving looks. Hahaha! Luckily I don’t have that problem with my parents.

It was a great morning. I managed to do two defences and complete an advice and see Catholic Girl about a buncha her stuff. The kids hung around and drew on all the rough paper (something that we are never in short supply of in a law firm), played with our toy cars (we give them to people to explain to us how car accidents happen!) and gawk at my printer/fax/photocopier.

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We didn’t manage to get a table at either of the restaurants I shortlisted though. In the end, the kiddies and I took a walk along the bay down to MBS and I took my parents to pizza at Mozza Osteria.

We then came home and took a really long nap.

It was a great day 😀

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I have spent two weeks after the departure of Commando and Catholic Girl went on Call Break doing 2 persons’ work.

Then I spent one week thereafter doing 3 persons’ work because Champagne Truffle went on holiday, a holiday he had booked because he thought that Commando would cover his work but then Commando left so tough luck.

So I haven’t done any of my own work for 3 weeks now. It is making my scalp itch and setting my teeth on edge. I am in perpetual high alert to duck in case anything explodes. I have spent many days laughing too much (because laughing is my coping mechanism) and many nights at home playing sad Chopin Nocturnes till midnight to wind down. It is not pretty.

Then on Monday, all the people on leave came back, much to my relief.

But The Buddha decided to have a protracted thermonuclear meltdown for an entire week, culminating in me spending two hours this morning just counselling people.

I thought that I could come into work today and look at my own files and answer my mail and feel better about life in general. But the morning is over, all I have done is to draft one overdue application and I have to scoot off to Court in the afternoon. This is just not happening for me.

I think I need a holiday from these people except that I have a new paralegal coming in on Monday and I have to reorganise the work to fit her into the team. So I am just going to down a shot of vodka (!!) and head out to Court to get on with the program.

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate being middle management?

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We took vacant possession of our new (old) home yesterday evening.

I walked in and out of the empty rooms, horrified at all of the decisions I am expected to make about all that space.

My father though was in top form. He scrutinized everything and fired all kinds of questions at me.

“Are you going to re-do the toilets?”
“Are you going to take apart all of the kitchen cabinets?”
“Do you want to relocate the hob?”
“How do you want the bed frame to look like?”
“You need new doors.”

I looked back dumbly and tried my best to answer his questions, then gave up and told him feebly, “I think I need to see it all in daylight before I can decide.”

All I want to do is sit in a corner with my head between my knees and my eyes closed. Hopefully when I look up again, the house would be magically all done.

Then I wonder: Isn’t it amazing how I can make all these snap decisions at work about other people’s problems but can’t deal with my own life?

I clearly need help.

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