Archives for category: Imperfect Everything

I don’t watch a lot of TV these days.

Little Einsteins, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, The Good Night Show.

And if I’m lucky, I get to catch online series like House MD, CSI and Bones (David Boreanaz is kinda hot. I’m so glad he broke out of all that Buffy nonsense). That’s right, my Malaysian friends. You get to watch shows the day after they air without downloading illegally – and no waiting.

So actually it’s not even TV. It’s Internet….vision.

Anyway, so yesterday, I watched an episode of Bones called "Boy in the Time Capsule" about a corpse found in a high school time capsule buried in 1987.

Dr Jack Hodgins (played by TJ Thyne), had the best line ever:

"Wow, this is so Miami Vice I should just roll up my sleeves."

I chuckled for a full minute.

What are YOUR favourite TV (or IV) lines?

I only have two resolutions this coming new year:

1/ Lose another 30lbs (I lost only 20lbs this year – small steps, insists Lokes. He is annoyingly right of course. Annoying because he lost 90lbs in 15 months.)

2/ Get through three quarters of college with top marks.

Okay I have a third.

3/Write a collection of short stories and publish them through Lulu.

Promise you guys will buy it when it’s out.

The Thais are famous for a lot of things.

Tom Yam, kickboxing and…commercials.

When you’re done, just click on any of the other Thai ads in the "Related Videos" window.

I guarantee they will make your week go faster.

Have a great weekend, everyone.

I am in Malaysia and the girls and I are in a shopping mall. Suddenly, sirens blare. They sound like those Cold War nuclear alarms and before I know it, American policemen file into the supermarket we’re in and tell us that war has broken out and bombs are being dropped by planes, and that as American permanent residents, we are being rounded up to be brought back to the US because it’s not safe for us here.

I am at the airport, still pushing my shopping cart with the girls inside, and our luggage. The girls are crying for their father. I look around frantically, hopelessly for Lokes as torrents of people rush through the gates and onto planes (despite there being fighter jets with bombs in the air) and we are shoved and jostled out of the way. Raeven is screaming and I am crying as well because we can’t leave without Lokes as I have all our passports. I imagine the worst, that he’s already dead, gunned down or worse, shattered to pieces by a bomb.

I open my eyes. Outside, the garbage truck with its beep-beep-beep is picking up our trash. It is 6am.

Beside me, Skyler is tossing and turning. A foot hits my face. Raeven is curled into a ball next to her, unaware.

Lokes is on his way home from Vegas.

All is well.

Living room, mid evening. Tipsy from sipping a 25.4oz bottle of Frutezia, Passion Blend. Alcohol content 6%.

Jeremy Irons is reading Vladimir Nabakov’s Lolita. Humbert Humbert is describing making love to the newly made Mrs Humbert, aka the mother of the real object of his desire, Lo. "Bathed through the undergrowth of dark, decaying forests…" Bet you’ve never heard a ‘mature’ woman described as such. If you’ve never read Lolita that is.

I wonder if Vladimir Nabokov was a pedophile. I’m sure I’m not the first.

Missing my husband. Need to pee.

Realisation: The name "Lolita" can never be used again because of its ‘literary’ significance.

If there is one thing that’s at the forefront of my memory growing up as the daughter of two government school teachers, it is that (1)we never ever had a lot of money. Sure, my dad (2) played sports for his country but according to my mother, we saw very little of the prize monies he’d won.These little nuggets of info sort of unveiled themselves like little potholes on the road of life, as the sun began to make its way across the passage of time itself. It finally dawned upon our tiny little minds at high noon that my mom was the reason why we even ate or had clothes at all. In fact, it was a facking miracle we’d never turned to welfare, that of skim buku pinjaman (school book loan scheme) and canteen food coupons because how the heck do you support a family of two on a RM600 ($150) monthly salary (even if it was the 70s), that’s what I’d like to know.As mentioned, these were facts hidden from us until my sis and I were safely out of the house. When we could no longer be at the mercy of our father shirking his responsibilities and then giving my mom hell for it, as though we were somebody else’s kids and not his. Well, I, at least, had felt that way in my house.But despite all that, (3)I had a somewhat okay childhood. It’s not like I had to quit school and get a job. Not right away anyway. (4) I had the chance to put myself through college although I’d failed. We always had good food on the table, my mom and Aunt made sure of that. I had my share of parties and holidays, gifts and relatives who took good care of us. So despite the feckless father and borderline poverty, my sis and I turned out fine. In fact, I think if my family had been well off, with my rebellious nature, I could’ve headed to a very different, perhaps much nastier, future.I truly believe that. That you sort of know when you’re about four or five, just what sort of person you’ll turn out to be, no matter what your parents do or don’t do. If my parents had tried – or perhaps just my mom – to really give me the best of everything, would things have turned out differently? Sure.But do I regret things like the neglect, poverty, which resulted in their inability to give me everything I’d wanted, things most of my friends had?The tearful fights they had in front of my sis and me?The unfair treatment because I was the ‘guinea pig’ first child?The lack of understanding and acceptance for his own daughter because he realised very early on that she was EXACTLY like him?I would like to say I do, but sensibly so, since regret never does do anyone any good, I don’t. Because that’s life. Choices, meet consequences. Now shake hands.At the Parent Bloggers Network this week, the Blog Blast topic is “How Far Would You Go For Your Kids?“. Well, I came from a family where it was split right down the middle for my parents. My mom went as far as she could, and my dad not at all.And yet, I turned out okay.Not fantastic. Not perfect. But I made it here, in one piece. Flawed, but happy that I made it at all.You see, kids that grow up into adults like me, well, we grow up a lot faster – and that’s not such a bad thing (not everyone turns out like Michael Jackson, y’all). We learn that when parents are unable – or unwilling – to go far for you, all you can do is to make the best with what you have.(5) If I had perfect parents who had the money to hire a chauffeur or the luxury of time, would I have learnt to ask my headmistress for permission to get out of class and sit beside my crying five-year-old kindergarten sister and wait with her for the school bus because she was always last to be picked up?(6) If I had a big allowance, would I have been called to the headmistress’ office and gotten a shelling, for selling crappy ‘art’ for 20 cents to my sister’s stupid seven-year-old friends because I’d really wanted to eat food from the canteen instead of the Planta and sugar sandwich in my Tupperware?(7) If I had a perfect dad, would I have ended up with a perfect husband?How far would I go for my kids?I have learnt that excess is bad, discipline is good. That laughter is crucial and love means saying yes AND no.I have also learnt that patience and positive words do help instead of constantly screaming at my kids and wanting so bad to give them a whack or two on the bottom for misbehaving that the resisting almost gives me a seizure.I will go as far as what I think will help them develop into USEFUL, RESPONSIBLE human beings. I will leave them no inheritance beyond my nonsensical sense of humour and perhaps – perhaps – my collection of Calvin and Hobbes comics.I will give them stories about how Mommy had to work two jobs to put myself through three years of law school. How I failed even then to get my degree. How I managed to still learn to write and make a living. How I found a man who loved me in spite of my flaws and insecurities. How learning to cope is just as important as learning to live (and how some of the most difficult choices in life comes down to choosing between these two).I will give them stories about how Daddy worked his ass off to get into a multinational company which gave us the opportunity to come to the US. How hard he works so we can have good food, nice clothes and the latest Barbies, and most importantly, so that Mommy can stay home to be with them. And how Mommy fell in love with Daddy because he’d play the 1-2-3 FREEZE!! game that Mommy invented even though it made him wonder if I did not perhaps need to be in an institution.Would I break the law to keep my kids alive? Yes.Would I lie to protect my child from harm? Yes.Would I wake up my children to return a toy that accidentally fell into the back of my stroller?Are you kidding me?Here’s an example of how far I’d go for my kids.Rae went for her first day of kindy and came home sniffling. As per Lokes’ instructions I gave her some Airborne, the powder tube kind you know, she likes that. FYI, Lokes is a stickler when it comes to warding off illnesses although the recent stomach bug episode has done a good job of teaching him that Airborne is NOT a miracle remedy.Anyway, of course, Sky started SCREAMING for some, but the packaging said kids five and over only or something. As Sky kicked and writhed on the floor from my decreasingly calm No’s, I stood in my kitchen, wondering if I closed my eyes and threw salt over my shoulders three times chanting “this too shall pass”, a cigarette would magically appear on my lips, lit.And then it came to me.I took a new tube of Airborne, poured out half the powder, and then topped it off – with salt.Sky took one swig, spat it all out with a resounding YUCK! and never hankered for the stuff again.(8) Would I go as far as to cheat and connive to protect my child from harm?Yes.ps. The numbers you see scattered throughout my post is because the lovely Adrienne from Babytoolkit tagged me. I fudged on the rules a bit because…well, I am fudgy like that. Here they are (them rules):Meme Rules:

1) Post these rules before you give your facts2) List 8 random facts about yourself3) At the end of your post, choose (tag) 8 people and list their names, linking to them4) Leave a comment on their blog, letting them know they’ve been tagged

I tag: Simmie and her sister Alynappies, Erna Banana, Purplewabbit, Mamabok, Punditmom, Su3 and Chwann (well because you recently came through your links and I’m curious :))

CIMG1422The one in the middle had been causing me quite some grief the last few months. A little more ignorance is truly bliss.

This is Lokes.

 

Today is Jenn’s birthday and she’s going to go have a painful wisdom tooth extraction. Please join me in wishing her Happy Birthday! I’m sure it’ll warm her heart and help her through the ordeal.

Thanks!

p.s.

Jenn’s password isn’t hard to figure out 😉