I really enjoy working from home. It’s very liberating. There’s no one breathing down my neck to monitor my productivity. There’s no one to judge me when I have crazy hair. There’s no one to give me the stink eye when I’m late or write me passive aggressive emails explaining why “jeans is not an appropriate dress code for work”. And there’s no one to tell me I can’t take a nap when I damn well feel like taking one.

I get judged on one thing alone – which is the quality of work that I deliver. Nobody cares how I do it as long as it’s done.

But I’ve come to realize that this sort of arrangement only works with folks who are self-motivated and organized and responsible and non-procrastinating. All the qualities I don’t seem to possess.

Instead, here’s how my typical day goes down.

Every morning, I prep the kids for school, pack their bags, drop them off and send the husband to work.

Then I get back and turn on my laptop to make a list of all the things I’m supposed to do for the day.

Great, list completed – this level of productivity deserves a cup of coffee. So I take my time to pull a beautiful shot of nespresso and froth the milk to perfection.

Wait, a Facebook alert. Must. Resist.

Ok, since I’m enjoying my coffee anyway, I might as well browse Facebook for 15 minutes.

Time check, where did the last hour go? And how did I end up with 13 opened tabs on my browser? Just let me finish watching this baby panda youtube video and then I’ll get to work.

10.52 am. I should probably start with the easy emails frist.

• “68% off authentic Italian cuisine” – 68%? Blistering barnacles, buy now!
• “Boost Your Stiffness” – Reply “Dear Maribel, my stiffness does not need boosting, stop sending me spam. Also, I’m not David.”
• “ASOS Sale Now up to 70% off” – I’m going to be disciplined here but just in case, *bookmark for later browsing.

Clear a bunch of work emails. Look at how prolific I am today. Hi-5 self.

12.30 pm. Time to pick up the kids.

Bring the kids home, put them to bed, fix my lunch, read a couple of blogs and squeeze in a second cup of coffee before the kids wake up.

Finally get down to writing. Struggle to write a paragraph then realize I haven’t showered the whole day. Go take a shower to freshen up and clear my head.

Reread previously written paragraph – hate it. DELETE.

Maybe I should blog instead. Stare at blank screen while grabbing my face for 5 minutes. My brain seems to be broken. Screw this, I’m going to watch Alicia Florrick kick ass at her job for motivation.

“Mommy, can we go to the playground?” Why of course, sweetheart.

Come back, fix dinner, play with toys, feed the kids dinner, read stories and put them to bed before getting back to more empty screen staring. Decide to finish the work tomorrow instead.

But of course the same thing happens tomorrow and the tomorrow after, until my deadline approaches and I realize that I’m suddenly able to finish in 24 hours what I couldn’t in a week. Apparently, there’s nothing like a client breathing down my neck to maximize my productivity.

We’ve really enjoyed our Christmas break this year. The kids have been in a spectacular mood all week and we’re all a little high from all the celebrating we’ve done. I’m taking a break from all that relaxing I’ve been doing and wrapping up with some final thoughts on the past several days.

Where’s Jesus, baby?

In explaining Christmas to the kids, we’ve told them a condensed version of the Nativity story and they know that it’s Jesus’ birthday. They were a little confused as to why they were receiving presents on someone else’s birthday but they’re not really fussed about it. At this point, they don’t care much for why they’re getting a present, because “LOOK A PRESENT FOR ME? WOW THANKS!”

Kirsten wanted to sing Happy Birthday to Jesus and so we did. When we were done, I asked her where Jesus was and she looked at me for a moment before patting her little belly. “In my stomach”, she said.

“Sweetie, I think you mean *heart*, right?”

“No, Jesus is not in my heart. Jesus is in my stomach.”

“I’d love to know how that happened, pumpkin. Wait, on second thoughts, I really don’t. I think we’re going to have to spend a little more time on the human anatomy next year ok.”

Hunger almost always works

This time every year, the husband takes a week’s leave from Christmas till after the New Year. It’s like our special family time week. This year, the kids still have school so we figured we’d let them go the school in the morning and bring them out for fun activities in the afternoon. Truett saw the husband in his shabby state yesterday morning and asked “When Truett and mei mei go to school, where is daddy and mommy going?” We didn’t really have any plans except breakfast so we told him as much.

He immediately replied with “I’m so hungry, I need to eat breakfast, if not I will be sick.” It almost worked, if not for the fact that he just had breakfast and would be getting more breakfast in school.

It’s the thought that counts

I love everything about Christmas except the gift-buying bit, which is like the bane of my existence. I love the idea of giving gifts and seeing the person’s face light up when they unwrap the item you lovingly picked out after spending all day fighting off hordes of people along Orchard Road to get. But choosing gifts has never been one of my many talents and I hardly ever get that reaction. In fact, the only face-lighting I’ve seen is from the kids and that’s probably because they don’t care if I got them popsicle sticks. Their delight is in the fact that we bought them something special, wrapped it up and wrote their name on it.

Over the years, many of the gifts I thought were brilliant and thoughtful has turned out to be meh so I’m through with all this gift-choosing. Next year, I’m spending all that time I’m supposed to be out buying presents on something far more productive, like watching movies or reading a book while sipping my latte. Everyone is getting gift vouchers so they can pick out their own presents. Done. Best gift idea ever.

Hello, Kitties!

On the topic of presents, Kirsten has been amassing an impressive collection of Hello Kitty merch this Christmas. She’s got a Hello Kitty bag, 2 Hello Kitty plushies, a Hello Kitty dollhouse, a Hello Kitty hooded towel, a Hello Kitty comb, a Hello Kitty bikini and a truckload of Hello Kitty clothes.

I have never been in possession of this many Hello Kitty items in my life and it’s rather disconcerting in that I’m starting to develop a soft spot for it (her? them?). I would normally have gone into an anaphylactic shock in the presence of such saccharine sweet pinkness but I guess it’s true, being a parent does change you.

Remember the wooden train set we got for the kids from Florida? We’ve been wanting to get a train table for the kids but like most things, we never got around to doing it so it got archived for a while because it was such a pain to pack.

I finally managed to find a table from Ikea that fits and I’ll be working on it for the next couple of days. The plan is to line the table with a white sheet and draw some trees and grass and other stuff to make a backdrop, then glue down all the tracks to it. I’ll see how that turns out and improvise along the way.

For now, we’re having some fun with it first.

It’s the year 625 AD and a contingent of the King’s army find themselves transported to the future.

Meanwhile in the blue camp…

If this was a fairy tale, I’d tell you that they eventually find that they like it in the future, become friends and live happily every after.

But it’s not and in real life, this is what happens.

The end.

Last weekend flew by quick. I thought I was supposed to have 2 days for the weekend but it only felt like 1, and a short one at that. I did a Truett this morning when I woke up like “NOOOOO, IT’S NOT MONDAY!! It’s Sunday right, please let it be Sunday.”

I opened my eyes slowly, waiting to hear the kids jump on the bed and prod at my eyelids but there was just the gentle breathing of sleeping kids and it was the husband telling me to wake up. He never tells me to wake up on a Sunday so I knew it was well and truly Monday.

It’s a terrible way to start a Monday because I like to be prepared on Sunday nights. I mourn the passing of my weekend a little bit, then potter around the house preparing for the week ahead. But mostly, I brace myself for the Monday blues so that when I wake up the next morning and the feeling of dread hits me in the gut, I’ll be all “Hah! I’m ready.”

Sort of like when you knew the husband is waiting behind a pillar to jump out at you because you saw him hiding from a mile off. That’s much better than not expecting it and having him scare the living daylights out of you.

It’s all in the preparation. Or as Ross would say, the Unagi.

Anyway, this calls for happy pictures. And ice-cream. I’m going to get myself a large scoop of salted caramel ice-cream for breakfast.

Kirsten finally allowed me to tie her hair on Saturday. It’s ridiculously cute because it makes her cheeks look chubbier than they already are. Like a hamburger.

And happiness is discovering a new water playground on a hot afternoon.

PS. In other news, the results for the Strider giveaway are out!

PPS. In other other news, I was on 93.8 Live’s Raw and Ready with Sarah Cheng De-Winne to talk about Mother, Inc and other parenting stuff. If you missed it, the podcast is right below or you can download the mp3 (right click, save link as)  here.

Last week was a bit of a whirlwind. There was the SG Blog Awards on Saturday and the day before that, I was invited to attend a lunch with Dr Tony Tan. And I’m not referring to my general practitioner who happens to share the same name as The Dr Tony Tan.

Apparently, I was there because I wrote this piece on the General Elections that went viral and almost 5,000 people liked it on Facebook. They said that according to several sources, I was some sort of a trailblazer in the online world in Singapore. So not making that up.

From the invite, the purpose of the lunch was to discuss how digital channels are transforming discourse and opinions locally and internationally. I had to read it many times because I have no idea what many of those words meant and the only transforming I’m good at has to do with Optimus Prime and his gang of Autobots. But then I couldn’t pass up a chance to get up close with The Dr Tony Tan, so I turned to my good friends, Google and Wikipedia for help.

I figured there’d be lots of important people there and I could sneak in behind to blend in with the wallpaper but when I reached, I was brought to a room with a round table and 12 chairs. 12 chairs. Plus, there wasn’t even wallpaper for me to do the blending with. Or there was, but I couldn’t be sure because I had a mild panic attack and things got a little fuzzy by then. It was a good thing I arrived 15 minutes early so I had plenty of time to sneak off to the bathroom to throw up a little.

And then people started arriving. People who were like the biggest shots in the digital media scene, all of whom I stalk on a regular basis. People like Alvin Lim, Ravi Philemon, Pat Law, Mr Miyagi, Cherian George, Alex Au, Mr Brown and Kien M Lee.

They all looked like they came from very important meetings so I tried my best not to look like I came from a very important diaper change. Next to the table with 12 seats was an important chart with names and designated seats, which meant that I couldn’t skulk away and pick the least conspicuous seat. Not that there is such a thing as an inconspicuous seat at a round table anyway.

During the lunch, I wrote a mental journal in my head so I’m just going to post excerpts from said journal.

I’m supposed to choose between salmon carpaccio and goose liver. I’m not a fan of liver but I’ve always been taught not to order food I can’t pronounce. Is it kar-pa-chio or ker-pay-chio? What is carpaccio anyway? I’m going to be the dork that makes a wrong order. I’m just going to say salmon and hope for the best. Oh wait, Alex said kar-pa-chio. Guess I was 50% right.

Dr Tony Tan has arrived. I’m so close I can actually touch The Hair. Must. Resist. Temptation. Now’s not a good time to get myself incarcerated.

Oh, oh, oh, round table introduction time. Now’s the perfect time to start panicking.

Why are there so many forks and knives? I should casually stall for time and pretend to drink my water so I can observe what the others are using. I knew I should have paid more attention when I googled fine dining cutlery. All these tiny forks are so confusing.

Did Dr Tan just direct a question at me? I think that’s why all these people are looking at me. I generally don’t throw my hands up and shriek but I think this is one of those moments in life when one is allowed to. OK THINK, WOMAN, THINK.

Crisis averted. They are now looking at someone else.

I’m fairly certain I didn’t silence my phone. There is no discreet way to do this with my bag on the floor. Maybe if I step on it hard enough, it will disable the ring function.

Why is it that everyone else here is insanely smart? They are all taking turns to say things that I don’t understand. Now I’m torn between nodding thoughtfully or raising a questioning eyebrow. They may just see right through too much nodding. I’ll go with the eyebrow to mix things up a bit.

I really need to pee but nobody is moving. Hopefully this violent shaking of my legs will make it go away.

I actually came prepared with a question but it has to do with Dr Tony Tan’s hair and Mr Brown beat me to it.

I think I made it out from the lunch unscathed. As a reward, I totally managed to score a photo with Dr Tony Tan. Which I’m going to frame up and hang in my living room.

If you’ve been following me on Facebook and Twitter, you’ll know that I attempted to bake a batch of 50 cupcakes for the kids’ combined birthday party yesterday. It was a big deal because I’m not the baking sort. In fact, I’ve never baked anything in my life, unless you count baked beans, which I basically pour out from a can and put in the microwave.

My original plan was to buy 50 cupcakes from the store but I got to browsing these really pretty cupcakes online and the kids were all like “I want mommy to make.”

Ok kids, challenge accepted.

I mean, anyone can buy cupcakes from a store right but I’m going to be the mom that makes these babies with my own hands. Also partly because my mom is like a baking guru and she helped out a little (ok she did like 28% of the work). The kids contributed another 7%.

They wore their little aprons and helped to pour stuff into the mixer, all pleased to be making their own birthday cupcakes.

We spent all of Friday afternoon mixing, stirring, scooping and arranging little cups as the aroma of freshly baked cupcakes filled the kitchen. Now I know why people bake – there’s a profound sense of satisfaction to be making something so yummy from scratch. Like it’s just a bunch of flour and eggs on the table and then voila, cupcakes! We even made 2 different flavors, chocolate and carrot cake topped with ganache and cream cheese icing.

But then the proof of the pudding (or in this case, cupcake) is in the eating, so here’s the final product.

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Word on the street is that they taste pretty good too. Well, at least, the kids seemed to love it.

I guess this means I’ve earned my baking badges and I can go back to buying cupcakes from the store next year.

PS. The three winners have been announced for the Child Label giveaway. Thanks for your support!

I just had a pretty intense 24 hours. Started out yesterday when both kids refused to sleep at my mom’s place and decided it was way more fun to torment me instead. Then they got cranky due to a lack of sleep and started whining and fighting and not sleeping some more. Which got me cranky because there’s only so many times a person can yell LIE DOWN AND GO TO SLEEP NOW!

I thought they would be sufficiently tired when they got back and I would have a nice, relaxing evening. But Kirsten was apparently overstimulated and spent the night screaming till 4am, by which time, I was all OMG GO TO SLEEP WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME??

When I got up this morning after a 3-hour nap, I felt like a giant bag of crabs. Made into a crabby patty. I was way past my limit of yelling, cajoling, threatening, bribing and I just wanted to curl up in a corner and feel sorry for myself. I felt like I deserved the right to be crabby. Like if there was a Right To Be Crabby award for enduring hardship, I was sure I would have won the girl in this drama I once watched where she became blind, lost the love of her life and discovered she had cancer.

But I knew what I signed up for when I wanted to have kids. Days like these were inevitable and I should be thankful they are few and far between. I could sulk my day away and have another bad day or I could suck it up and be a mom. Which meant digging deep and finding that happy place so I could make my time with the kids worth it.

I wanted this, remember. I wanted this. Also, I clearly have issues with masochism.

We ended up playing pirates and soldiers all morning and they are finally down for what seems like a very long nap. And I didn’t even have to yell once today.

With a photo like this, you’d think I’m going to write a motivational piece on how life is like riding a bike and something about getting up when we fall, which is remotely related to how winners are those who never quit. Stuff like that.

But then you probably came to the wrong blog because there is no such lesson to be learnt here.

This is a story about a girl who wanted to ride a bike but her legs were too short and she was grunting away, with beads of sweat trickling down her face, trying to muster all the energy from her little calfs but that bike wouldn’t even budge an inch. I was about to launch into one of my life lessons about not giving up but then she started shrieking because MOMMA WHY IS MY BIKE NOT MOVING? SOMEBODY PUSH ME AROUND NOW!!

So as I pushed her around while she pretended to pedal, I realized that it was I who had something to learn. The sort of secret lessons you only get to learn when you’re a parent.

1. Screaming does get you what you want.

Most of the time anyway. Even parents who start out thinking that they are not going to give in to their kid’s screams usually cave after 2 days with a newborn who does nothing but scream. After that, kids learn very quickly that every time they scream, there’s an 8% chance they will get ignored, 13% chance they will get the naughty corner and for the rest of the 79%, they get exactly what they want.

2. Even if you can’t do something, at least look like you can.

It’s called wayang, another important lesson we all need to learn. We’ll never be able to know how to do everything, but the key is to first look like we can. Then go ask someone to teach you, or better still, shout orders at them and make them do it for you. Bam, problem solved.

If you have difficulty making people do what you want, refer to lesson 1.

3. Life is nothing like riding a bike.

Not even close. Some days life is more like pulling a rickshaw barefoot on hot coals while getting beaten with a stick. But you can always hope that one day you’ll be the dude cruising along in your Maserati with the top down and the wind in your hair. The bad news is that you may not end up getting your Maserati dream but the good news is that you’re not going to be pulling the rickshaw forever so at some point we all just got to learn to chill and enjoy the ride.

It’s really not as profound as it sounds.

Did you know that I queued up for almost 2 hours to get this shot with Minnie? There were all these kids clamoring to get a shot with Minnie Mouse and there I was, the only grown up (I didn’t even have kids to pretend like it was them who wanted the picture) and I stood there in the queue trying to look inconspicuous for almost 2 hours. But when I finally met Minnie, TOTALLY WORTH IT.

So anyway, we were supposed to take a second honeymoon to California for another dose of Disneyland magic before having settling down and having kids but my son got impatient and came a year and a half ahead of schedule, then Kirsten came right after so we traded in the honeymoon for more milk powder and baby booties and the thousand other stuff babies need. Kind of worth it, because that’s the kind of thing moms are supposed to say. But I was still dreaming of meeting Minnie again so I had to um, improvise.

Meet Minnie 2.0. Somewhat smaller than the real thing but she makes up for the lack in size with sheer awesomeness because you also get to snuggle and kiss and squeeze this one for as long as you want. I tried hogging more time with the other Minnie but her handler kept chasing me off after I got my picture, saying something about me holding up the queue. Not cool, real Minnie. Also, I can make this Minnie change costumes and do geeky dance moves.

I’ll be taking orders for anyone who wants to do a meet and greet.

For some reason, my kids really love playing pirates. Since the first pirate set my sister got for them from France, they’ve amassed all sorts of other pirate toys. Tru has this gruff, piratey voice whenever he’s in character and he goes “Truett pirate, aaarrgghh!”

This pirate book, which my mom got from Borders in Melbourne during her last trip, brings storytelling to a whole new level.

The storybook was ok (it got a little rambly at times), but the awesome part was that it came with lots of tiny little cut-out characters so you could reenact your own pirate story if you didn’t like the original one. I have a thing for paper cut-out characters, I’m nerdy that way.

Usually, I make do with telling them stories without any props but it was really fun to have all the pirate figures hold tiny swords and jump around while I made up crazy pirate tales for a change.

Well, maybe I had a lot more fun with it than the kids because halfway through, they got really bored from not being able to touch the fragile paper cut-outs and went on a rampage. One of my little pirate boys lost a leg in the process and I had to make them sit in their baby chairs while I told the story from 3-feet away.

Because it’s made of paper, the cut-outs are rather flimsy and they topple easily so usually by the time I set up all the characters in position, they either get blown away by the wind or trampled to death by my 2 Babyzillas. But hey, that gives a new twist to the story when I’m all out of plot ideas.