The Day My Kefir Grains Died….

The Day My Kefir Grains Died….

My milk kefir grains have… disappeared!!

It’s tragic…. I swirled around my filter.

I had just returned from the States after almost 3 weeks. I had left my precious grains in the care of my Mother, so that she could continue to produce kefir for my children while I was gone.

Me : Mom! Eh… what happened to the kefir grains??

Mom : Aren’t they inside the kefir?

Me : No… nothing’s there!

Mom : Oh… Dunno why, but they got fewer every time I make…

Me : (suspiciously) How often do you make them??

Mom : Arh… whenever the kids finish eating lar. Then I make more.

Me : So… how often is that?? Do you give them kefir every day?

Mom : No lar… sometimes I remember I will give. So every 4-5 days, I make some lor.

Me : Did you put the grains into the fridge when you don’t make them?

Mom : No. Need arh? I just left them on the table.

Me : ?

My Mom literally starved my kefir grains to death!!! The  grains are usually covered with milk and left in the refrigerator when I am hibernating them. And it is good to hibernate them every other day so that they are not “overworked”. In fact, they multiply faster whenever they get some rest.

So, remember, not to starve your grains to death. Pop them into the refrigerator, covered with milk to rest them.

I also keep a “backup” supply of hibernated grains in my refrigerator, just in case…. Very kiasu now…

milk kefir grains

Joy is…

Joy is…

Hearing the soft padding footsteps, then seeing a sleepy little boy drag a bolster taller than him appear before my bed at midnight. 

Rubbing his half closed eyes, in his baby voice, he said, “Mommy I want you…”

I had to follow him as he shuffled back to his room. Then he hugged my leg (instead of his bolster) and went back to his sleep. 

It’s all these little things that matter most in life. 

Spread the Blessings. 

Spread the Blessings. 

It’s been 2 days since I “blew up“. The mist has cleared, the dust has settled. 

I was so busy at work that I hardly had time to dwell on it, except for the 15 mins that I spent, furiously blogging about it. I finally have time to have a cup of tea, indulge in a little junk food (Macs fries!! ?? That’s where I am right now.), reread my blog post and well, self-reflect (actually stone is a better word because I’m still very tired) on it. 

I donate to charity organizations yearly because I subscribe to T Harv Eker’s idea of distribution of earnings (Secrets of the Millionaire’s Mind), which is to donate 10% of earnings to charity or the needy. 

Raffles place, where my office is, has a lot of “tissue aunties” and people bearing registration cards, which authorize them to ask for donations on the streets. Maybe it’s because Raffles Place is perceived to be a place where “rich” people are, after all every single bank in Singapore has an office here and bankers are the richest people around (no?? ?). 

“Tissue aunties” exist everywhere. They usually are old folks who buy the tissue packets from supermarkets, split them up and sell them at a much higher price. I occasionally buy from them, depending on my needs. But the general natural reaction of all folks, is to say “no” whenever they are approached. It’s just a natural protection reflex that the brain has built into the system to refuse or say no when it doesn’t have time to process the “logic”. 

I used to be in a default “no” mode too. Because there’s been many reports in the newspapers that a minority of these people are scammers. And nobody likes to be taken for a fool. And I have always believed that, in pandering to begging, it’s encouraging them not to work. And there are just so many of them around and they are so “in the face”. 

But some time back, in one of my stoning self reflecting sessions, I figured that for every wrong person I refuse, I run the risk of not helping a genuine one. So now, I just buy tissues (I can start a tissue store now) whenever I come across any “tissue auntie” or any donation raiser. 

Once, my friend asked, “What happens if that person is not a genuine case?” I thought for a while and told her, “What goes around, comes around.” Whatever good or bad will eventually make a full circle and come back to that person. If that person is dishonest, it’ll eventually come back to haunt him. That’s probably what karma is all about. And the amount that I use to buy tissues or bag tags or key chains (ya, now it’s no longer just tissues), may mean a huge lot to them. 

But I still draw the line when I see able-bodied people begging (face it, selling tissues IS a form of begging. Seriously, who needs 3 packets of tissues at one shot?). 

So, yes, my Dad WILL be rewarded for his generosity, even if it’s to an underserving person (I still maintain my opinion on that. And yes, there’s this thing about KARMA!! ???). Maybe that’s why I’ve been so lucky all my life!! His good deeds karma has rubbed off on me. I’m always in the right place, right time and the right people always appear when I need help! 

So, in a way, it’s a blessing to give (especially to the real needy. I reiterate on THIS!) because in order to be able to give, we must be in the position to do so. 

So share the blessings…! ???❤️❤️❤️

(UNLESS you blatantly know that that person doesn’t earn it!! With reference to a certain person.) 

I See RED!

I See RED!

As I am typing this, the red mist in my head (somewhat like the enrage thingy in Hearthstone, and a red mist swirls around in the card) has started receding. I haven’t gone into a rage like this for the longest time ever.  I like to think that I have mellowed down because I’m older and am a parent.  Parents, well, are calm, reasonable, infallible know-it-alls.  When I saw red in my youth, i went on a rampage (literally).  My reaction this time was mild.

I have a cousin, who visits my place twice a year, to “chit-chat” with my grandmother (also his grandmother) and my parents.  Ok heck! I’m like that too, I don’t go to my maternal grandparents’ place very often, the usual once-in-a-year-chinese-new-year kind. So I wasn’t too bothered by it.

According to my Aunt and Uncle, he is an extremely successful property agent, who owns a huge agency and drives a big ass Mercedes (or is it a BMW?? I’m not too good with cars. To me, a car is something that brings me from point A to B. The more petrol saving it is, the better!). Anyway, out of the blue, 2 months ago, my uncle suddenly approached my Dad for help.  Apparently, my dear cousin got himself into debt because he acted as a guarantor for someone (not even a close friend) for $500k. And now the banks are baying for his blood because his “friend” has disappeared. My conclusion is that the story is fictitious. He probably lost money in some volatile trade or deal. Come on, which ordinary person with any semblance of a brain (not to mention that he’s a street wise big shot property agency director) would act as a guarantor to ANYONE?!

He’s supposed to call my Dad for a loan personally.  But no, he didn’t.

My very kind Dad, who stinged on himself for 60 over years, taking the cheapest bus routes to save a few cents, parked his car 10 km away (ok this is an exaggeration, but you get the idea) from the destination because there’s free parking, doesn’t go on holidays, practically went to him and (short of begging) offered him the money!!

He, who still drives a Mercedes/BMW, owns an apartment, can’t downgrade his current luxurious lifestyle, wants to borrow money from my dear Dad who walks or buses to his destination, eats the cheapest food in the hawker centre and saves his money carefully.

The first thing I felt was heartache.  That, my Dad, who worked so hard over the years, saved so hard, took his hard earned money and offered it to him!! Practically shoving it into his face!  That was the first time I expressed displeasure.  I’m usually quite bo chap about how he spends his money.  Afterall, it’s his! He felt good, rescuing his nephew from the depths of the abyss. 

Ok, nevermind. That’s over.

My parents have an apartment whose tenant didn’t renew the lease.  So, my Dad decided to let my “poor” cousin market it. That’s fine too.  After all he’s a professional.  What irked me was, he didn’t even make any suggestion as to what the market rate was (like any good professional real estate agent should do, not to mention a big shot agency directory right??). He just did the bare minimum and listed the unit on PropertyGuru. The apartment stayed empty for 2 months. He brought 2 couples to view it. 2 miserable viewings. And didn’t give any suggestion as to how to better the standing of the apartment.

A few days ago, I got to know an agent who had tenants looking for the same kind of apartment.  The next day, the viewing was made and the deal was sealed.  Enough said.

Being, the nosy parker I am, I went into my dear cousin’s PropertyGuru.  He had 36 listings for sale and 12 listings for rent.  All big ass commercial and industrial properties.  My poor Dad’s unit was the one with the LOWEST rent. You draw your own conclusion. Seriously, I didn’t blame  him for it, because it’s logical to chase after the  biggest dollar.

Everything was rosy, until this morning, I found out that my Dad called my undeserving, skin-thick-as-dinosaur-hide cousin and offered him $1.7k commission, FOR DOING NOTHING, FOR LOSING HIM 2 MONTHS’ WORTH OF RENTAL, FOR PUTTING HIM IN THE LAST PLACE OF HIS PRIORITY LIST. And the ingrate actually said,  “ok, I will take your money.”

I SAW RED.

I called my dad. He slammed the phone down on me. I’M POSITIVELY HOPPING MAD! Red mist rolled in and clouded my senses. Ok, fine, don’t listen to me, right? FINE! I message lah!!!

I sent him messages after messages, still no swear words, although I was punching my phone, furiously swearing.  Thank goodness, my iphone had gorilla glass or else I might have made a hole in my screen.

Now, the red mist has cleared (kind of). There’s no sense souring our relationship over a pompous, self-centred, unprofessional, 不知廉耻 (direct translation : don’t know what the word shame means) THING  whom I don’t even see more than once a year.

It’s ok.  We need to have people like that in the world so that I seem relatively more benevolent, sweeter, smarter (whatever good words I can think of), because I’m definitely no saint myself.

I know my Dad reads my blog and he is going to read this.  I’m still going to say this. I’m not angry with you. I just feel upset that someone who’s totally undeserving, who has not done the work, gets rewarded for the wrong kind of behaviour.

Ok.  Rant over. Back to work!

 

 

The FART! Ewww…!

The FART! Ewww…!

POOOooooo….t!!

Me : Ewwww! What was that?!

小小宝贝 :A fart. (Without batting an eyelid)

Me : Who did that? (There were only 2 of us in the room. And it wasn’t me….)

小小宝贝 :(Nonchalantly lining up his toy cars in his OCD way) It’s Jie Jie. (Big Sister)

Me : How can that be?! Jie Jie is in school now.

小小宝贝 :(Still keeping his straight face) She farted very loudly in school so we can hear it here.

Me : =.=” (Poor, innocent, maligned Jie Jie) Little boys who tell lies don’t get to eat muffins.

小小宝贝 :(giggling cheekily) Mama it’s me, not Jie Jie! I farted!! See so loud! Can I have a muffin please?

Sigh… Things he does for food… Greed rules….

cheeky, food smeared face…
The Story of the Missing Raisin – 小小宝贝

The Story of the Missing Raisin – 小小宝贝

My not-so-new New Year resolution is to blog more… I do have a lot which I want to share, but I simply must pen them down before I forget them!!

Somehow, when 小小宝贝 first learnt about numbers, he had decided to adopt “8” as his favourite number and thus, til today, everything comes in eights…. not 7, not 9, but 8!!!

小小宝贝 : (pushing his raisins around his bowl with his finger) Mama, you didn’t give me 8 raisins! (in his loud, indignant, righteous voice!)

Me : Of course I did! I counted them as I put them into your bowl.

小小宝贝 : No you didn’t!!

Me : count them yourself! I gave you 8! And that’s it! No more raisins!!

小小宝贝 : ok! I’m counting!! 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7… 9!! See!! You didn’t give me 8 raisins!! No. 8 is missing!!! (glared at me as thought it’s my fault!!)

Me : No…! After 7 is 8!!! Not 9!

小小宝贝 : You didn’t give me 8 raisins!!

Me : …… (Trying to pull a fast one on me!!) It should be 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8! See! 8!

小小宝贝 : It’s 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and this is no. 9!! No. 8 is missing!

Me : Ok.. since this is raisin no. 9, so it’s not raisin no. 8. Correct??

小小宝贝 : (nodded his head fervently)

Me : ok. (popped raisin no. 9 into my mouth) No more raisin no. 9.

小小宝贝 : Noooo…..!!!! YOU ATE MY RAISIN!!! RETURN ME MY RAISIN!!!!!

Me : (I can’t believe this is over one tiny piece of dried up fruit.) See… now it’s 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8! 8 raisins!!

小小宝贝 : Nooooo…!!! You ate my 8th raisin!!!! (Wailed as though I had killed his mother… )

Me : Shall I return you raisin no. 8??

小小宝贝 : (nodded tearfully)

Me : there! Raisin no. 8. Are there 8 raisins in the bowl now???

小小宝贝 : (nodded but still giving me the evil eye…)

Mama 1- 小小宝贝 0

It’s all about Maths, baby! 

 

Greedy Toddler

 

My Miracle

My Miracle

If you have been following my blog all these years, you will know that I’m not exactly a kid lover. Unlike some of my friends who go child crazy whenever they see one, I don’t. In fact, I try to keep my distance from them. 

I was mightily happy with being able to take off whenever and wherever I wanted to.  I wasn’t a bad person, just very self-centered. (There! I’ve said it! I hear some sniggers! ? you are supposed to disagree!)
Until one fine day…. I had a bee in my bonnet and decided that, “ok, perhaps it’s time to have a child.” Waaa! A lot of people bought 4D that day…

And she came along… On this very day, 6 years ago. 17 September 2009.

when 宝贝 was a few months’ old

She was a textbook baby! Easy going, good temper, gobbled up everything, slept on the dot. Good fortune I have!! I must have done a lot of good deeds to deserve her!! 

It was the best decision in my life, to have her. Being a parent has made me a better person. I used to feel very strongly against some issues but they now seem minute and petty. I think twice now if I want to do something bad (looks around furtively). Even if no one knew that I did it, but I know it and with that, I would have lost the right to teach my child the right thing to do if I can’t even do what I preach. 

at 1 year old

I also found that I could give up a lot of things for her. And I never knew that I was the self sacrificial kind. But hey! Maybe I had it in me all along! ? 
 

at 2 years old
 

I used to love working so much that I spent 14 hours at work a day. Madness!!! Now I can’t wait to spend 14 hours with her!

at 3 years old

All my priorities have shifted. Money doesn’t seem as important anymore. Heck! I was even cutting back on work to spend time with her. I started reading parenting books, cooking books, any book that had to do with her. I even started cooking!! It’s a wonder that I haven’t poisoned all of us yet. (My Home Econs teacher must have been praying for me all these years after I almost poisoned her during food tasting in class. That’s another story altogether.)

at 4 years old

She’s the total opposite of me; she’s whatever I’m not. Sweet, sensitive, empathetic and utterly devoted to all of us.  I’ve been constantly reminded of that by my friends and colleagues. (you know who you are!) (although I’m sure I’ve those qualities, waiting to be discovered).  

IMG_9562
at 5 years old
She’s been the best little helper since her
brother arrived. The ever devoted sister and self designated teacher to her little brother. 

   

Today she’s 6 years old. And I love her to bits!!

Happy 6th birthday my darling 宝贝!I don’t know where I’ll be if you haven’t appeared. You are my miracle. 

  

Just Feeling Nostalgic While Watching Election Results

Just Feeling Nostalgic While Watching Election Results

LKY once said : 

“And even from my sickbed, even if you are going to lower me into the grave and I feel that something is going wrong, I will get up.”

It’s real!!! AH KONG is with us tonight!

We should engrave this on the steps of the Parliament House!! Like how they have engraved Martin Luther King’s quote on the step of Washington’s memorial. 
AH KONG you are always here with us!