Perfect day

What is a perfect day? As my birthday approached, I asked myself and a few people this question: How would you create a perfect day for yourself? How would you pamper yourself?

I want my birthday to be a perfect day, especially seeing as my days on earth are numbered. I'm not dying any day now but I have reached a stage when years lived and years remaining have reached an equilibrium.

Turns out not many people have given much thought to having a perfect day. When probed, some said they would go shopping or spa or bookstore or stay at home with a good book or the box. Some don't even have plans for a good lunch, which was what I had planned to do. But who could blame them for having such boring answers? The caveat to this question was that you need to spend this perfect day by yourself. Well, at least in the day time.

My supposed perfect day got off on a bad start. I woke up with a pounding headache, perhaps from too much anticipation. I was at work in the morning and my colleagues gave me a 'surprise' by singing the birthday song and giving me gifts and shopping vouchers. That kind of compensated for the headache. When I got off work at 12pm, I drove to town to check out the Marmalade Pantry at ION that a couple of people recommended. The place was crowded on a Tuesday afternoon, so it must be good, I thought. I walked in even though I didn't like the menu and requested for a corner seat. The captain told me that the corner table was not available and put me wedged between 2 groups of rowdy women. I sat at the table for all of 10 seconds and stood up to leave, telling the waitress that I had changed my mind. I didn't think I would have much of a good dining experience.

I walked aimlessly in ION. Hungry. Then I decided, I would dine in the next restaurant that served cod fish. No such luck in ION. I moved on to Wheelock Place and stopped by this Japanese restaurant called Sun & Moon. I asked the waitress if they served cod fish as I was craving for some. She said the most beautiful 3-letter word at that time - yes. So, I stepped right in and was shown to a dark corner in the restaurant. The ambience of the restaurant was more Western than Japanese, with soft lighting and sofa chairs.

I was quite happy being left in a dark corner where I could still have an outside view. There were 2 other lone diners in the area - both were caucasian women. I remembered my female friends who told me they did not like to dine alone and would rather 'tabao' or have a quick lunch when alone. I quite enjoyed my own company. No small talks. No comprising on what I want to do. No need to worry about my quirky dining habits, like chewing ice.

My teriyaki cod fish set lunch came with fried potatoes, sashimi salad and a bowl of steaming white fluffy rice. Oh, how I love my starches. It was a very good meal. The rice was a gem. I have not eaten such good Japanese rice in a long time. Soft and starchy - that's how rice should be in a perfect world and on a perfect day. The perfect day was taking shape at this point.

After the good lunch, I went to Marks & Spencer and bought some chocolates and cookies, which were discounted as M & S was having a sale. Perfect shopping experience - checked.

Then I moved on to Far East Plaza to hunt for a pair of shoes and a white cardigan. Although I did not intentionally limit my shopping list to these 2 items, I ended up with only the shoes. The place was not like it used to be. I recalled there were a lot more shops. Must be the recession. But I was happy with my shoes - it was something I had been searching for for some time. I had to abandoned the Godiva milkshake in Takashimaya as I wanted to go home to nurse that headache before my date in the evening.

Dinner was at a modern French restaurant at Purvis Street called Gunther's. The food was superb and the service was great. But somehow, I felt like I was being watched constantly. The place was very small and the ratio of diners to wait staff was like 2 to 1. I liked the food and getting dressed up for dinner but I would prefer the ambience to be more casual. Our dinner that day:

- Free flow of freshly baked bread

- Lobster salad

- French onion soup

- Wagyu beef (for him)

- French lamb (for me)

- Selection of desserts

I was the only person taking pictures and was afraid that the wait staff would stop me from doing so. If they stopped me, I would say that I was a celebrity blogger, I decided.

The bread was very nice - warm and crusty. And they served real butter, not margarine.

My apple juice and sparkling water.

The lobster salad was out of this world - sweet, light and juicy, served with cherry tomotoes, some veg and a layer of crispy potatoes underneath.

The French onion soup was alright. They claimed it's made with Belgium beer. I guess either French restaurant or posh restaurant has no concept of sharing. We ordered 1 serving of soup to share but they gave us 2 and charged us accordingly. Miss smarty-pants at the corner of my left-side brain snorted, 'Fine-dining. Duh.'

My phone camera, or rather my skill did no justice to the wagyu beef. It was succulant and tender with the right amount of marbling and cooked to perfection - slightly burnt outside but still pink inside. No gravy whatsoever. This will be my last meal before I die.

Best lamb dish I have ever eaten, served with a thin layer of potatoes and gooey cheese underneath and with the right amount of fats too but I wished it was a little burnt and crusty on the outside to bring out the flavour. Still, this could not beat the heavenly wagyu beef.

This tiramisu was a surprise, with compliments from Gunther's. Even the surprise-maker, my hubby, was surprised by this gesture.

This was another surprise. We didn't order desserts as the surprise-maker had planned to bring me to another restaurant near his office to eat molten lava chocolate cake. The biggest surprise was that we had to pay for these even though we did not order them. Oh well, we enjoyed the dessserts tremendously, so we will not quarrel about it.

The left most one was a chewy cake with crusty exterior; the white truffle macaroon was chewy and good too; the biscuit was alright and valrhona chocolate was rich and bitter.

I simply couldn't eat another bite of the remaining desserts on the plate even though they were really yummy.

Check out the bathroom. They use L'occitane!

It's hand towels, not paper napkins.

So did I have my perfect day? Well, other than the headache, it was almost perfect. But it was all over too soon. It got me thinking: what is the point of it all? You spend indecent amount of money and effort creating a perfect day and then it's over before you can savour it. For that matter, why bother to go for holidays and then get back to the same rut after a while? My 'Aha!' response: so you can look forward to more of such wonderful experiences in the long journey called life. Another 'Aha!' answer: so that your book of life will not be blank; it will be as colouful as you want it to be and when you look back, you do so with a smile. I am still smiling.

My parenting philosophies

Parenthood is a long and arduous journey and we have to keep revamping ourselves and upgrading our skills to keep afloat. The goal post always seems to be shifting and the rules keep changing. That's why we should never leave parenting to chance, because chances are that you will regret it. Over the years, I have learnt many parenting tips, from books, internet and friends, some of which are brillaint but some I just can't relate to. Below are my personal parenting philosophies, some may seem radical but they have worked for me so far.

Begin with the end in mind
In my 20s, I was cynical, negative and perpetually on PMS mode. When I was pregnant with my first child, I resolved to change all that. I didn't want my child to become like Wednesday of Addams Family. I see my child as someone happy, confident and kind. I wanted him to grow up with strong positive Christian values and surrounded by love. Hence, I revolved my parenting styles and philosophies around that vision. My parenting style, as many of my friends know, is child-centric. It is not an easy one as it involves much sacrifices but it also humbled me and made me a better person.

Start young
Whatever skills or knowledge you want your child to acquire, you gotta start young. I started reading to my child when he was old enough to sit on my lap, i.e., about 5 months. Reading to my child became a nightly ritual which he enjoyed tremendously. Even now, my princes are still avid readers. According to their teachers, they are 'strong in communication and vocabulary' (aka talkative and aggressive). My princes also started swimming lessons when they were 4 or 5 years old. I deem reading and swimming as essential lifeskills. Even for discipline, I believe in starting young. If you allow your one-year old child to throw tantrum, he will continue to do it until adulthood. That explains why some of your friends and colleagues are so unreasonable and obnoxious.

Parent with love and service
We have heard of the 5 love languages - time, touch, affirmation, gifts, acts of service. I try to show my children all the love languages but frankly, to me, acts of service is the hardest to do. Yet it is a very important factor in family relationships. Acts of service, basically, tells the receiver that, at that point in time, his or her needs are more important than yours. What message can be more powerful than that? This doesn't mean that I'm a slave to my children. They still need to do their chores and obey their parents. I try to make them feel important by doing things for them when they least expect them, e.g., massages. I also have no qualms about apologising to my children when I make a mistake. Being parents doesn't mean we should behave 'big'. Sometimes, in order to earn respect from our children, we have to act 'small'.

Don't do for your child what he can do for himself
I'm glad that my children are relatively competent and independent. Sometimes, they surprised me with their capabilities. Recently, due to some miscommunication with my in-laws who are overseas, my younger prince took public transport home himself. He tried calling me but somehow I kept missing his calls. The poor kid took about an hour to reach home. Although I felt sympathy for him and hatred for myself, I'm proud that he found his way home without any help. I'm not suggesting that we leave our children to their own devices. We need to coach and nurture our children and provide them with the necessary resources and knowledge before we send them out into the world but we must also prepare them to face the world on their own, baby-step by baby-step.

Let them suffer a little
I personally believe that hardship builds character. We do not need to cater to every want or demand from our children. By K2, the princes know that they do not get any toys or gifts except on birthdays and Christmas. They also know that holidays overseas are not a given. My older prince begged for a handphone for a very long time, citing that all his friends had one. I only gave him an old handphone when he started to play in his school sports team and his gramps and myself needed to know his whereabouts - when he was Primary 5. And he knows that with privileges come responsibilities. He has to abide by the handphone etiquette, e.g., handphone must be switched off by 9pm. Now my younger prince is telling me that all his Primary 3 friends have handphones except him. Sigh...

When the princes told me the unfairness and injustice they experienced, I taught them skills to manage these and for cases where nothing could be done, I told them that the world has never been fair and never will be. This is part of growing up. But I also share with them positive stories and tell them that that they should always do the right thing even though people don't do the right thing by them. I believe that children should learn to fight their own battles while we observe in the background. Great generals are groomed by a nurturing mentor who provides the right training and armour.

A mother's heart

They say that once you become a mother, your heart no longer resides in your body. It goes and lives beside your child's heart, so you feel his excitment, his disappointment, his fears, his heartaches. A mother's heart knows no limit in giving and forgiving. It refuses to detach itself from the child's heart even when the child has made room in his heart for other occupants.

She patiently waits for the time when that space is available again; that place of love she knows only she can fill. While she waits, she gives and she gives and she prays. And she knows that the day will come when the child's heart will come and reside in hers. That's all the more sweeter.

Somebody stop me!!... Or maybe not.

Been eating mindlessly for the past 2 weeks. I just inhaled 2 pieces of cheesecake in like 5 seconds. And this is after having chocolates and cookies together with my lunch 2 hours ago. And dinner last night... I don't even want to go there. Christmas is still 3 weeks away and then there is Chinese New Year. If I continue to eat like this, who knows what will become of me by Valentine's Day. I may get invited to take part in the 'Biggest Loser'.

There are only 2 possibilities to my bingeing - either I'm happy or I'm not. I guess I'm not. My hubby has been doing his disappearing acts more frequency these few weeks and there is the prospect of having a new domestic maid before Christmas. Plus, work has not exactly been a breeze. But I gotta stop this senseless carnage. Get a grip on yourself, girl, and snap out of it!

If you've never failed, you've never lived.

Famous Failures

Don't be afraid of failures. Don't go through life with trepidation. And don't let anyone tell you that you are not good enough.

Arriving at destination...

Recently, my hubby decided to outsource his job of directing me to places to a Garmin GPS for a low low price of $169. I guess it's worth its salt if it means lesser arguments about unclear instructions and exploring more places in his absence.

We tried it out the first few days and the princes were tickled by the GPS going 'recalculating' or 'u-turn when possible' whenever we took a different route from what the GPS recommended. We joked that the GPS some times kept very quiet because she was having her tantrums or PMS and that maybe we should change it to a male voice which may be less talkative.

I have mixed feelings about the GPS. When my hubby is overseas, I feel more secure going to places with it but some times, the direction it gives is different from what seems to be the correct route and it can be frustrating because I can't scold this damn thing or ask it questions. In such situations, I have to re-activate it to re-direct. According to a friend, Singapore is very small, so it's impossible to get lost. I disagree. Anyway, what I love about this machine is that I can save some favourite locations and there is an icon that that says 'Go home'. I feel safe knowing that even if I got lost, I will somehow find my way home. I hope.

A piece of our past

It's strange how we form emotional attachment to inanimate objects. Our coffee table had been with us since we got married and moved into our first house. It was a simple square table made of low quality wood. Yet it weathered our daily abuse over the past 14 years and still stood strong on the day it was abandoned.

The day before the new coffee table was due to arrive, I told my hubby that maybe we should keep our old coffee table after all. Ok, stupid suggestion. Then, I suggested that maybe we saw off a leg of the table and keep it as a momento. Stupider. So, we just took a picture of the old fellow, in its usual form, with remote controls, toys, cups and anything our 2 princes put on it.

The day the new coffee table arrived, I received it without any emotion. Unlike the old coffee table, this one is more elegant and is made of good quality Indonesian wood but lacks character and a certain charm that the old table had.

I guess human beings are nostalgic suckers. We associate anything, from an old coffee table to Michael Jackson with our youth and time lost. We grieve for MJ not because we love him. Come on, we don't even know him. We mourn the lost youth and freedom that we had during the times we listened to his music and watched his rebellious crotch-grabbing dance moves. In the same way, the coffee table held many many memories of our early married and parenthood years. It witnessed our fights and hugs, held our TV dinners, heard our stories and grew with us as a couple and young family. It has stopped becoming a furniture but a part of our lives.

I tapped into the logical part of my brain and told it to let go of the old fellow. Maybe it will serve a purpose for its next owner. For now, I have to get used to the new coffee table - the smell, the shape, the texture and move on. Like the slogan in the movie 'Meet the Robinsons', 'Just Keep Moving Forward', we cannot be stuck in the past. And we shouldn't. So I guess the new coffee table has to earn its keep and hopefully last long enough to bond with us and become part of our children's memories too. When they have their own homes and coffee tables, I hope they will remember the happy times they had in our home and around our coffee table.