What Colour Bricks?

I know bricks can give you a headache if you hit your head with it, but I didn't know thinking about them can have the same effects too. Since we've decided to build our own home, I've been paying attention to the look of houses when I'm driving (I know, it's dangerous :p) What colour bricks did they have? What colour roof goes with what colour bricks? And more recently, I started noticing rendered and weatherboard facades as well.

It's never been like that before for my first 2 properties in S'pore. Buying HDB flats and condominiums, the building facade is the job of the developer and I only had to worry about the look of the interior. Now, we have to dig deep and think about details that most people walking past your house would not even notice. Like roof pitch, colour and type of roofing. There are 2 general types of roofing - Colourbond or cement tiles. Each has its range of colours to choose from and the cement tiles also comes with different patterns. The permutations on its own is endless.

Then there're the bricks. Different colour bricks can give different effects to the look of your house. And there are like about 60 types of bricks available for us to choose, with fancy names like "Canterbury", "Blackwood" or "Red Trevallyn" to confuse. Not just that, you can also add fancy details to the facade. Like rendering some surfaces to give a different texture and coloured finish. Attractive stones and tiles has also been used to make the facade stand out and be more attractive

We never used to notice before when we drove around the residential estates. But now, when I drive down our street, I'm checking out every house, all different cominations of bricks and roof, all with its unique look and character. I'm also checking out the types of windows, colour of window frames, colour of doors and garage doors. Should I render the facade? Or half-render? What colour window frames will go with the bricks? I have experienced colour coordination when I do patchwork and have to decide which fabric to use but this is way more stressful. In patchwork, the worst that can happen is you unstitch and start again or you just chuck it aside and never let it see the daylight. But for my house, what if I get it wrong and it turned out not as I'd imagined? A bad combination of ALL these can make your house a very ugly, sore thumb in the neighbourhood. Not just that, it will haunt you everyday you come back to the house. So I must get it right. And that is why I'm having a headache.

The worst part is, I have no way of visualising how my house will look like with this roof and that bricks. All I have is one black and white 2-D drawing of my future house and I can only use my imagination to colour on the bricks, window frames and doors. My husband, being a typical man, has never paid attention to small details. To him, every house looks pretty similar and pretty good. But me, being a typical woman, likes to think about those things that men never bothers. Maybe I should just take a step back and look at the big picture. Just pick a brick colour that is soothing to my eye and ta-dah, let it be. 

I Bought My Own Cake

KK's school organised a fete yesterday. Here's another new word I learnt in Australia: fete. According to the dictionary, a fete is "an outdoor event where there are competitions and things to eat or drink, usually organised to get money". I don't even know how to pronounce 'fete'. Is it pronounced as "fe-teh" or "fat"? I decided to follow KK, who pronounced it as "feit". 

All I know is, for the fete, the school were asking for parent volunteers to help out at the stalls and they were also selling "unlimited rides" bracelets for $20 each. I did neither, though I did consider helping out. However, with no one to look after XX, I can't. As for the rides, I figured the queues might be so long that the "unlimited" bracelets might not makes sense. And if I get KK one, I will have to get XX one as well. I will just buy them individual rides (@$5/ride) on that day.

What I did help was to bake a cake for the school. The school sent home a letter asking each family to bring a cake to the school on the day of the fete. They even attached a recipe of a cake for us to use. Apparently they were setting up some cake and tea stall on that day. I'm not comfortable with the idea actually. I was telling Hubby, how can the school be assured that the parents who baked the cakes baked it hygienically? Parents were asked to list the ingredients used but how do people know if they were fresh or if anything else was added and not declared? There could be serious sabotage potential and who should be responsible if anyone consumed the cakes and fall ill? Maybe I watched too many conspiracy movies or perhaps Australians are more trusting but I will not buy any of those cakes. Regardless, I will do my bit to bake the cake. 



My cheap and good cake, half eaten



On the day of the fete, I walked into the gym, curious to check out their cake & tea stall. I found on this long table all sorts of cakes that the parents had baked or bought. They were selling the cakes for a price of between $1 and $5. And then I saw my cake. It was priced at $2!

Honestly, I felt a bit insulted at first. The ingredients alone would have cost more than that! What about the effort? Then again, my cake did not look very impressive. It was perfectly round but a little short and the top of the cake was a little chipped off when I turned the cake out from the pan. The people there could only judge the cake by its presentation but I know the cake taste good and it's the only one I will trust to eat. I should have waited till the end to see if anyone bought my cake but I was quite hungry then. So I bought my own cake back! Then I kind of felt lucky that they priced it only $2 and I had gotten a really good deal....really weird.

KK couldn't understand why I had to bake a cake to give to the school and then pay money to buy it back. I told him that it was a form of donation to help them raise funds. Besides that, we also spent money on buying food and drinks at the fete but not for the rides. KK was a little gumpy that his friends had the unlimited bracelets and he didn't. Looking at the long queues, I refused to get it for him and offered him individual rides instead. He didn't want it. Luckily, he just sulked a little and did not throw a big tantrum like another son of my friend.  



A dejected KK playing with XX at the playground



Almost Four

XX is less than a month to being 4 years old! To me, that's officially the age my Baby X can no longer be called a toddler. Next year, he begins official schooling. Right, not playschool, not nursery but kindergarten. It will be a significant milestone.

Looking at XX nowadays, I just can't help but notice the changes in him. Not just physically taller, his face has changed too. Well, he's still very adorable but his face seemed to become more boyish. Or maybe it was his facial expressions, gestures, language and behaviour that have matured so much.



A most recent photo of XX



Of course, I'm happy. My job as carer is getting easier. He feeds himself, on most days. He sleeps now in a separate room, with his brother. He doesn't have to hold my thumb anymore to sleep but I need to spend at least 5 mins in bed with him before he sleeps. He doesn't wake up in the middle of the night anymore but reports to my bed at first light.

I can no longer keep up with his progress in my blog as he surprises me everyday with his abilities. In the area of toilet training, he's almost completely independent. He goes to the loo like a big kid and did away with the training toilet seat some time ago. I even taught him to climb onto the toilet himself using a step stool and I only had to help him with the cleaning of backside. One day, he went all the way and even cleaned his backside himself! I am amazed at his independence but I'm not sure about his ability to do a good job. To be safe, I wiped his backside again.

In the linguistics department, the four year age gap between KK and him has almost vanished. Now the two of them can have very engaging conversations, about their favourite topics like LEGO, Spongebob, Iron Man and Ben 10. XX even have very engaging conversations with me, telling me what he saw in the cartoons and how he wished he can have this toy on the advertisement. His volcabury is still limited but I can understand him perfectly. Recently XX's learnt to express his wishes and desires using "oh, I wish..." If you tell him no, he'll even ask you "why?" He's no longer the 'gong gong' baby you can safely bring to the toy department and hope not to spend a cent.

Right now, I'm scratching my head about how to celebrate his 4th birthday. I think this might be the last year I can get away from having a party....but there'll definitely be a celebration. XX's done well this year and his progress is worth celebrating.  

       

Mango Pudding

Mango season is here and the other day, one kind mom from school gave me 3. She got them real cheap as they were very ripe and had some blemishes. And they were so sweet! I ate one and asked Hubby if he preferred mango pudding or a mango cake. He voted to turn the last 2 mangoes into mango pudding.

I'm quite an experimentative person especially if I'm in a situation where I have to adapt. This time, a can of near expiry condensed milk in the pantry is the reason for my creation! 

Most mango pudding (the kind you find in chinese restaurants) recipes calls for evaporative milk. But as explained above, I want to use condensed milk. At the same time, I can also save on adding sugar. For added flavour, I decided to stir in a mango flavoured yogurt ice-cream as well. I didn't see any recipe that used yoghurt before so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it will not affect the jelly setting.

Phew, the experiment turned out well. Creamy, smooth and full of mango sweetness.

I'm posting the recipe here for my own reference but if anyone should try it, let me know if you like it too.

Ingredients:

• 2 ripe mangoes, take out flesh and dice
• 200ml condensed milk
• 1 tbsp unflavoured gelatine
• 225 ml hot water
• 1 stick of mango yogurt ice-cream

Method:

• Puree about half the amount of mango in a blender. (If you want it yellower, add in more mango)
• Dissolve the gelatin in the hot water, stir in the condensed milk.
• Add mango puree and stir well.
• Stir in the ice-cream until it melts completely.
• Add in the last bits of diced mango.
• Pour into moulds and chill until set.

Hmm....this is a really nice dessert on a hot summer day.

Ready, Steady, Hold

I think it is a mother's natural instinct to want to protect her children but often I ask myself where the line is to being 'over' protective.

Since I started this "5 minutes" routine with the kids where I'll lie in bed with them for a while before they sleep, I've had the privilege to have a short chat with KK before he sleeps. Snuggled cosily under the quilt and in the darkness, he's more relaxed and more keen to share voluntarily about the happenings of his school and his feelings. And he had been telling me that he doesn't like school because some of his classmates in school bully him. He said some of them call him "dumb" and sometimes they also make fun of his accent and pronunciation. There were also some pushing and taunting during play time.

My heart goes out to him when he told me he felt hurt by what they said. I can fully understand how such experiences can affect his school life and learning. I was a school kid once and I know that much more than academic work, being accepted and finding friends that you can hang out with is an important aspect of their school life. It seems that in his class this year, he has not been able to find that special friend yet. And my son is very sociable in nature. He doesn't know how to play by himself. In fact, he NEEDS to play with others. So even though the other kids treat him that way and we told him countless times to leave them alone and do something else, he'll still go after them and wants to play with them.

Honestly, I felt a little anger too initially. Especially since he had given me names of some boys and girl that have been especially abusive, I felt like going to those kids and telling them to bugger off. Also, I wondered if I should write to the school to ensure that these kids don't go to the same class as him next year. Luckily I'm not an impulsive or rash person. I know that parents should refer such matters to the teachers instead and not approach the kids directly. Even then, I struggled if I should talk to his teacher about his complaints. On the one hand, I wish to help him achieve a happier school life but on the other, I'm not sure if I'm overreacting yet. Calling names is definitely rude but I believe some of the things these kids do to each other are just childish behaviour or playfulness. Being boys, they can get pretty rough too when they play, so pushing and shoving is normal and might not be bullying behaviour. I probed KK to make sure that he was not the only 'target'.

At the end of the day, I did not talk to the teacher. I decided to let my son work it out himself before I step in. Much as I wish to be there for him all the time, it is not possible that I solve everything in life for him. In his adult and working life in the future, he's gonna meet more nasty people and he needs to learn how to deal with these situations. Instead, I counselled that he doesn't have to pay any attention to their name calling as they are not true (he's definitely not dumb). I told him that by ignoring them, they'll soon get tired and move on to someone else. As for his friends, if they don't want to play with you, go find someone else. He should choose friends that are kind and good natured. I'm also considering it a good idea to let him learn some form of self-defence martial arts. Firstly, it'll toughen his scrawny body up and secondly, he knows how to protect himself in case he's attacked.

At eight years old, KK is going through some important lessons in life on socialising and human relations. These are important interpersonal skills that will build up over time and bring him into adulthood. I hope he will slowly figure his own way of adapting and fitting in. In the meantime, as a mother, I will continue to watch and listen. Ever ready to step in and rescue my children should they ever call for help.